Étoile

I have some criticisms, and yet I kind of love the series — it’s that kind of show. You recognize the flaws, but that doesn’t stop you from appreciating it as a whole and wanting to watch more.

The dialogue is, as always, quicker than a chaîné turn; the takes are long and lush (with all eight episodes directed by the Emmy-winning duo, whose love of the master shot emphatically endures); and the settings and costuming are unsurprisingly sumptuous, especially in Paris. .... However, some of the more dance-focused cast members fail to pop against their fellow actors.

Packed with terrific choreography by “Maisel” alum Marguerite Derricks, the luxe-looking series — Season 1 comprises eight hour-long episodes — is filmed on location at familiar, postcard-worthy locales. .... If you’ve never seen “Swan Lake” — or even “Black Swan” — don’t fret. If you don’t know a plié from a pirouette, not to worry. “Étoile” is about the people, not the bends, leaps and spins.

Highly enjoyable. .... The dancers are good, naturally, even if the dances can sometimes feel less exciting than we’re meant to find them. More interesting is the placing of bodies in space when nobody’s dancing, lending a choreographic energy to ordinary conversations.

A project that is, somehow, even more Amy Sherman-Palladino–y. It’s way more energized, so intent on its niche fascinations it can’t help but charm you.

Étoile has all the elements of a classic Sherman-Palladino joint, which is to say that it’s a pleasure to watch. The dialogue is punchy. Cultural references abound.

Étoile is a sharply written and excellently acted show that’s all but guaranteed to satisfy fans of Sherman-Palladino’s trademark style. While the pacing and romances are on the weaker end, the stunning dance numbers and nuanced platonic relationships more than make up for it.

The couple (who also brought us Gilmore Girls) make a triumphant return to the world of barres and no-holds-barred ambition with the delightfully nimble Étoile.

While Étoile’s numerous characters help make the show feel very lived-in, it's also overstuffed, and I struggled to keep track of everyone in the first few episodes.

There were moments when I wished Étoile dug a little deeper or aimed for less obvious punchlines. But when it works, it works. These showrunners know how to set up a satisfyingly messy romance, and how to introduce a deep friendship with years of backstory beneath the surface.

Her [Amy Sherman-Palladino's] most sprawling, least accessible, but perhaps most personal TV project yet. .... Those who can get on its wavelength will be well-rewarded with a funny, passionate celebration of both ballet and the weirdos who make it.

Through its first three episodes, “Étoile” focuses more on the politics behind the scenes (the donors, management, conflict between the business and creative sides) and mines humor from casting a bull in a ballet performance and from a wealthy right-wing donor who drives Jack crazy.

"Etoile" (which means "star" in French) wants to be more high-brow than it should. The dances are beautiful, but the characters shouldn't have to walk in others' toe shoes. We've seen the petulance, the bickering, the histrionics before. .... And the cast? It's too large for something that's already unwieldy. Eliminating the side stories (did we need Jack's sister in this?) could put the focus where it needs to be: creating art in a bankrupt society.

We’re giving Étoile a recommendation more on hope and the Palladinos’ reputation than anything we saw in the first episode, which moved slowly and felt a bit too insular for our comfort.

Étoile (Prime Video) will not bore you stiff, although it may occasionally make you roll your eyes at the sheer amount of whimsy involved.

Étoile is … fine. It passes the time. But every person seems to be acting in a slightly different show from everyone else, and tonally it falls between any and every possible stool.

There is so much going on in Étoile (the recalcitrant daughter returning to France, the chauvinist dancer desperate for his shot at the big time, the family legacy being unravelled by corporate interference) that, at times, it might be better served played at a slower tempo, with more focus on the humanity. When it has room to breathe, Étoile can be quite beautiful.

For six or seven episodes, the hour-long series is likably light-on-its-feet, infused with its creators’ love and admiration for this world and boasting strong lead performances. .... Some of the things that happen in the Étoile homestretch are so pointlessly dumb they soured me on a show that I’d mostly been enjoying.

When Étoile stops trying too hard and gives itself up to that sort of starry-eyed euphoria, it’s a terpsichorean treasure.

Despite its budget and resources (much of the New York story takes place in and around Lincoln Center), the series feels like it’s told by ballet patrons, for ballet patrons — people who like watching pretty people glide across a stage, but lack the curiosity to ask why or how they do it, let alone share the answers with an audience without access to The Met.