New Year’s Eve and Drake Highlight This Episode of Atlanta
Following the near-impossible-to-top high that was “Teddy Perkins,” the next chapter of Atlanta floats gently back to Earth. “Champagne Papi” is an episode that, while entertaining and full of its own small moments, fails to build off the strong momentum of Altanta’s recent episodes.
This is far from the worst thing. Atlanta has been delivering the goods thus far for “Robbin’ Season,” and we were in for a “decompresser” of an episode sooner or later. It may be inoffensive, but inoffensive Atlanta is still good television.
Girls’ Night Out
Once again, Atlanta has chosen to delay our return to the exploits of Earn, Al, and Darius—this time with another Van-centric episode. Whereas “Helen” acted as a superb character episode for Van and Earn, dealing with the knots in their relationship, “Champagne Papi” is far less about Van herself than it is about everything and everyone else around her.
The episode sees Van and her friends—Candice, Nadine, and Tammi—glamouring up for a Drake New Year’s Party (yes, that Drake). Candice, the spunkiest of the four, has a “business” connection with DJ, a man who is, who guessed it, DJing at the party. After the girls share a conversation only “girlfriends” can have—complete with IUDs, HPV, and breasts on Tumblr—they rush off to make their ride to the party.
We get some subtle commentary here. The four friends are hellbent on scoring a picture with Drake at the party to buff their Instagrams, all while being careful not to appear as “groupies” to other partygoers. It’s a not-so-gentle reminder of the superficiality of modern culture, where hyper-photoshopped pictures and “social media game” are the measures of a person’s worth and status. Of course, we as a society are all-in for this way of life by now, even buying into it in spite of its adverse affects on traditional, face-to-face interactions.
The Golden Selfie
In a later scene, we get to see the exact struggle of these women trying to get into the party to see Drake. The four, wearing revealing dresses, are about as equipped for the cold as sorority girls during winter pledging. As they run to the not-sketchy-at-all black van that’s to chauffeur them to the party, they need an elaborate key code just to get inside. In the van, a fellow groupie is brought to tears in a hilarious moment that has Van and audience members thinking that something is wrong; when asked, the woman simply replies, “I’m just so happy.”
At Drake’s mansion, there are strict rules for the women attending: shoe booties are to be worn at all times; passports are needed for those involved in the party’s Ethiopian video shoot. As Van and company funnel inside, the woman who’d been crying earlier is once again brought to tears… this time because she’s not being allowed in. As the scene comes to an end, we get a hysterically funny moment where the woman sobs the lyrics to Drake’s first hit as proof of her dedication: “You the, you the best! You the, you the best!”
Inside, the place is soon described by Tammi, the plain-spoken member of the group, as a “thot-a-thon.” As other partygoers dance, drink, and ride a mechanical bull on display, Van explores the house in search of Drake. In the process, she meets an overly attached gentleman named Brandon, steals a jacket from Drake’s closet, and comes to discover that Drake’s grandfather (and by extension, Drake) is Mexican. And, of course, she finds out that Drake isn’t really at the party at all; there’s literally a cardboard stand-in for partygoers to pose with.
“Is This Real?”
Throughout “Champagne Papi,” Donald Glover and his production team depict Drake’s New Year’s Eve party as something superficial, or basic, or fake—whatever word you want to call it. Later on, though, there’s a scene that plays on this fact in a clever way. Nadine, one of Van’s friends, is high as a kite. As she suffers the type of panic attack and anxiety that weed is known to cause for certain individuals, she is able to calm herself down through the help of an unexpected party attendee: Darius.
While it’s anyone’s guess as to how Darius ended up there (he claims to have befriended Drake’s chef through pickup soccer), his presence adds a comical extra layer to “Champagne Papi.” As Nadine ponders her existence, she asks Darius, “Is this real?” to which he responds by saying, “No. No, it is not.” Of course, we the audience know that Darius is about to break into one of his crazy conspiracy theories; that’s just the type of guy he is. However, him saying that Nadine and the party “aren’t real” is also a subtle shot by Atlanta’s writers that she and the other groupies are… well, fake. It’s a fun little scene that plays itself well, even if I am surprised that Darius is up for partying when he almost got murdered during the last episode.
Closing Thoughts
“Champagne Papi” does a good job of moving us to and from each of these scenes, keeping the jokes and the accompanied commentary moving at a nice click. By this point of the season, Atlanta has really hit its stride with the pacing of its episodes. The result is an episode that, while not the most important of the season, is entertaining from start to finish.
Brandon, in particular, is a riot, trying oh so hard to be chivalrous only to come across as a psychotic maniac in return. Tammi also had me rolling with her absolute savage take-down of a famous black actor’s white girlfriend. How ironic that the least basic woman at that party is forced to pick up a “valley girl” accent just to escape from Tammi’s scathing insults (“I just love Devyon.” “Bitch, I love him too!”).
At the same time, however, “Champagne Papi” feels a bit too shallow for Atlanta. Sure, the overall message—that today’s society is so “fake” that Drake fans will pose with a piece of cardboard to stunt on their friends—is an important one in today’s society, not to mention an entertaining source of humor. But compared to other commentary-heavy episodes of Atlanta, such as Season 1’s “B.A.N.” or “Juneteenth,” or even “Money Bag Shawty” from Season 2, “Champagne Papi” falls flat. The superficial nature of the modern social media age has been done to death in television and movies, so seeing it here feels like a wasted opportunity more than anything else.
But perhaps that’s the point. Something that’s superficial should be shallow. Because if we don’t snag that Drake selfie for the Gram, someone else surely will.
