«There’s a light that never goes out»: The Smiths probably didn’t picture the Emily in Paris version of the French capital when writing their song. Created by Darren Star, this breezy and contemporary Netflix rom-com presents Paris as a city saturated with light and lovable clichés, where pop aesthetics meet Disney-like rêverie. In this world, the series’ cinematography, crafted by Steven Fierberg, is exaggerated and joyful, surreal and naïve, light-filled and branded. Emily’s Paris seems to shimmer on screen even before the platform’s red “N” appears.
But what’s Disney about the story of an American marketing specialist in Paris? And why does that convergence find its full expression in the skilled manipulation of light? Emily in Paris shows how cinematography can be more than a technical tool or a generator of vibes—it becomes a perceptual key. It’s Disney-like because it shines, but also because it connects conceptually to the visual and consumer culture born with Instagram.
Emily’s Paris: a city that shines brighter than reality
Disney is a world made of a few essential elements: strong values, childhood wonder, royal families, kind-hearted girls, wicked witches, and golden castles. It’s not reality, but a cleaned-up version of it. Likewise, Emily’s Paris is cleaner than the real one (even literally).
And the light in the series isn’t realistic. It’s not even naturalistic. It’s optimized. It becomes a mediator between the viewer and the story, playing with perception. Paris’s urban spaces—its boulevards, terraces, offices, and cafés—resemble the pages of a lifestyle catalogue, where each light source is meticulously designed to highlight an idealized effect.
A bit like an animated universe where, instead of empty cans or glass bottles, timid little flowers bloom at the edge of the street. This is the Paris where we watch the protagonist evolve: a metropolitan world that feels part Fantasia, part Nosedive, the Black Mirror episode where reality takes the shape of a glossy magazine. Here, the light always shines, but no one takes themselves too seriously
This choice by Steven Fierberg brings psychological, sociological, and cultural implications. Psychologically, it conveys a sense of safety and emotional lightness; sociologically, it proposes an aspirational lifestyle; culturally, it reinforces an aestheticized narrative of European urban life, interwoven with parallel themes, including darker ones like overtourism and the commodification of images by social media.
Narratively, Fierberg’s light is Apollonian: warm, diffused, free of shadows or sharp edges—capable of softening even the starkest contradictions. Even character conflicts melt into a palette of pastel tones, polished surfaces, endlessly clear skies, and an Eiffel Tower that sparkles like a jewel under the moonlight. Of course, real Paris is not this. But in Darren Star’s story, it is photographically reborn—both protagonist and backdrop, an emotional landscape that reflects the imaginary.
Once in Paris, you realize the colors are not that vivid. You’ll find crowded metros, scooters identical to the ones back home, smog, campy outfits, garbage, traffic, and grey clouds. These don’t rob the city of its poetry—but on the real plane, they make it more layered, maybe more adult. Emily in Paris, however, chooses not to let us off the Montmartre carousel.
A fairytale Paris: light, filters, and dreams made for your feed
This transfiguration of urban space is far from reductive. Quite the opposite—anyone who works with light, in cinema, architecture, or design, knows just how hard it is to create a space that conveys beauty without losing depth. The visual Disneyfication of Emily in Paris is the result of a photographic project that thrives on the illusion of simplicity. Every shot is calibrated. Every light source helps build an enhanced version of Paris, where love is found, dream jobs materialize, and maybe even a Michelin-starred dish lands on your plate. This is a use of light that transforms the city into the set of a commercial: every corner is scenic, and every hour of the day is golden, like Instagram sunsets tagged with #sunsetlovers.
Sublimation is everywhere—from the tiny apartments of the Latin Quarter to impromptu birthday parties in the street, from sparkling nights in Versailles to Claude Monet’s gardens in Giverny. All places that tug at the heartstrings (and feed) of those who love the series. This precise choice stems from a photographic direction that knows how to play with perception to generate desire. Like Walt Disney’s fairytales, this Ville Lumière is unreal—but not implausible. We viewers believe it could exist. Even if only for a few minutes. Just like we believe a marketing specialist could win over everyone: clients, Miranda Priestly-like CEOs, and the most charming men—French, English, Italian. It’s the light that brings it all together: the detachment from reality and the dream that sustains the show’s visual system.
Behind the light of Emily in Paris
«Paris is a city obsessed with beauty», said Steven Fierberg, ASC, the show’s cinematographer, in an interview with American Cinematographer.
Born in Detroit, a New Yorker at heart and a Los Angeles-based professional, Fierberg showed sensitivity in defining a world of art, formal rigor, and aesthetic excess to narrate the story of an average American woman, pragmatic and hyper-performing, drawn to more ontologically European concepts like art, sensuality, and beauty.
To Disney-fy, Fierberg used Arri Alexa LF cameras with Signature Prime lenses, able to deliver clean, sharp images with soft chromatic tones. The use of Tiffen Glimmerglass filters (especially the 1/4 strength) added a touch of glamour to the scenes, as he explained in the interview, subtly softening and diffusing highlights to create the ethereal look that defines Emily in Paris.
Flare rendering was carefully controlled to maintain a glossy but non-intrusive aesthetic.
The neutrality of the Signature lenses, for Fierberg, provided the perfect canvas, allowing the light to define the scene. For low-light contexts—like the iconic scene at Le Château de Sonnay, the luxurious estate of Camille’s family—Fierberg opted for high ISOs (up to 1200) and 270° shutter angles, combined with wide apertures to capture every luminous variation generated by candlelight alone. This approach preserved visual consistency even in complex conditions.
Outdoors, this cinematographer’s philosophy is even more essential: shape natural light using white reflectors and black negative fills to create contrast and definition, without adding artificial lighting. His use of 1×2 meter rectangular frames for diffusion—more practical and effective than traditional 4x4s—shows how tool choices deeply shape visual impact. So, does Disney exist even in scenes shot with natural light? Yes—if it’s chosen and shaped the right way. Still, as Fierberg himself admitted, one of the greatest challenges was creating beauty even in less favorable locations. In a scene set in a dark, anonymous nightclub, the entire environment was “painted with light” to match the series’ polished look.
Using PAR 36 spotlights (narrow-beam theatrical lights), smoky atmospheres, and backlighting, the result was striking: «We needed contrast in that background, with both very bright and very dark elements, to bring the scene to life. With our talented gaffer Stéphane Bourgoin, key grip Pascal Delaunay, and a fantastic crew, I think we turned that small dark room into one of the most beautiful scenes of the season», said Fierberg. The cinematographer never used the word Disneyfication, but it’s clear that Emily’s luminous world was built down to the smallest detail—to portray a dreamlike Paris, one that feels accessible, with just enough ties to viewers’ everyday lives.
Like the ever-present, real-life brands, the campaigns, the briefs, the romantic entanglements—all universal elements, no matter the lighting. In Emily in Paris, light isn’t just atmosphere: it’s the construction of desire, a visual synthesis of dream and recognizability. It’s a little bit Disney. And maybe that’s why… we believe in it.
