When Greg Daniels announced a new mockumentary set in the same universe as The Office, expectations soared. Now that The Paper has landed on Peacock, fans finally get to see what the documentary crew behind Dunder Mifflin is up to, this time following a historic Midwestern newspaper, The Toledo Truth-Teller, and its attempt at revival. The result is a mix of familiar laughs, uneven storytelling, and a show that is easy to put on in the background but struggles to find its own identity.
The pilot makes clever use of archival-style 1971 footage to anchor the newspaper’s legacy, but beyond the nostalgia, the series opens shakily. Chelsea Frei’s Mare, ostensibly the lead, doesn’t leave much of an impression early on, and Tim Key’s Ken feels a lot like Michael Scott but is underutilized. On the other hand, Eric Rahill as Travis brings chaotic, Kenny Powers-style energy, and Alex Edelman’s Adam quickly emerges as one of the funniest characters with his random, unfiltered one-liners.
Episode two starts stronger, leaning into the ensemble’s chemistry, though it distracts itself with a cameo from Oscar Nuñez that feels more like connective tissue than necessity. Still, Duane R. Shepard Sr. channels Stanley Hudson with laid-back charm, and side characters keep things watchable even when the story meanders.
Like The Office or Abbott Elementary, The Paper occasionally spins everyday minutiae into absurd comedy. A storyline about mattress branding in episode three feels straight out of Daniels’ playbook, while later episodes play with gags about newspapers versus blogs and even drop a few Lost references, including Josh Holloway showing up. These pop culture detours are funny but sometimes feel like filler, leaving the bigger arcs undercooked.
What narrative momentum exists mostly comes from the slow-burning romance between Melvin Gregg’s Detrick and Ramona Young’s Nicole, along with Domhnall Gleeson’s Ned developing feelings for Mare. Gleeson, as the new editor-in-chief, is a highlight whenever the show leans into his neurotic, driven energy, especially in episode eight, where his over-the-top sales pitch recalls Leonardo DiCaprio in The Wolf of Wall Street. Still, the will-they-won’t-they romance between Ned and Mare doesn’t pack the emotional punch the writers clearly hoped for, particularly when it finally surfaces in the finale.
Stylistically, The Paper carries all the trademarks of Daniels’ earlier work, including confessional interviews, awkward silences, and ensemble-driven chaos. The intro cleverly riffs on all the non-reading uses of newspapers (wrapping gifts, lining pet cages), and even the closing credits sneak in some of the show’s best jokes. But while The Office had Jim, Pam, Dwight, and Michael to anchor its absurdity with genuine heart, The Paper has not yet found its Dwight. Side characters hint at greatness, such as Ken, Esmeralda, and even the warehouse staff, but they rarely get the spotlight.
The season builds momentum toward its last few episodes, particularly with the introduction of Marv, the paper’s big boss, who finally injects some authority and comedic weight. Just as things start to gel, however, the finale stumbles. Threads feel rushed, storylines cut off, and while we get a Pam and Jim-style payoff, it does not resonate the way it should.
Ultimately, The Paper is a decent watch, bingeable, light, and intermittently funny, but it has not yet carved out a reason to exist beyond reminding viewers of The Office. Daniels and Koman clearly know how to build this kind of world, and the potential is there if the ensemble is given more space to breathe. For now, it works better as background comfort than must-see comedy, though it may find its footing in a second season.
Jessie Hobson