When you get big, you become a convenient target. When you're successful, there will be just as many people eager to tear you down as those who want to ride on your coattails.
And when you inevitably falter, as even the once-infallible Pixar Studios did, better get out that body armour because that's when the knives really come out, all gleaming and sharpened.
So now we have The Franchise, a supposedly satirical and funny look at, well, franchise moviemaking of the kind that involves blockbuster movies, shared universes, tightly managed cross-continuity, and zealously policed cast and crew behaviour.
You know the target, of course: the currently stumbling rhymes-with-Larval-Aromatic-Shepherds-Purse (please indulge me). Well, to a loose extent, possibly the rhymes-with-Dissy-Ee-You as well. What, too soon? Sorry, Aquaman fans.
As a self-avowed Marvel Zombie, parts of this show – did I mention it's a satirical comedy already? – seemed to me to be unyieldingly cruel, and a little fraternally sycophantic towards the cinematic titans who have condemned the MCU (oops) and its incredible success.
And still, some bits ring true – like Katherine Waterston's uncertain actress, thrust into the role of a non-canonically empowered comic character in the (unspoken) name of rhymes-with-broke and rhymes-with-inutility.
Waterston's turn, in an almost wistful way, immediately brings to mind the fan backlash against a certain Oscar-winner playing a certain cosmic superhero.
So what's this eight-part lark all about? So far, it has taken place largely on and around the set of Tecto: Eye Of The Storm, an "unloved" part of a huge superhero cinematic universe where other movies are the favoured tentpoles.
Arthouse-minded director Eric (Daniel Bruhl, charmingly and amusingly trapped in a completely different universe in his mind) is nominally at the helm, but it's the studio chiefs and money people calling the shots – sometimes by proxy, rarely in person, and often through trickle-down gossip.
His petulant cast includes thespian Peter (Richard E. Grant, simply a delight even in the end credit scenes), upset at being relegated to No. 2 on the call sheet; and the egotistical Adam (Road House's Billy Magnussen, hilariously plagued by self-doubt and other... hindrances) as the titular Tecto.
The script gets changed on the fly, budgets are arbitrarily slashed, producers come and go – and holding it all together is Daniel (Himesh Patel, Yesterday), the first assistant director and also the series' harried heart.
Created by Succession alumnus Jon Brown and written by Armando Ianucci (Veep, Avenue 5), The Franchise seems to skewer not just franchise moviemaking but, frequently, everything about the craft of cinema.
It's hard to reconcile the near-universal disregard for human connections and humanity on show here with the many positive stories coming out not just about the MCU but movie sets in general. For every nightmare tale, there are dozens more of camaraderie and affirmation.
But yep, let's bear in mind that all this is being done in the name of satire, with maybe a wee bit of franchise envy.
So far it's only thanks to Patel's success at giving us a human anchor – resigned gaze, slumped shoulders and all – that we are not swept away (and turned off completely) by the wave of bile and ruthlessness.
As unsubtle and unmerciful as The Franchise is, it does have its (supremely) funny moments, much of the credit here due to Grant, a.k.a. Classic Loki.
It's a little too early in the run to pronounce final Arishem-the-Celestial-level judgment on the show, but suffice it to say that I'm thankful it only comes to us in small doses at a time.
Like that monthly comic book in your pull list that you just tolerate but have to read, as a completist.
New episodes of The Franchise arrive on HBO (Astro Ch 411/ Unifi TV Ch 401) every Monday.
Summary:
6.5