The war between art and commerce is an ancient and bloody one. The chair of Continental Studios, Griffin Mill (Bryan Cranston) is keen to deliver a decisive blow with the hammer of his newly acquired IP. Because “if Warner Bros can make a billion dollars off the plastic tits of a pussyless doll, we should be able to make TWO billion off the legacy brand of Kool-Aid.” He has just fired his long-serving studio head, Patty Leigh (Catherine O’Hara), for her preference for art and is on the verge of promoting studio executive Matt Remick (Seth Rogen) to the big job. What’s a guy – even if he is a devoted cinephile who dreams of adding his contribution to the illustrious roll call of meaningful movies, even if Patty has been his friend and mentor for years – to do? He kisses the ring, takes the job and grabs the Kool-Aid man by the hand. And with that we are off to the races for 10 fast, furious and farcical episodes of Rogen’s new Hollywood satire The Studio, created with his partner since their Superbad-minting days, Evan Goldberg.
Can Matt make a Kool-Aid movie that satisfies his inner cineaste and the gaping studio money maw? Why, it certainly seems so when Martin Scorsese (played, inimitably, by Martin Scorsese) turns out to have a script about just that subject! Well, indirectly about just that subject. Actually about the Jonestown massacre, whose 918 victims are supposed to have killed themselves by drinking … yes, you guessed it! And starring Steve Buscemi as Jim Jones. This is going to work out great.
Ike Barinholtz, Kathryn Hahn, Chase Sui Wonders and Seth Rogen in The Studio Photograph: Apple TV+
It does for viewers. The ensuing catastrophe unfolds beautifully, every small decision setting off a cascade of worsening consequences (“Why do you keep lying!” “I don’t know!”) until we arrive, awash with adrenaline and horror, on the far shore, 40 hectic minutes later, as Scorsese sobs on Charlize Theron’s shoulder. “I was so much happier two weeks ago when I was just angry and resentful that I didn’t have this job,” says Matt. The second episode, which plays out in a single take – as a director frantically tries to capture a vital scene in its own single take, as Matt’s presence on set distracts everyone – would make Brian Rix proud, though the more farce-averse among you may have to take a Valium to get through it.
Many things mark The Studio out from the ever-increasing herd of satires on Hollywood. There is the unimpeachable casting, from core to cameos; the former comprising not just O’Hara as the raw-nerved Patty but also Kathryn Hahn as permanently, incandescently furious marketing maven Maya, Chase Sui Wonders as the assistant Matt promotes to creative executive (“I thought you only said that so I wouldn’t quit!” “I did. But I also meant it,”) and, perhaps most gloriously, Ike Barinholtz as coke-snorting creative exec Sal Saperstein (“I don’t mean this to sound crass,” he says of Matt’s Jonestown plans, “but I feel like I’ve been double-stuffed by Walt Disney and Aaron Sorkin.” “Thanks?” says Matt). And of course there’s Rogen himself, who wisely makes Matt an everyman, whatever his exalted professional status may be – in thrall to celebrity despite himself, desperately keen to be liked in a job which demands that he make hateful decisions every day, and as susceptible as flattery as any of us – even if he is still, by Hollywood standards at least, a pretty good guy. And all the cameos manage that rare thing – earning their place, from Ron Howard to Zac Efron via Theron, Scorsese, Anthony Mackie, Paul Dano, Olivia Wilde and more, playing up to and around the images we have of them and seemingly having a great time doing it.
The Studio trailer – video
There are enough insider jokes to keep film nerds and keen observers of the Hollywood ecosystem happy, as wheels within wheels turn, backs are stabbed, favours are secretly traded, positions jockeyed for and bums endlessly licked, and enough good jokes to prevent the rest of us feeling shut out or short-changed.
You mustn’t come to The Studio looking for much hugging or learning. Emotional abruption, not growth, is the name of the game. Matt does have a better self in there somewhere, but it never stands a chance. Yours wouldn’t either if you had Maya screaming in your face all day, and Buscemi’s face filling with disgust when he realises what you’ve done to Marty. But watching a man’s better angels forever drowning in a rising tide of venality is always fun, is it not? And it sells.
The Studio is on Apple TV+ now.
