You can chart the decline and fall of the American dream through the prism of Darren Star protagonists. Carrie Bradshaw of “Sex and the City” could afford an apartment full of Manolo Blahniks as a freelance columnist, while Liza Miller of “Younger” has to deceive her way into an entry level publishing job. Like her predecessors, the titular heroine of “Emily in Paris” (played by Lily Collins) has a passion for storytelling — but rather than the written word, she’s channeled that skill into social media marketing for brands, plus her personal Instagram account. A move to Europe hasn’t put a dent in Emily’s ultra-American work ethic; if anything, she’s infectious, with her unconflicted capitalism rubbing off on colleagues, friends and lovers like a virus.

Upon its premiere in October 2020, “Emily in Paris” went viral in another sense: the show became a massive hit for Netflix, bestowing upon Season 4 the multipart release strategy reserved for the binge-happy platform’s most popular titles. (The first five episodes are currently streaming, while the back half will premiere next month.) With microscopic stakes, eye-popping outfits and a second-screen potential hindered only by its liberal use of subtitles, the series has become emblematic of the so-called “gourmet cheeseburgers” prized by Netflix executives.

It’s thus equally likely that you never noticed “Emily in Paris” taking an extended hiatus — more than 18 months! — between seasons due to last year’s entertainment strikes and that you’re overjoyed to see it return, especially after the 2024 Olympics have left the City of Lights at top of mind for many viewers. Little Berets (that’s what I call Emily’s fan army), fear not! “Emily in Paris” remains a feather-light soufflé of workplace comedy, bland romance and shameless commodification. Whether she’s using a rooftop tryst as inspiration for a skincare campaign or guilting an ex into taking part in an activation, Emily is the delulu Don Draper her generation deserves.

Describing the plot of Season 4 feels like reading the fine print under one of Agence Grateau’s glitzy advertisements: utterly besides the point of all that visual stimulation. Nevertheless, Season 3 ended on a cliffhanger, with the wedding of Emily’s love interest Gabriel (Lucas Bravo) and his longtime girlfriend Camille (Camille Razat) called off by the bride at the altar, blowing up Emily’s own relationship with British business bro Alfie (Lucien Laviscount). But while Gabriel and Camille’s relationship is no more, they have a lasting memento in the form of Camille’s surprise pregnancy.

Gabriel and Emily have the distinction of being one of the least sexy or suspenseful couples in the history of will-they-won’t-theys, rivaled only by Camille’s dalliance with Greek artist Sofia (Melia Kreiling) or the affair between Emily’s singer roommate Mindy (Ashley Park) and billionaire scion Nico de Léon (Paul Forman), heir to the show’s version of luxury conglomerate LVMH. (It’s called JVMA, only bothering to change 50% of the acronym.) Even “Emily in Paris” seems a little bored by romance, spending the first act of Season 4 either dutifully advancing the predictable plot or casually abandoning its few major twists. Much like Emily herself, the focus of the show is squarely on work, where the withering gaze of agency boss Sylvie (Philippine Leroy-Beaulieu) creates enough friction to give the proceedings some spark.

“Emily in Paris” is most fun when it breaks the fourth wall, whether utilizing product placement from real-life brands like Baccarat, stunt-casting playwright Jeremy O. Harris as a diva fashion designer or — most gratifying of all — acknowledging that Emily is both selfish and irritating. (At one point, Emily dines and dashes on Camille’s friends, leaving the miffed Frenchwomen to pay for her very un-French iced tea.) But such flashes of self-awareness get their power for being so rare. Marketing is all about creating an illusion and committing to it at all costs, an art “Emily in Paris” remains as adept in as ever.