For a series where Vera Farmiga
creates perfume by wrapping a used jock strap around her face and Ewan McGregor
screams “Get it, Sassy!” at his starry-eyed assistant when the office runs low on cocaine, the most surprising aspect of “Halston” is how ordinary it feels. Told in less time than the last “Lord of the Rings
,” Ryan Murphy
’s latest prestige limited series is light on conflict, high on privilege, and barely reaches into its titular lead’s background to unearth meaningful drama. Instead, it just coasts along on Ewan McGregor’s considerable charms, lush craft work now-standard to the mega-producer’s projects, and a broad biopic template so well-worn it slides on too easily, like an old coat that you had thought was new.
Still, this isn’t “Ratched.” There’s a bit of thought behind “Halston,” and even better, there’s a wistful regret driving its incrementally more interesting second half.