Irma Vep

“Irma Vep” comes off like a more cine-literate and serious-minded “Call My Agent” — which may not make the show an algorithm winner, but it’s no less brilliant for it.

Stuffed with colorful characters speaking wistful but believable dialogue, attractive locations, and graceful camerawork, Irma Vep floats along on the lightest of breezes, a behind-the-scenes comedy with enough heartbreak and humor to keep it grounded. ... The series is also ridiculously bingeable and addictive. After four episodes, we wanted more.

With so much focus on the mechanics of moviemaking, the show, like the 1996 film, risks becoming too esoteric—as if Assayas were adapting François Truffaut’s Day for Night rather than riffing on a silent movie serial about a group of criminals who call themselves “The Vampires.” But the show exhibits a pleasurable lightness.

If “Irma Vep” ’96 is a quintessential Ship of Theseus, swapping and refitting planks until it’s impossible to say where performer ends and performance begins, Vikander, through Mira, is an actress who can conjure a sea-ready vessel at will for whatever each new situation demands. She’s also a main vector for this “Irma Vep” and its more mischievous side.

A remake of a remake expanded into bingeable long-form shape (!!) that plays brilliantly in the realm of post-modern irony and self-reflexiveness, “Irma Vep” may baffle some at times. ... “Irma Vep” certainly leans into a more exclusive conversation about art — likely too elusive for mainstream audiences — but that lively discussion will be delectable for those in the know.

Assayas has tackled art vs. commerce before, but never with such charm and casual brilliance. Instead of mocking the industry he loves, he’s made a project that highlights the difficulty of a project like “Irma Vep” that almost celebrates its own existence. Yes, making a TV series is hard, but “Irma Vep” is proof that it’s worth the effort.

Crackling good, sometimes hilariously farcical showbiz satire. Sure, there are times when you’ll likely get lost in the weeds, but that’s kind of the point, as director Assayas is leading us through a funhouse-mirror maze filled with wonderfully chaotic and deliberately messy developments.

Vikander is extremely capable of filling the role that was vacated by Cheung. ... The reason why it even works at all is because of these interpersonal scenes that delight in interactions among the eclectic cast of characters. Mira struggling for power in her relationship with her ex, Gottfried’s unhinged personality, and Vidal’s neurosis are what make Irma Vep soar.

Irma Vep takes a bit too long setting the table before getting to the meat of this adaptation, but once it gets going in the third episode, Assayas is crafting a remarkably personal and shockingly honest look at art and himself that expands upon one of his masterpieces in captivating ways.

I don't think the director nails the social-media age the way '90s-Irma fully witnessed its own pop-culture landscape. But after the first three episodes, I've fallen for this French froth.

Entertaining, disorienting, at times annoying, Irma Vep is like being tickled.

It ought to be too clever for its own good but, somehow, Assayas pulls it off.

It’s probably not for everyone but once you tune into its whimsical rhythms, Irma Vep makes for a coolly captivating summer binge-watch. Witty, sophisticated, not always entirely successful, but rarely less than riveting.

What this sometimes playful, sometimes moody Irma Vep gives us is less a tabloid fan-fic guessing game, however, than its creator’s own neurosis and fears about where he’s been, where the art form he’s obsessed over is going and what happens to cinephiles if cinema reaches its last-gasp phase.

Irma Vep is very loose and naturalistic, combining footage from the original Les Vampires with scenes shot for the show-within-a-show. But we’re just happy to see that Vikander’s story as Mira will be accompanied by a well-thought-out story about the production itself.

Only four of eight episodes were available for review, and the going is slow, at least at the start. But the series is not without its intriguing calculations. ... What a viewer has to reconcile are the intentions of Mr. Assayas and his staggered construction: layers of interpersonal messiness, even emotional self-destruction, atop genuine artistic motivation and, maybe, accomplishment. The former, admittedly, is what grabs a viewer. The latter makes the time worthwhile.

It’s become a cliché, the sort Assayas would pick on in one of his films, to say that good TV rewards patience, but this show really does. Among its pleasures is the work of Vikander.

It’s a credit to Assayas’s willingness as a creator to dig ever deeper into his experience as a filmmaker and person that this remake of a remake telling the story of a remake of a remake finds such original and organic material to mine—and does so with such a personal touch.

The push-pull between what’s authentic and what’s make-believe is a source of anxious energy throughout. Better still, that tension grows stronger with each passing hour as additional characters are introduced and meta layers materialize. ... Irma Vep is blandest when its focus is most squarely on Mira’s ho-hum romantic entanglements and inner conflicts. Instead, she functions best as a tour-guide device for the show’s wider examination of 21st-century moviemaking in all its opposing interests, wacko personalities, and logistical and artistic stresses and strains.