Review: HBO's 'The Idol' Misses the Mark In Its Debut Episode
HBO’s programming is synonymous with quality content. With programming like The Last of Us, House of the Dragon, Succession, The White Lotus, and Euphoria, the network averages at least 15 million viewers per episode. That means that every Sunday, people are making the conscientious decision to sit down and show up, expecting stories that will take us to brand new worlds the likes of which we’ve never seen before. The network’s newest offering, The Idol, strives to fit in with these types of programs, yet misses the mark in its debut episode. I’m giving it the benefit of the doubt because there is still a full season of television yet to unfold, but the show feels like it’s striving to master several different ideas instead of focusing on just one plotline and honing in on it with laser focus.
Coming from Euphoria creator Sam Levinson, The Idol tells the story of a burgeoning pop star named Jocelyn (played by Lily-Rose Depp) who gets seduced by a cult leader named Tedros (played by real-life pop star Abel “The Weeknd” Tesfaye). I know this is the premise because I read about it online; by the time the fifty-four-minute pilot episode wrapped, there is no indication that Tedros is a cult leader; he just comes off as yet another creepy LA guy trying (and succeeding) to seduce the hottest, most vulnerable girl at the club.
Speaking of vulnerability, The Idol cannot seem to decide if Jocelyn is vulnerable, powerful, or a sex object. I see people criticizing the show for its sexually explicit nature, and that doesn’t bother me. However, whether in film or television, I’m a proponent of the belief that it should serve a purpose for moving the story forward. The show opens with Jocelyn hosting a photo shoot in her house. A brand new album is on the way, and her people are flocked around her, watching her every move: her creative director Xander (Troye Sivan); a record label executive (Jane Adams); Destiny (Da’Vine Joy Randolph) and Chaim (Hank Azaria), Jocelyn’s co-managers, her publicist Benjamin (Dan Levy), and more crowd fill the space while given nothing to do other than act tough. An intimacy coordinator is locked in a bathroom because Jocelyn wants her tits out, yet the record label’s contract has to be drawn up and redone (“It takes 48 hours,” the coordinator says).
No one seems particularly concerned about her until a lewd photo of her leaks on the Internet. Suddenly, they’re all worried she’s going to have another nervous breakdown, which would mean a canceled tour, a delayed album release, which translates to their money stream diluting no longer having an incentive to hang around. The only person that seems to genuinely give a shit is Leia (Rachel Sennot), Jocelyn’s assistant and best friend. Vanity Fair writer Talia (Hari Nef) shows up.
Many different wheels are turning all at once; all of this should feel nerve-wracking, as if the weight of the world is on our shoulders and we’re hanging onto every single word that people are saying. Yet it feels like there’s nothing at stake. Something that’s built up to be a massive problem (the lewd photo) ends up being shrugged off by her character. At one moment, Jocelyn seems to be fully empowered, taking charge with confidence and overt sexual energy, the next moment she’s just…there.
It worries me that Levinson and Co. don’t know how to utilize an actress like Rose-Depp. As of right now, it seems like she’s just a piece of eye candy and nothing more. Even when the show attempts to probe into her character’s life, she’s given flat dialogue that does nothing more than make her seem like the archetype of every pop star that gossip magazines try to feed us.
In one way, The Idol does a fair job of making the point that the industry is filled with people clinging to you, only interested if you can make them money or help them land their next job. This point, however, is offset by weak dialogue that does nothing to build these characters out or give them any other reason to hang around other than money. With a show like Succession, it’s clear from the first episode that the motivation of every member of the Roy family is centered around one thing: money and power. Simultaneously, the show managed to give each character their own identity and separate them from one another.
The Idol is filled with an all-star cast, actors who I’ve loved watching over the last decade, yet I feel like you could switch any of them out with different actors and nothing would change. Everything, at least right now, feels one-dimensional. Even those that seem to care the most about Jocelyn (Leia and backup dancer Dyanne, played by Jennie Ruby Jane) barely have any room to expand outside of the clichéd, stereotypical best friend roles they’ve been given. The only supporting character that I completely bought into was Andrew Finklestein (Eli Roth), a bitter and self-righteous Live Nation executive who throws a fit when things don’t go his way. He comes off with a holier-than-thou attitude, behaving like he believes he’s the most important person in the room, not the artist. I think that’s as good of a portrayal as any of the modern-day concert promoter.
A night out after Jocelyn’s photo shoot leads to her encountering Tedros, who happens to own the club (of course he does) and manages to see her while he’s DJing, in the dark, across a crowded dance floor while she’s sequestered in a VIP area with her friends. Look, I don’t go out clubbing, but I’ve been to enough of them as a patron and a photographer. You can’t see shit, especially if you’re drinking. Does he have supervision? I get that Rose-Depp is stunning, but this didn’t seem believable to me. They sneak off to hook up, only for it to be interrupted. A day later, Jocelyn tells Leia that she wants to invite Tedros over. “He seems kind of rapey,” Leia cringes. “I know, I kinda like that about him.” What is the point of this line? It feels like shock value for the sake of shock value. Even The Sex Pistols, self-proclaimed anarchists who would do dumb shit to piss people off, had a point to their art. It does nothing to illustrate a dichotomy between Jocelyn’s personal and private life.
When a character like Tedros is introduced into the mix, you would think that it would be to give her something that she doesn’t have, something that her character has been longing for. Yet Jocelyn seems to have it all – money, fame, admirers, an endless supply of cigarettes and booze, and a satisfying sex life. There is an attempt to show that she is insecure about her music, but it always feels like an afterthought, even in the episode’s climax. There is never any kind of contrast to Jocelyn’s life outside of her persona: the show feels incredibly closed off. She is in her world at all times, whether she’s in a club, in the backyard of her mansion, or wherever else she may end up. Maybe that’s a creative choice, echoing the idea that pop stars are trapped and swallowed by their fame, yet there is no one place where she is shown as feeling free.
The episode concludes in Jocelyn’s studio, where after showing Tedros her brand new, radio-friendly pop single, Tesfaye’s character asphyxiates Rose-Depp’s, cutting a hole in the facial covering to somehow make her sing better. “I don’t think you know how to fuck,” Tedros tells her after listening to her lyrical delivery on the generic pop track she’s less than enthusiastic about rolling out to the public. So, somehow, this is supposed to help her be a more convincing singer. I feel like if I was to write a song about making a sandwich, I’d try to get inspiration by going into the kitchen and making a sandwich, not strangle someone with a plastic bag or a piece of cheddar cheese. In this case, I’m thinking their song inspiration would come if maybe they just, I don’t know…fucked?
It makes me worry that The Idol is going to make her suffer solely for the sake of watching her character suffer. At the very least, I would like to get an idea of what Jocelyn is striving for, yet the series very first episode cannot seem to answer it. A pilot episode should not give away everything, but it should tell you enough that if you were to turn it off after the first episode, you would still have a basic idea of where the show is headed. There are five episodes left in this season, so perhaps these answers will unfold. As of right now, I’m skeptical. The Idol feels like a one-note performance that’s squandering the potential of its cast with lackluster dialog, scattered plotlines, and sexual content created to exploit its lead star.
Earlier in the episode, Jocelyn and Leia are seen watching Basic Instinct, the 1992 erotic thriller directed by Paul Verhoeven and starring Michael Douglas and Sharon Stone. This was intentional, as it is no doubt an homage to what The Idol is going for: a provocative show that features a compelling story interwoven with sexually explicit content. Thus far, the story is not nearly entrancing enough, nor does the sexual content seem to serve any kind of a purpose that moves the story along or builds out the characters. Basic Instinct initially received mixed reviews only to be looked upon more highly in recent years as a groundbreaking depiction of sexuality in a mainstream Hollywood film. I’m not sure that The Idol will receive the same treatment in the coming years.
The next episode of The Idol premieres Sunday, June 11th on HBO and its streaming platform, Max.
Main Photo Credit: HBO
