TL;DR: Emily in Paris Season 5 looks better, feels fresher, and finally commits to its Italian fantasy, delivering its strongest Emily-Sylvie dynamic yet. Unfortunately, it still trips over underwritten side characters and refuses to fully let go of its weakest romance. If you’re already hooked, you’ll have a great time. If not, this won’t be the season that changes your mind.
Emily in Paris Season 5
I’ve officially reached the point with Emily in Paris where I can no longer tell whether I’m watching it ironically, earnestly, or because Darren Star has somehow hacked directly into the pleasure center of my lizard brain. Five seasons in, Netflix’s pastel-drenched rom-com juggernaut feels less like a TV show and more like a recurring lifestyle choice I keep making against my better judgment. And yet, here I am again, glass of wine in hand, surrendering myself to Season 5 with the same resigned enthusiasm I bring to airport croissants or impulse-buying a jacket I absolutely do not need.
Emily in Paris Season 5 is many things. It’s louder, prettier, more self-aware, and marginally more confident than it used to be. It’s also still stubbornly addicted to the same narrative shortcuts, character misfires, and romantic indecision that have plagued the series since Emily Cooper first landed in Paris with her phone fully charged and her cultural awareness set to airplane mode. The frustrating part is that this season comes so close to being the clean slate the show has always needed. Instead, it settles for being the most polished version of its bad habits.
I say this as someone who has, against all odds, developed a strange fondness for Emily in Paris. That’s not an endorsement of its quality so much as an acknowledgment of its effectiveness. Like junk food engineered in a lab, this show knows exactly how to keep you coming back, even when you’re acutely aware it’s not good for you.
Season 5 picks up immediately after the chaos of last year, relocating Emily from Paris to Rome, a move that feels both inspired and overdue. Lily Collins returns once again as Emily Cooper, now running the Italian branch of Agence Grateau with the same relentless optimism and corporate hustle that have become her defining traits. Rome, as a setting, injects the series with fresh energy. The show has always been more travel fantasy than workplace comedy, and Italy leans fully into that identity. Sun-drenched piazzas, food montages that border on parody, and fashion that screams “European holiday Pinterest board” dominate the screen. It’s indulgent, excessive, and exactly what Emily in Paris does best.
Emily’s primary romantic focus this season is Marcello Murator, played with effortless charm by Eugenio Franceschini. For the first time in a while, Emily has chemistry with her designated love interest. Real chemistry, not the awkward narrative insistence that plagued earlier romances. Marcello feels like someone who exists beyond the confines of Emily’s orbit, which immediately makes their relationship more interesting. There’s a shared ambition between them, a mutual insecurity about living up to family expectations, and just enough emotional grounding to make their scenes feel human rather than algorithmically generated.
Of course, this is still Emily in Paris, so the relationship never digs deeper than surface-level longing and stylish arguments over dinner. But Collins and Franceschini sell it. They make you want to root for them, which is something the show hasn’t consistently achieved since its earliest episodes. If the series had the courage to fully commit to this pairing and move on, Season 5 could have marked a genuine turning point.
The real star of Emily in Paris, though, continues to be Sylvie. Philippine Leroy-Beaulieu remains the show’s secret weapon, delivering every line with the confidence of someone who knows she’s operating on a completely different level than everyone else. Season 5 wisely elevates Sylvie to near co-lead status, not by diminishing Emily, but by deepening their dynamic. Their relationship has evolved from antagonism to mentorship to something far more satisfying: mutual respect.
Watching Emily and Sylvie work together in Rome is easily the season’s strongest throughline. Their scenes crackle with chemistry, humor, and a genuine sense of growth. The show has always struggled with its romantic arcs, but it quietly excels when it focuses on female relationships. Emily and Sylvie feel like two women who have learned from each other, clashed, adapted, and come out stronger. It’s the closest Emily in Paris ever gets to emotional authenticity, and Collins and Leroy-Beaulieu play it beautifully.
Italy itself becomes a character in Season 5, sometimes to a fault. The series indulges in every Roman holiday cliché imaginable. Slow-motion pasta twirls, lingering shots of landmarks, countryside escapes, and a Venice detour that feels ripped straight from a luxury travel ad all make appearances. It’s excessive, but that’s kind of the point. Emily in Paris has never pretended to be grounded or subtle. This season finally stops apologizing for that.
Visually, the show looks better than ever. Emily’s wardrobe undergoes a noticeable evolution, trading some of her more chaotic Parisian looks for a softer, more relaxed European style that openly nods to Audrey Hepburn. It’s still ridiculous, but it’s ridiculous with intent. The costume design feels like it’s finally in on the joke.
Unfortunately, the cracks start to show once the spotlight shifts away from Emily and Sylvie. Mindy, played by the endlessly charismatic Ashley Park, gets one of the season’s most disappointing arcs. For the first time, her storyline revolves almost entirely around men, sidelining the career ambition and personal growth that once made her so compelling. The teased romance with Alfie feels more like narrative busywork than an organic development. Park remains magnetic, and her musical numbers are still highlights, but the writing does her no favors.
Luc and Julien continue to function as comic relief, but the imbalance between them becomes more glaring. Bruno Gouery gets moments to shine, while Samuel Arnold’s Julien is reduced to a delivery system for one-liners. It’s frustrating because Arnold has proven time and again that he can handle deeper material. Emily in Paris simply refuses to give it to him.
Then there’s Gabriel. The eternal question mark. Lucas Bravo returns once again as Emily’s on-again-off-again chef love interest, and the show still has no idea what to do with him. His presence in Season 5 feels obligatory rather than essential, like a checkbox the writers are afraid to leave unticked. The Emily-Gabriel dynamic remains the least interesting aspect of the series, dragging down a season that otherwise seemed poised to move forward.
Season 5 also marks the departure of Camille Razat as a series regular, a decision that feels overdue. The show had long since exhausted any meaningful direction for her character, and her absence actually helps streamline the narrative. Guest appearances, including Minnie Driver in full scene-stealing mode, add flavor but rarely substance. Driver is fun, loud, and entertaining, but criminally underused.
What Emily in Paris Season 5 does understand better than ever is itself. The show leans into its reputation as escapist fluff and stops pretending it has something profound to say. Emily is still annoying, still overenthusiastic, still capable of turning any cultural misunderstanding into a LinkedIn post, but she’s also more self-aware. The series frequently calls her out, forcing her to reckon with the consequences of her toxic positivity. It doesn’t fix everything, but it helps.
At this point, Emily in Paris is unlikely to convert new viewers. If you hate it, Season 5 won’t change your mind. But if you’ve made it this far, this is probably as good as it’s going to get. The show is brighter, breezier, and more comfortable in its own skin, even as it stubbornly clings to old mistakes.
Emily in Paris Season 5 is comfort television in its purest form. It’s glossy, indulgent, and disposable, like a dessert you know you shouldn’t order but do anyway because you’re on vacation and rules don’t apply. It won’t challenge you. It won’t surprise you. But it will distract you, and sometimes, especially around the holidays, that’s enough.
