Emily in Paris Season Five: More Rome, more romance

Five seasons in, Emily in Paris knows exactly what it is and, crucially, what it is not. This is not prestige television, nor does it aspire to realism or subtlety. Instead, Darren Star's glossy fantasy continues to revel in escapism, romantic chaos and high-fashion nonsense — and season five leans into that identity with renewed confidence. 

The result is a series that feels lighter, slightly wiser and, at times, surprisingly heartfelt, without ever abandoning its commitment to pure, frothy entertainment.

From the outset, the show invites viewers to "turn off your brain and jump", advice delivered by Alfie with a wink that doubles as a mission statement. Once criticised for its cartoonish take on Parisian life and its cheerful disregard for cultural nuance, Emily in Paris has evolved into one of television's most enduring comfort watches. It is a pastel-coloured fever dream of couture outfits, impulsive romances and spontaneous musical numbers, anchored by Lily Collins' endlessly earnest Emily Cooper.

Season five loosens its Parisian grip, with much of the action relocating to Rome. The change of scenery refreshes the formula without fundamentally altering it. Italy provides new opportunities for glamour, flirtation and comic misunderstandings, particularly through Marcello, the impeccably styled cashmere heir who represents Emily's latest romantic detour. 

What distinguishes season five from earlier outings is a subtle shift towards emotional maturity. The show even toys with the idea that friendships evolve, hinting that Emily and Mindy's bond may no longer be as unshakeable as it once seemed.

Their relationship unfolds amid truffle hunts, designer lunches and multilingual sniping, all while Emily continues to conduct business as if Instagram captions are a form of diplomacy.

Back in the romantic mix, too, is Gabriel, whose decision to follow Emily to Rome is immediately framed as a catastrophic lapse in judgment. His regret is evident even before Emily realises he is there, distracted as she is by professional schemes that range from inspired to utterly unhinged. 

Few shows could sell a plot point involving rubbing raw hamburger meat on one's hands to attract a fashion designer's dog, but Emily in Paris commits so fully to its own logic that it somehow works.

Ashley Park's Mindy remains the show's musical heartbeat, popping up with show-stopping performances that feel contractually obligatory and narratively unnecessary — and yet entirely welcome. 

This time, she swaps Paris for Rome after rejecting a reality TV judging gig in China, delivering quips and karaoke numbers with the confidence of someone who knows the spotlight belongs to her whenever she sings.

The season's standout addition, however, is Minnie Driver as Princess Jane, a delightfully unhinged socialite who claims to know everyone from Fiat to Fendi. Driver plays the role with delicious self-awareness, savouring the camp excess of lines that sound tailor-made for her delivery. 

More than comic relief, Princess Jane also becomes a conduit for the show's increasingly brazen product placement, folding brand endorsements directly into the narrative with a wink and a shrug.

What distinguishes season five from earlier outings is a subtle shift towards emotional maturity. Collins, now a new mother in real life, brings a gentler self-awareness to Emily. The character reflects on her early Paris days as a personal "belle époque", bristles at jokes about her romantic history and quietly questions where her life is heading. 

The show even toys with the idea that friendships evolve, hinting that Emily and Mindy's bond may no longer be as unshakeable as it once seemed.

Sylvie, played with steely elegance by Philippine Leroy-Beaulieu, is also afforded greater depth, as old connections resurface and new romantic entanglements threaten her carefully curated independence. 

Meanwhile, Bruno Gouery's Luc continues to deliver some of the series' sharpest lines, his deadpan absurdity providing a counterpoint to Emily's relentless optimism.

Not everything lands perfectly. Some storylines feel rushed, and others — including a potentially rich subplot involving Julien — are frustratingly underdeveloped. Yet these missteps are easy to forgive in a series that prioritises pleasure over polish.

Ultimately, Emily in Paris season five succeeds because it embraces its own ridiculousness while allowing its characters to grow just enough to keep things interesting. It remains colourful, indulgent and joyously silly — the televisual equivalent of a lavish dessert best enjoyed without guilt. As holiday viewing goes, there are far worse ways to spend a weekend than surrendering to its charms, mince pies in hand.

Emily in Paris season five is streaming now on Netflix.