The Get Down

Beyond the sterling performances and addictive soundtrack, what carries The Get Down is the sheer passion infused into every element in this immense production.

What makes this series sing above all else is its vivid and frequent grasp of the verve and vigor that drives its characters forward, that feeling of sacred, magical significance that thrills and fuels every budding artist and has the power to bring a particular wonder into lives of those without knowledge that it even exists.

The show’s pastiche resolves into a gorgeous, fantastical tapestry of music legend and urban history, a reclamation of, and a love letter to, a marginalized community of a certain era, told through the unreliable tools of romance, intuition, and lived experiences. All that can be alienating, but simultaneously, the show feels like vital, radical work.

The show is so infectiously fun—in its up-tempo numbers, production design (all high-waisted, polyester pants and vinyl-topped cars) and the historical characters who pop up (from DJ Kool Herc to Ed Koch)--that it rises above its shortcomings. Add to this the shining performances of Ms. Guardiola, Mr. Moore and Mr. Smith and it’s hard not to be charmed.

The Get Down is ambitious, and sometimes it’s even fun. But it takes a whirling dervish approach to its visuals and its storytelling in a way that doesn’t do justice to its cast or to the fire behind this important moment in music history.

After the premiere the tone and style shift significantly. The storytelling takes on more of the quality of a midlevel sitcom, or the ’70s and ’80s films of Michael Schultz (“Car Wash,” “The Last Dragon”), and the big moments become increasingly maudlin. For worse and for better, The Get Down probably should have just been a Baz Luhrmann film.

"Bloated," "derivative," and "self-important" all seem fair, as does "scandalously overpriced." If producer-director Baz Luhrmann really, as has been reported, spent $120 million and 10 years to develop this thing, Netflix's accountants should be taken out and shot, and I don't mean with a camera.