[Editor’s Note: The following review contains spoilers for “The Idol” Episode 5, “Jocelyn Forever,” including the ending.]
Tucked within a dull, dumbfounding finale, there’s one line that, I think, speaks to the general point “The Idol” has been trying to make. Thankfully, it’s shared by the loudest person in the room. Andrew Finkelstein hasn’t been around much. The Live Nation rep played with demented backroom-Hollywood energy by Eli Roth popped up in the premiere, as part of the executive class concerned that Jocelyn’s (Lily-Rose Depp) personal crisis might impact her professional ambitions/their bottom lines. Later, he would either be heard on the phone, threatening to cancel the tour, or seen at his office, threatening to cancel the tour, usually peppering the conversation with curse words and comments so gross they were obviously only included to provoke further controversy. Nevertheless, the verbose boss held the keys to the kingdom, and he just kept dangling them in front of his pop star client.
Until now. After showing up to Jocelyn’s if not fully prepared to cancel the tour then certainly considering it, Andrew quips his way through a halfhearted seduction and whole-assed performance, where his skepticism fades, his cynicism withers, and he falls in love with Jocelyn all over again. Setting aside his likely roofied glass of water, he tells the proud, panting singer sitting before him, “This is the best fucking music that’s ever poured out of you. […] The pain you went through, everything with your mom, all of it, it all fucking led you to right here. As a parent figure, I fucking couldn’t be more proud of you.” And with that, the tour is back on. Jocelyn is given back the keys to her livelihood. She’s in the driver’s seat, at least in the eyes’ of “The Idol.”
In a nutshell, this is what Sam Levinson and Abel Tesfaye’s remarkably thin satire is all about. The entertainment industry, as embodied by Andrew and the rest of the heartless suits, doesn’t care about people. It doesn’t care about art. It cares about money, and money makes any abuse worth it in the end. That mentality exists in Jocelyn, as well. As evidenced by the much-discussed hairbrush — “Didn’t you say this is the brush your mom beat you with?” he asks, backstage before her concert. “It’s brand new.” — Jocelyn invited Tedros Tedros (Abel Tesfaye) and his cruel brand of motivation into her life on purpose. After losing her mother, the brutal original bristle-wielder, Jocelyn needed someone to take her place; to punish her and push her; to love her and express that love in ways others know isn’t really love at all. Tedros Tedros is both dumb enough to think what he’s doing is brilliant and that he’s in charge. In the finale, from his disheveled state during the showcase to his demolished public image post time jump, it’s clear he’s the hunted, not the hunter.
It’s also clear that none of that makes any actual sense. As we discussed last week, just because “The Idol” laid some ground work for its second-half twist, that doesn’t mean it justifies these characters’ choices or the existence of the series overall. Is Jocelyn aware she’s addicted to abuse? Did she really need this specific guy and his super-strange tactics to produce an album she’s proud of? Even if she did, which is a stretch, it’s hard to explain why she brings him back into her life after getting what she needs. Guys like Tedros Tedros are a dime a dozen, and that’s something the series emphasizes by making him out to be so freaking lame. No matter how impressed Nikki (Jane Adams) is with the singers Tedros Tedros found, that doesn’t stop her from ruining his life and then laughing maniacally after recapping how she did it. If anyone was going to prop up a fragile male ego based on his questionable ability to groom pop stars, it would be them! It would be the entertainment industry! Not Jocelyn!
Abel Tesfaye in “The Idol”Courtesy of Eddy Chen / HBO
So… does she actually like him? Does she just think she likes him? On stage, to start her first show, Jocelyn introduces Tedros Tedros as “the love of her life” — a choice that baffles and enrages Nikki, Chaim (Hank Azaria), and Andrew, even though they just talked about all the free publicity driven by Jocelyn’s controversial relationship, so you think they’d be happy? — but she then emphasizes their new dynamic by whispering to Tedros Tedros, “You’re mine forever. Now go stand over there.”
To be clear, Jocelyn and her team annihilated this man. Talia, the very bribe-able Vanity Fair reporter played by Hari Nef, published a story that featured “quotes from the hookers he used to pimp out.” He lost his club. The IRS is going after him. His failed rap career is now a known joke, and Chaim even mocks Mauricio (Tedros’ real name) for being a two-time employee of the month at Carl’s Jr. Frankly, “The Idol” has no right to look down on Carl’s Jr., a fast-food establishment that’s not good, but is still far more nourishing and entertaining than anything within this sloppy series. If Jocelyn just needs to keep Tedros Tedros around for motivation, she doesn’t need to go public with that choice. (And why, oh why, do Levinson and Tesfaye want us to feel sorry for this man?)
Maybe she wants the free publicity. Maybe she just doesn’t want to hide anymore. Maybe it’s for some other reason that would become clear in Season 2, but I am begging HBO not to let that happen. No answer is worth sitting through any more of this. Many of the questions evoked by Episode 1 (and Episode 5, for that matter) are still unanswered in the finale — and not questions that should be left open. Who is Jocelyn? What does she care about? Is she meant to be a real person, or just emblematic of real-life pop stars? Telling us what she did isn’t the same thing as helping us to understand why she did it, just as “The Idol” closing its strict narrative plotline — Jocelyn did produce a new album and she does get to go on tour — isn’t the same as providing any sort of closure. Be it a season or series finale, this ending needs a reason to exist, and “The Idol” still has us guessing.
“Jocelyn Forever”? Hardly. Please, just let it end.
“The Idol” is available on HBO and Max. The series has not been renewed for Season 2.
Tucked within a dull, dumbfounding finale, there’s one line that, I think, speaks to the general point “The Idol” has been trying to make. Thankfully, it’s shared by the loudest person in the room. Andrew Finkelstein hasn’t been around much. The Live Nation rep played with demented backroom-Hollywood energy by Eli Roth popped up in the premiere, as part of the executive class concerned that Jocelyn’s (Lily-Rose Depp) personal crisis might impact her professional ambitions/their bottom lines. Later, he would either be heard on the phone, threatening to cancel the tour, or seen at his office, threatening to cancel the tour, usually peppering the conversation with curse words and comments so gross they were obviously only included to provoke further controversy. Nevertheless, the verbose boss held the keys to the kingdom, and he just kept dangling them in front of his pop star client.
Until now. After showing up to Jocelyn’s if not fully prepared to cancel the tour then certainly considering it, Andrew quips his way through a halfhearted seduction and whole-assed performance, where his skepticism fades, his cynicism withers, and he falls in love with Jocelyn all over again. Setting aside his likely roofied glass of water, he tells the proud, panting singer sitting before him, “This is the best fucking music that’s ever poured out of you. […] The pain you went through, everything with your mom, all of it, it all fucking led you to right here. As a parent figure, I fucking couldn’t be more proud of you.” And with that, the tour is back on. Jocelyn is given back the keys to her livelihood. She’s in the driver’s seat, at least in the eyes’ of “The Idol.”
In a nutshell, this is what Sam Levinson and Abel Tesfaye’s remarkably thin satire is all about. The entertainment industry, as embodied by Andrew and the rest of the heartless suits, doesn’t care about people. It doesn’t care about art. It cares about money, and money makes any abuse worth it in the end. That mentality exists in Jocelyn, as well. As evidenced by the much-discussed hairbrush — “Didn’t you say this is the brush your mom beat you with?” he asks, backstage before her concert. “It’s brand new.” — Jocelyn invited Tedros Tedros (Abel Tesfaye) and his cruel brand of motivation into her life on purpose. After losing her mother, the brutal original bristle-wielder, Jocelyn needed someone to take her place; to punish her and push her; to love her and express that love in ways others know isn’t really love at all. Tedros Tedros is both dumb enough to think what he’s doing is brilliant and that he’s in charge. In the finale, from his disheveled state during the showcase to his demolished public image post time jump, it’s clear he’s the hunted, not the hunter.
It’s also clear that none of that makes any actual sense. As we discussed last week, just because “The Idol” laid some ground work for its second-half twist, that doesn’t mean it justifies these characters’ choices or the existence of the series overall. Is Jocelyn aware she’s addicted to abuse? Did she really need this specific guy and his super-strange tactics to produce an album she’s proud of? Even if she did, which is a stretch, it’s hard to explain why she brings him back into her life after getting what she needs. Guys like Tedros Tedros are a dime a dozen, and that’s something the series emphasizes by making him out to be so freaking lame. No matter how impressed Nikki (Jane Adams) is with the singers Tedros Tedros found, that doesn’t stop her from ruining his life and then laughing maniacally after recapping how she did it. If anyone was going to prop up a fragile male ego based on his questionable ability to groom pop stars, it would be them! It would be the entertainment industry! Not Jocelyn!
Abel Tesfaye in “The Idol”Courtesy of Eddy Chen / HBO
So… does she actually like him? Does she just think she likes him? On stage, to start her first show, Jocelyn introduces Tedros Tedros as “the love of her life” — a choice that baffles and enrages Nikki, Chaim (Hank Azaria), and Andrew, even though they just talked about all the free publicity driven by Jocelyn’s controversial relationship, so you think they’d be happy? — but she then emphasizes their new dynamic by whispering to Tedros Tedros, “You’re mine forever. Now go stand over there.”
To be clear, Jocelyn and her team annihilated this man. Talia, the very bribe-able Vanity Fair reporter played by Hari Nef, published a story that featured “quotes from the hookers he used to pimp out.” He lost his club. The IRS is going after him. His failed rap career is now a known joke, and Chaim even mocks Mauricio (Tedros’ real name) for being a two-time employee of the month at Carl’s Jr. Frankly, “The Idol” has no right to look down on Carl’s Jr., a fast-food establishment that’s not good, but is still far more nourishing and entertaining than anything within this sloppy series. If Jocelyn just needs to keep Tedros Tedros around for motivation, she doesn’t need to go public with that choice. (And why, oh why, do Levinson and Tesfaye want us to feel sorry for this man?)
Maybe she wants the free publicity. Maybe she just doesn’t want to hide anymore. Maybe it’s for some other reason that would become clear in Season 2, but I am begging HBO not to let that happen. No answer is worth sitting through any more of this. Many of the questions evoked by Episode 1 (and Episode 5, for that matter) are still unanswered in the finale — and not questions that should be left open. Who is Jocelyn? What does she care about? Is she meant to be a real person, or just emblematic of real-life pop stars? Telling us what she did isn’t the same thing as helping us to understand why she did it, just as “The Idol” closing its strict narrative plotline — Jocelyn did produce a new album and she does get to go on tour — isn’t the same as providing any sort of closure. Be it a season or series finale, this ending needs a reason to exist, and “The Idol” still has us guessing.
“Jocelyn Forever”? Hardly. Please, just let it end.
Grade: D+
“The Idol” is available on HBO and Max. The series has not been renewed for Season 2.