YoA strange truth is that to satirize something effectively you have to love it, at least a little. You have to look around you and understand not only where you fail, but also where you succeed and why some people love you and others hate you. Good satire does not arise from indifference: it arises from disappointment, anger and the desire to show how things fail, but how they can improve.
Jonathan Swift wrote about people who ate babies because he was angry. Jane Austen looked at the place of Georgian women and expressed all her misery through laughter. Skipping a few centuries, yes minister, yes prime minister and spitting figures have brought down politicians, civil servants and cultural figures because they thought life should not be a nightmare. The Thick of It, Veep and the sequels continue that great tradition.
By contrast, its creative team, while heavily inspired by those behind that last holy trinity, was made up of more jaded people driven by less noble motives. It follows the making of a second or third tier superhero movie by Maximum Studios (Marvel in all but name). And it covers, in its eight episodes, all the confusion that comes with making a genre film.
Also gravitating is a master director named Eric (Daniel Brühl), whose neurotic streak and penchant for last-minute script changes constantly hinder the work with the help of his devoted partner Steph (Jessica Hynes). The first embattled assistant director is Don (Himesh Patel, who does much to humanize the series, which is otherwise filled with figures rather than characters). He puts it all together, including trying to keep the story canonical by staying on the right side of new producer Anita (Aya Kash), who turns out to be his ex-girlfriend. There's executive Pat (Darren Goldstein), for example, who demands a rewrite if the studio decides he has “a girl problem” and improves the girl part. This is done by giving you a maximum energy bar. Pat agrees: “Nice words.”
Famous stage actor Peter (Richard E. Grant, former whaler) is in it for the money and the opportunities it gives him to mess with insecure leader Adam (Billy Magnussen). Plus, there are night shoots, complicated stunts with only one chance of success, production demands, studio politics, big star cameos to negotiate, and key crew members gradually falling apart.
After the pilot, I didn't laugh, but I couldn't see anywhere I wanted to laugh (aside from Don making a classic, perfect joke about the composter at the circus), and there are some good lines, though never great. and images scattered everywhere. A scene about a fecal transplant, “Will you solidify me?” A long way to the line. Deserving of recognition. Lolly Adebope (as Doc, the incredibly charming and disastrous third assistant director), who can put a ridiculously effective comedic spin on anything, is indispensable here.
But above all it is an exhausting litany of difficulties and failures. Aside from a circus joke and Dan's occasional plea for fidelity to the source material, there's no romance in the art or craft in which everyone is involved. With what contempt the producers of The Franchise treat this effort. Peter, Anita or Dog Two (“Have you ever thought: 'I'm killing cinema'? What if it's not a dream factory? What if it's a slaughterhouse?”).
It becomes increasingly repetitive and depressing, especially because there is very little development in the relationships between the characters. They are simply cogs in the powerful studio machine. Not much is made of Dan and Anita's story. Steph falls into a “forced romance” with one of the minor actors, but it goes nowhere emotionally. There is no downtime to relax or enjoy the moment of Don's success in putting out one (or 100) fires. Ironically, the overall experience is like watching a second- or third-rate superhero movie. The relentless sound and fury indicates that, ultimately, there is not enough.
