The average age of viewers on the Croisette dropped by about 20 years on Monday night as the upcoming, rumored HBO series Idol premiered at the Cannes Film Festival.

It’s not the first television series to debut at Cannes, but it’s certainly the strangest. In 2017, festival director Thierry Frémaux changed the long-standing belief that film festivals are for movies only by inviting Jane Campion and Ariel Kleiman’s Top of the Lake: The Chinese Woman and David Lynch’s Twin Peaks: The Return to premiere out of competition. .

Campion and Lynch, both former Palme d’Or winners, were associated with the festival, as was Olivier Assayas, who brought his Irma Vep series to Cannes five years later, where his 1996 film of the same name debuted. .

Idol has no such connections. Starring Lily-Rose Depp as a troubled pop star and Abel Tesfaye (better known as The Weeknd) as the cult leader who trapped her, Idol is the sequel to writer-director Sam Levinson’s hit HBO drama Euphoria. with a similar penchant for graphic sex, cute clothes, and self-destruction.

In other words, this is a blatant attempt to bring the TikTok generation back to theaters with a tantalizing un-child vibe as well as hints of scandal.

In March, Rolling Stone published an article titled Idol: How HBO’s Next Euphoria Turned into Twisted Torture Porn, in which one unnamed source likened the storyline to a “rape fantasy.” Others have argued that original director Amy Seimetz’s unexpected departure was forced because Tesfaye, who also co-created, felt that the show leaned too heavily on a female perspective.

After the story was published, Tesfaye posted a clip on Twitter and Instagram in which the character humiliates the publication. Tesfaye captioned the post: “Rolling Stone, did we upset you?”

As for Depp, she said in a statement that she thought “it’s interesting that people can already say so much about the show and they haven’t even seen it.”

Well, now we’ve seen it, or at least the first two episodes of it, seamlessly stitched together for festival purposes and ending on a note that, quite frankly, was no more abstract than some of the films featured here.

Is this torture porn? Well, Depp’s Jocelyn, who is trying to make a comeback after the recent loss of her mother that put her career on hold, is certainly being tortured for our amusement. Early scenes include an argument about whether signs of her recent mental breakdown in the form of a hospital bracelet she wears during filming are sexual; dismissal of an intimate coordinator; and her facialized revenge porn photo posted online a few days before the release of her latest single.

Her bare and near-exposed breasts are constantly on display – Jocelyn prefers tops that are either sheer or made up of tiny triangles that expose the lower part of her breasts – and with several sex scenes that are graphic (especially aurally) even by HBO standards. , the term porn is not inaccurate, though it’s hard to imagine anyone would find any act erotic when it’s so awkward.

Jocelyn is so passively self-destructive that she suffocates while masturbating. This makes it easy to believe that she would be attracted to club owner/Svengali Tedros (Tesfaye) who uses strangulation as foreplay, even if he dresses like a hipster Mephistopheles and has that “rape mood” as personal assistant Joss (Rachel Sennott) is quoted as saying. that whenever it appears, the soundtrack becomes full of The Phantom of the Opera.

But it’s also more than a little funny. No matter how a little choking is perceived as arousing, a singer who fiddles with her vocal cords gets into 75 kinds of trouble.

Idol attempts to be both a dark satire of the music business and a more general contemplation of power. The first hour begins with a photo shoot in which Jocelyn is guided, close-up by an unseen photographer, through a gamut of emotions—cold, innocent, sexy, vulnerable—the picture mirrors darkly in the second hour as Tedros blindfolds her. and guides her through a series of sexual positions. The fact is that one thing cannot be different from another; A pop star from early childhood, Jocelyn’s life has always been controlled by others.

There is a clear echo of Britney Spears all around, so obvious that during an early scene she is working on a dance number that is considered a tribute to Spears.

If you know, you missed the comparison.

Like Spears, Jocelyn is constantly surrounded by a team of people who care about her mental and emotional state only to the extent that it allows her to earn money for them. They include the stunning Jane Adams, Hank Azaria, who opted for a confusing accent, and Da’Vine Joy Randolph, whose character seems to have a real heart and steals every scene she’s in.

Tedros is also interested in controlling Jocelyn’s career, as well as the careers of his many followers, who lie in half-naked heaps at his club when the day is done. It’s hard to take him seriously when Tesfaye relies on every villainous move aside from the mustache curl (he has a rat tail instead).

But it’s the weekend, and judging by the screaming crowds of young women lining the Croisette on Monday night, that might be enough.