‘Hollywood Arts’ (2026) Netflix Series Review - Nostalgia Doesn't Get You Into the Spotlight

I went into Hollywood Arts with a fairly straightforward question: can a spin-off built around Trina Vega, arguably one of the most ridiculous characters in Victorious, actually sustain a series of its own? The answer is more complicated than I expected, although not necessarily in the way Netflix would have hoped. There is a genuinely appealing idea buried in this revival: a woman who spent years being overlooked, underestimated, and occasionally humiliated returns to the place where she once dreamed of becoming a star, only to discover that she might be better at helping other people realise their potential than pursuing her own. Unfortunately, the execution doesn't always do that idea justice.

Daniella Monet's return is the series' biggest selling point, and I appreciate the willingness to build a sequel around a character who was never the obvious choice. Tori Vega was the protagonist of the original series, while Trina was frequently the source of its most absurd situations. Giving the latter a chance to grow up, confront her failures, and find a different kind of purpose is a more interesting proposition than simply introducing another aspiring singer and pretending the intervening years never happened.

The problem is that Hollywood Arts sometimes struggles to distinguish Trina's entertainingly delusional confidence from a character who has been written without enough depth. Her self-importance was funny in Victorious partly because the show knew how to use her as a supporting character. Here, she has to carry entire episodes. The same exaggerated behaviour that once made her an excellent source of comic disruption can become exhausting when it is expected to sustain the emotional and narrative centre of a series.

Monet commits to the role, and there are moments when her performance reminds me why Trina remains memorable. She understands the character's peculiar combination of ambition, insecurity, and complete inability to recognise how other people perceive her. But the writing doesn't always give her enough to work with beyond the familiar mannerisms. I wanted to see more of the adult Trina: someone who has had years to discover what she is good at, what she has been avoiding and why her ambitions never quite materialised. The series gestures towards that person, but it sometimes seems more interested in preserving the old joke than exploring what has changed.

The students offer the show its best opportunity to move beyond nostalgia. Emmy, Pepper, Jen Z, Qwest and Oscar have different ambitions, insecurities and relationships with performing, and their stories provide a useful counterpoint to Trina's experiences. Alyssa Miles gives Emmy an earnestness that makes her struggle to step out of her older brother's shadow easy to understand. Emmy's technical abilities and creative instincts are particularly welcome in a school where performing arts are not limited to singing and acting. Her development gives Trina a reason to become invested in teaching rather than simply treating the position as another temporary arrangement.

Emmy Liu-Wang is especially entertaining as Pepper. She has the kind of screen presence that makes even an absurd situation feel effortless, and her comic timing helps the show when the writing threatens to become overly familiar. Pepper's friendship and rivalry with Jen Z give the series a recognisable teenage dynamic without making every disagreement feel like a life-changing event. Erika Swayze plays Jen with an ambition and competitiveness that could develop into something more interesting if the series gives her enough room to reveal what lies underneath that carefully managed exterior.

Peyton Jackson also makes a strong impression as Qwest, whose interest in music conflicts with the expectations his family has placed on him. His storyline introduces a familiar but effective tension between pursuing an artistic identity and maintaining the approval of people whose support matters. Martin Kamm's Oscar provides another source of comedy through his confidence and his complicated relationship with his sister. The young cast has enough personality to make the school's next generation worth following, even when the series doesn't give every character equal attention.

The new series occasionally feels too conscious of that responsibility. It wants to be accessible to viewers who have never watched Victorious, while giving longtime fans enough familiar references to justify returning. Those objectives aren't inherently incompatible, but the balance can feel awkward. The new students need to establish their own identities, yet the series must also remind viewers why Hollywood Arts matters. Trina's presence is supposed to bridge those two generations, but she sometimes becomes the very thing preventing the younger characters from taking centre stage.

The returning cast members are used sparingly. Matt Bennett reprises Robbie Shapiro, while Yvette Nicole Brown returns as Principal Helen and Eric Lange appears as Erwin Sikowitz. Their appearances are welcome, particularly for viewers who spent years with the original characters, but the series wisely cannot depend entirely on familiar faces. Robbie's return is especially enjoyable because it offers a glimpse of how one of the original students has matured. I would have liked more of him, although I understand the need to establish the new ensemble.

And yes, Tori's absence is noticeable. Victoria Justice does not appear in the first season, even though her character remains an important presence in the school's history. The references to Tori are enough to establish what she has achieved since the original series, but they also underline how much the spin-off is relying on the audience's memories of a show whose central cast is largely elsewhere. I don't need every original character to return, but the new series has to make its own emotional investment worthwhile rather than treating nostalgia as a substitute for it.

The music presents another challenge. A performing arts school should naturally feature songs, rehearsals and performances, and the series has an original soundtrack designed to introduce its young cast. The problem is that the musical numbers don't consistently feel integrated into the storytelling. Sometimes they reveal something about a character's ambitions or emotional state; at other times, they seem to interrupt the narrative so the show can demonstrate that its cast can perform.

This is particularly frustrating because the premise offers so many opportunities to explore the relationship between artistic talent and the desire for recognition. Not every talented student is ready for the spotlight, and not everyone who wants to be famous has the ability or temperament to handle it. A show about young performers could say something interesting about rejection, competition, creative insecurity, and the difference between wanting attention and having something meaningful to express. Hollywood Arts touches on those themes, but I wanted more consistency and depth.

The comedy is similarly uneven. Some of the show's more eccentric moments capture the spirit of the original, and the cast is capable of selling situations that would look ridiculous on paper. Other jokes feel as though they are relying on volume, exaggerated reactions, or the assumption that a character behaving strangely is automatically funny. Trina's antics are the clearest example. Her absurdity is part of her appeal, but the series needs to know when to let her be ridiculous and when to allow her to be a person.

That distinction matters because Trina's potential growth is the most interesting aspect of the entire spin-off. A former student who never achieved the success she expected could become a surprisingly effective mentor precisely because she understands disappointment. She knows what it feels like to be overlooked, to confuse confidence with ability and to build an identity around a dream that may never come true. Helping someone else avoid those mistakes could give her a meaningful second act. The series is strongest when it allows that possibility to emerge naturally, rather than treating teaching as another temporary detour in Trina's quest for fame.

I don't think Hollywood Arts is a complete failure. The younger cast has promise, Monet brings recognisable energy to a character she has played for years, and the idea of exploring the original show's world from the perspective of a former student who never quite made it is genuinely worthwhile. There are enough good ideas here to support a stronger series. But the first season too often confuses the presence of those ideas with their successful execution.

Ultimately, Hollywood Arts is an uneven return to a familiar fictional school. It has a worthwhile central character, a promising young ensemble and a premise that could support more substantial storytelling about ambition, failure and artistic identity. What it lacks, at least in this first season, is the consistent writing and comic rhythm required to make those elements work together. I don't regret revisiting Hollywood Arts, but I also don't think the series has earned the same affection I have for its predecessor. Trina deserves a second chance, and the new students deserve the opportunity to become more than replacements for characters we already know. The next season, if it happens, needs to trust both of them enough to move forward.

Final Score- [6/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times