In the early episodes, at least, Geneviève and Jack aren’t quite as compelling as the show needs them to be. Sherman-Palladino/Palladino shows are known for their distinctive dialogue — everyone speaks in reference-heavy, high-speed, discursive yet zesty turns of phrase. You are either sold on this style, or you’ve tuned in to their new show by mistake.

But these two characters are heavy hitters: Jack is the executive director of the Metropolitan Ballet Theatre, and Geneviève the interim general director of l’Opera Français and le Ballet National. When they offer up the trademark Sherman/Palladino patter, their bumbling verbal miscues don’t quite ring true. Take it from an arts editor: the directors of nationally renowned artistic companies cannot give rambling, incoherent monologues on live television about the physical attractiveness of the dancers they manage without getting swiftly fired.

As the episodes dragged on, I began to feel I was about to give a bad review to the new Sherman-Palladino show. Jack and Geneviève were frustratingly thin as characters. Was I supposed to think they were bad at their jobs? Jack: a cad? Geneviève: entirely discombobulated by the people management her role requires?

It’s a very dense show, too. There is an awful lot of setup here about the swapped creative types and what their whole deal is. New York gets Cheyenne (Lou de Laâge), the world’s greatest dancer. Paris gets Tobias (Gideon Glick), a hotshot choreographer, and the return of the prodigal Mishi (Taïs Vinolo), a culture minister’s daughter who was cut from the ballet school in Paris as a youth but succeeded in New York. Mishi is innocent and sheltered; Tobias and Cheyenne are freaks in the trademark Sherman-Palladino vein (this is a compliment; they are both descendants of Paris Geller).

In episode four, we finally get some dance payoff. Though the show is foremost and explicitly about the magic of producing ballet, we don’t get to see these geniuses produce much ballet until that fourth episode, at which point the show finally figures out what it’s doing: focusing on Cheyenne. Yes, yes, and Mishi and Tobias too, but Cheyenne is the one who ultimately ends up as a third, and far more interesting, protagonist.

Geneviève is outraged when Jack claims Cheyenne in their big swap. She’s the most famous dancer in the world, and a massive marketing draw for whichever company employs her. Jack promptly puts her face on every poster for the MBT. She’s introduced, heavy-handedly, abusing a crew of environmental protesters on a boat (the less said about this show’s efforts to engage in current events, the better — every time it happens, you can practically see the sweat). We’re told she’s impossible to work with, frequently arrested, cruel.

But in practice, once in New York, she’s immediately engaged in the business of the company, recruiting a talented but flaky dancer to return to the fold, and boosting the fortunes of a girl who has been practicing in the studio at night while her mother cleans the building. Sure, she’s kind of a blunt jerk, but the show’s sympathies are very much with her — usually, she’s right, and her uncompromising pursuit of what ballet should be proves far more engrossing than Jack and Geneviève stammering through business meetings.

Tobias and Mishi take longer to pay off, narratively, and the threads around Tobias and his growing bond with a talented but reckless Parisian dancer, Gabin (Ivan du Pontavice), meander through some pained comic setpieces. The cast is too large, and the plotting is diffuse, sometimes distractingly, and sometimes effectively — there are reminders here of the courage “Bunheads” had to let plotlines end without a satisfying resolution, as happens in real life all too often.

There’s a villain, so to speak, in Crispin Shamblee, the wealthy but amoral ballet aficionado who offers a Faustian bargain to fund the big swap endeavor in return for access to both companies. He’s played with mustache-twirling glee by Simon Callow (you might remember him as the charming older lover of John Hannah’s character in “Four Weddings and a Funeral”). Callow is doing his best, but Shamblee’s various contretemps with Jack and Geneviève can be a bit one-note. He’s sinister and uses money and power to get his way, and they’re stuck with him.

It’s become a bit of a cliche to say “it gets good, but you have to make it through a few episodes first.” So I apologize for this, but: it does in fact get good. I had a moment of surprise in the latter stretch of the season when I realized how strongly I had pivoted from dutiful viewing to caring very much what was going to happen to all of these people. Well, maybe not Crispin. But within the realm of shows you might consider applying some grace and patience to, “Étoile” is a worthy candidate. As the show itself might argue, sometimes it takes a little workshopping to make good art.

ÉTOILE

Starring: Charlotte Gainsbourg, Luke Kirby, Lou de Laâge, Gideon Glick, Taïs Vinolo, Simon Callow. On Prime Video

Lisa Weidenfeld can be reached at lisa.weidenfeld@globe.com. Follow her on X @LisaWeidenfeld and Instagram @lisaweidenfeld.