Networking, a word that is deliberately vague, is often used as an excuse to get drunk with people whose company one stands to benefit from in one way or another. In the contemporary influencer-driven climate, networking has taken on a new meaning: it's about making videos, right now. It's transactional, a pastime indulged in at parties where people are introduced alongside their social media follower counts. And there is no better setting for this kind of nonsense than the Hollywood Hills, as the fourth episode of I Love LA knows all too well.
"Upstairses," as bold a claim as it may seem, is the most exaggerated the show has been so far. It makes a party full of celebrities feel like a hellscape, and features a surprisingly game Elijah Wood cameoing as a mockery of himself to make the point that influencers haven't just taken over popular culture, but in his case, literally his home.
Maia, Charlie, Alani, and particularly Tallulah have been invited to a party being thrown by Quen Blackwell in Elijah Wood's expansive L.A. home. At first, I thought the namedrop was just for fun, since Blackwell is more the kind of guest star to be at home in a comedy like this. But in a ridiculous set of circumstances, Elijah Wood is indeed present, albeit watching cartoons alone in his bedroom.
Things are going well enough for Tallulah following her takedown of Paulena that she suspects she and Quen might end up becoming best friends overnight, not realizing – or perhaps not wanting to reckon with – Quen's self-serving agenda. She has simply spotted an opportunity, which is the only way the influencer brain seems to be able to process information. Now, granted, Tallulah isn't expecting her "friendship" with Quen to go unnoticed by her many millions of followers, but you can tell her heart isn't in it in the same way.
I Love LA's fourth episode turns out to be a good test for Maia and Tallulah's professional and personal relationship, though. Quen starts testing the former immediately, sowing seeds of doubt around Maia's capabilities and agenda, and Tallulah realizes quickly that Quen doesn't really want to be friends after all. Last week, I mentioned my increasing fascination with Odessa A'zion, and there's a moment here that neatly encapsulates why. It might seem like she was cast solely because she's strikingly beautiful to look at, but when Tallulah has this realization, A'zion wears the internal existential crisis on her face for a split-second before swallowing it to keep playing nice with her host.
"Upstairses" whispers a multitude of insights. Tallulah's disdain isn't merely for Quen's self-centered nature but also for the meticulous control and fabricated facade that permeates every aspect of her life. She finds it impossible to play along long enough to create the grandiose content that Quen craves, and this forces her to reevaluate her own life approach and potential future. Maia, on a quest to become a genuine manager, is confronted with the gritty realities of flesh-pressing and back-scratching deals that Tallulah shies away from at every opportunity. Despite Tallulah's imperfections, her authenticity is captivating, and for the first time, she is forced to confront the idea that being genuine might not be enough.
To be fair, Maia's aspirations are not tarnished by my remarks; it only takes Quen's single dismissal to send Maia and Alani on a personal mission to facilitate a threesome with Elijah Wood. They are not supposed to venture upstairs, but Wood appears content to welcome some company, given his harmless yet deeply quirky persona who desires nothing more than to lounge around watching YouTube clips of cartoons. "Upstairses" indulges him with a few too many quirks for the caricature to be entirely believable—he's a meticulous germaphobe with a goldfish memory who invites Maia and Alani into his "memory palace," instructs them to don robes before sitting on his bed, and then erupts in cartoonish fury when he realizes they are naked beneath them. Yet, it's always delightful when established celebrities embrace the gonzo version of themselves.
The event is a failure for everyone involved, save perhaps Charlie, who hilariously spends the day seething at a handsome man he mistakenly believes to be gay—only to discover he's a TikTok-famous musician. "I'm Catholic!" he exclaims. But the real highlight of the whole affair is that Maia and Tallulah emerge as not quite as shallow as those they attempt to impress. Whether this will limit their success in the industry, however, remains yet to be seen.
