A reality dating show in “Paris” — with a Texas zip code
Only Netflix would sell you Parisian romance and deliver cowboy boots. That’s the joke at the heart of The Wrong Paris, a new romantic comedy that premiered September 12, 2025, and leans into a bait-and-switch premise: a young woman signs up for a dating show assuming it films in France, then learns the cameras are rolling in Paris, Texas. She tries to tank her time on the series, but feelings get in the way. It’s a clean, high-concept setup—light, a little cheeky, and built for a Friday-night scroll.
The film is directed by Janeen Damian and produced by Brad Krevoy and Michael Damian, a team that has built a reliable pipeline of cozy, crowd-pleasing titles. The cast is stacked for a streamer rom-com: Miranda Cosgrove leads, with Pierson Fodé, Frances Fisher, Madison Pettis, Yvonne Orji, Madeleine Arthur, Emilija Baranac, Torrance Coombs, Christin Park, and Hannah Stocking filling out the ensemble. Nicole Henrich wrote the screenplay.
Behind the scenes, the music is a key swing factor. Composer Nathan Lanier, known for Jem and the Holograms, Home Before Dark, Max Steel, and Justin Bieber’s Believe, handles the score. It’s his third straight collaboration with Janeen Damian after Falling for Christmas and Irish Wish, and it reunites him with the Damian production circle he scored on High Strung and High Strung Free Dance.
Nathan Lanier’s return and the rom-com sound that sticks
Lanier has carved out a lane blending warm orchestral writing with modern pop textures—bright themes, rhythmic pulse, and just enough sparkle to lift montage and meet-cute moments. In romantic comedies, music isn’t window dressing; it sets the emotional temperature, lands comedic beats, and smooths the jump from snark to sincerity. With a concept that juggles French fantasy and Texas reality TV, the score’s role is even clearer: it has to clue the viewer into the tone while the story plays with dual identities.
His past work gives a hint of the palette. Home Before Dark favored clean, melodic motifs to track character curiosity, while Falling for Christmas and Irish Wish leaned on buoyant, seasonal warmth—tuneful, accessible, and designed to be felt more than noticed. Expect a similar instinct here: a musical throughline that keeps the story’s heart steady as the setting jokes land.
The Damian–Lanier partnership has momentum. Falling for Christmas (2022) helped relaunch Netflix’s holiday slate that year; Irish Wish (2024) kept that audience engaged with travel-romance gloss. The Wrong Paris moves the collaboration outside the holiday bubble, but the DNA—romance first, gentle comedy second—stays put. For Netflix, that continuity matters. Viewers who return for a specific “feel” don’t want a total reset every time.
Cast-wise, the film mixes familiar faces across TV, film, and digital. Cosgrove brings the quick, self-aware charm she honed on iCarly and its revival—useful for a character trying to game a reality format while slowly catching real feelings. Fodé’s past work in daytime drama and romantic fare gives him easy chemistry and an anchor presence. Fisher adds veteran gravitas; Orji brings sharp timing from Insecure; Arthur and Baranac tap into the teen-to-young-adult audience Netflix knows well; Pettis and Coombs widen the demo reach; Stocking and Park speak to the social-first crowd.
Here’s a quick look at the key players shaping the project:
- Director: Janeen Damian
- Producers: Brad Krevoy, Michael Damian
- Screenwriter: Nicole Henrich
- Composer: Nathan Lanier
- Lead cast: Miranda Cosgrove, Pierson Fodé
- Supporting cast: Frances Fisher, Madison Pettis, Yvonne Orji, Madeleine Arthur, Emilija Baranac, Torrance Coombs, Christin Park, Hannah Stocking
The premise sits neatly in Netflix’s rom-com wheelhouse: a crisp hook that can travel globally in a single sentence. Since films like Set It Up and To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before proved the appetite for feel-good, low-stakes romance on streaming, the service has kept feeding that lane—especially with holiday titles and high-concept spins. Paris, Texas versus Paris, France is a clean cultural contrast. It plays as satire of dating shows while still letting the story find heart.
The “show within a show” angle also gives the music more to do. Reality formats pack in jingles, stings, and cues that telegraph drama. A narrative film about a reality series needs score that can weave around that texture—sometimes echoing the on-camera gloss, other times cutting through it to reveal the characters underneath. That kind of tonal threading is Lanier’s comfort zone: clear themes, rhythmic lift, and a modern sheen that doesn’t overpower the scene.
On the production side, Brad Krevoy and the Motion Picture Corporation of America have turned consistency into a brand, shepherding titles like A Castle for Christmas and the A Christmas Prince franchise. Michael Damian, working closely with Janeen Damian, has kept the focus on accessible, four-quadrant romance. The Wrong Paris extends that template beyond holiday calendars and into late-summer comfort viewing.
Miranda Cosgrove’s casting signals a smart audience play. She’s grown up on-screen with viewers who now want rom-coms that aren’t cynical but still have bite. Pairing her with Fodé taps the classic dynamic—pragmatic lead meets polished bachelor—while Orji, Fisher, and the younger ensemble add comic friction and emotional range. If you’re building a date-night movie for streaming, chemistry and rhythm matter as much as plot mechanics.
Thematically, the film pokes at image versus reality—how branding (Paris!) collides with what’s actually on offer (Texas). Netflix knows this tug well: the title and thumbnail promise the fantasy, the story delivers the surprise. The score can underline that reveal without getting cutesy—hinting at romance tropes while letting the setting jokes breathe.
As with most Netflix originals, the release is global, with dubs and subtitles widening reach. That’s where a clear, melodic score helps; it carries emotion across languages. Expect viewers to find it through word-of-mouth, algorithmic placement alongside past rom-com hits, and the built-in audiences for Cosgrove and the supporting cast.
For Lanier, it’s another notch in a filmography that moves easily between dance-infused projects and mainstream narratives. For Janeen Damian and her producing partners, it’s proof that their brand of clean, earnest romance can flex into satire without losing the core appeal. And for Netflix, it’s one more tile on the “play something light” shelf—familiar, inviting, and tuned for a quick emotional payoff.
