'The Paper' review: This extension of 'The Office' universe is a love letter to print journalism

WHAT IT'S ABOUT Scranton-based Dunder Mifflin (of "The Office," 2005-13) has been sold to a Toledo, Ohio, company called Enervate, which sells office supply paper and (yes) toilet paper too. Now the documentary crew is back once again to film the lives of those at the sad sack Toledo Truth Teller, a once-proud, now diminished newspaper that Enervate also owns. A new editor has joined — Ned Sampson (Domhnall Gleeson) — who must whip the newsroom, such as it is, into shape. He's got his work cut out for him. There's the former editor Esmeralda Grand (Sabrina Impacciatore, Season 2 of "The White Lotus") — a flamboyant former "Bachelor" contestant — who resents the new boss. So does Enervate executive Ken Davies (Tim Key), who'd rather just fold the money-losing rag. Ned needs reporters, so he recruits them from (yes) the adjoining toilet paper division. There is however one staffer — Mare Pritti (Chelsea Frei) — who actually knows what she's doing. Oscar Martinez (Oscar Nuñez) is the lone holdover from the Dunder Mifflin days. He's the head accountant and the wise old man of this hapless crew.

By the way, "enervate" means "drained of vitality." That about fits Enervate.

MY SAY Pity poor beleaguered newspapers. Scattered across the land, making a valiant and possibly futile stand against the encroaching news desert, they've been ravaged by hedge funds, TikTok and apathy. They're staffed with a couple reporters (if that), filled with wire copy, typos, recipes for blueberry muffins and high school softball scores. (They don't even have TV critics, if you can imagine such a thing.)

Pity them, or laugh at them, or wonder what gets them through this dark night of their soul. "The Paper" does — all three — which is remarkable. Or at least laudable. Newspapers deserve a friend. Could "The Paper" be an accidental one?

An extension of "The Office" "universe" — networks don't use the term "reboot" anymore — "The Paper" will immediately be familiar to its millions of fans. The mockumentary signifiers are all here, notably the sardonic side-glances in the direction of an intruding camera, or the genial, empty-headed cluelessness that prompts such glances. And like Steve Carell's Michael Scott or Ed Helms' Andy Bernard, Gleeson's Ned Sampson has the "Office" boss tropes down cold. Most critically, he has heartfelt faith in the tiny kingdom over which he rules — a faith that defies both logic and objective reality.

There is the usual collection of oddballs, misfits and ne'er-do-wells at the sputtering Toledo Truth Teller. Most don't know how to report, or write. A fire rages across the street. No one thinks to check it out.

For them, it's either this job or flipping burgers at McDonalds.

If all this sounds almost too easy, that's because it is. The joke may be old, but at least it's still comfortable and often funny. What makes "The Paper" so special, however, is something else entirely — because this show asks viewers to consider the humble word "paper." At Dunder Mifflin, paper was used for photocopying, at Enervate for newsprint, and various bodily functions. Expand that thought to the great world beyond, and you begin to realize that Western civilization itself has been printed on paper.

But what's paper good for anymore, in this digitized age of social media and doomscrolling — or at least a newspaper? Ned — goofy, bighearted, sincere Ned — thinks he knows. "Print," he says, "is permanent. It's like true love."

Nice line. Maybe this accidental friend — who really does seem to care about that poor beleaguered newspaper, wherever it may be — will turn out to be a genuine one. Heaven knows, we need one.

BOTTOM LINE Does "The Office" proud.