'Euphoria' Season 3 Review
Image Source: Alpha Coders
“May God bless us all.”
In 2019, HBO went through a transition period. Many wondered if the network would ever find a series that could become as much of a cultural tour de force as Game of Thrones did. And about a month after its series finale aired, they found it. Euphoria quickly made an impression on critics and audiences alike in a way nobody was expecting. Based on an Israeli teen drama miniseries of the same name, Euphoria captivated viewers and critics with its eye-catching visuals, relatable characters, film-level direction, themes, and Labrinth’s beautiful musical score. The series stood out in a decade that became consumed by horror stories, superheroes, franchise revivals, and shows aimed at young people that were too afraid to take risks. Euphoria was creator’s Sam Levinson’s signal that he was a singular visionary to be reckoned with. The directorial efforts of Augustine Frizzell, Jennifer Morrison, and Pippa Bianco cannot be ignored either, as they helped Levinson bring in the show’s now iconic and influential visual style, inspired heavily by the work of acclaimed photographer Petra Collins. The series was not only a stepping stone for Sam Levinson as a creative, but was also audience’s introduction to its menagerie of young talent (I say young even though all the principal actors are around the same age as me). Euphoria jump-started Zendaya’s path to post-Disney Channel superstardom and served as a breakout moment for Jacob Elordi, Hunter Schafer, Sydney Sweeney, Maude Apatow, Alexa Demie, Barbie Ferreira, Colman Domingo, and Austin Abrams.
Zendaya became a major player in the Dune franchise and the Marvel Cinematic Universe and delivered acclaimed lead performances in Malcolm & Marie (which was written and directed by Sam Levinson) and Challengers. Sydney Sweeney has kept herself the most busy, with major studio films such as Anyone, But You, and The Housemaid, and smaller films like Immaculate and Christy. Jacob Elordi found himself working with acclaimed auteur filmmakers such as Sofia Coppola (Priscilla), Emerald Fennell (Saltburn), and Guillermo del Toro (Frankenstein). Colman Domingo has since earned two Oscar nominations for Best Actor (for Rustin’ and Sing Sing), concluded his 8-year stint as Victor Strand on Fear the Walking Dead, earned a Tony nomination, and has become one of Hollywood’s most reliable leading men. Hunter Schafer’s acting career hasn’t quite reached the same heights, which speaks to the larger issue of trans women struggling to find work in our current political climate. Regardless, Schafer has found some work and even dipped her toes in directing music videos. Due to the cast’s busy schedules, season 3 of Euphoria took way longer than it should have to get in front of cameras, let alone to air. Even Sam Levinson kept himself busy with the ill-fated HBO drama series The Idol. Finally, after 4 years of waiting, Euphoria has returned for its third and final season. Let’s not beat around the bush here; this season is an unmitigated disaster.
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Image Source: Variety
Even with the criticisms the show has already received throughout its run, you can at least say Euphoria had a point in its first two seasons. While its handling of themes of mental health, addiction, and sexuality may not have always been perfect, you can’t say Sam Levinson didn’t try. Due to the increased age of the cast (all of whom are close to 30), season 3 moves away from high school in favor of multiple storylines that don’t really have anything to do with each other. All these concurrent storylines have Sam Levinson doing pastiches of shows and films from other (and frankly, more talented) filmmakers. Rue’s neo-western storyline involving new antagonist Alamo Brown (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje) is cut from the same cloth as the works of Quentin Tarantino, the Coen Brothers, Vince Gilligan, and Taylor Sheridan. Cassie’s arc involving her booming OnlyFans career are giving Sean Baker vibes in the worst ways possible. Scenes involving Lexi (Maude Apatow) remind me a lot of scenes in Damien Chazelle’s Babylon, only without Chazelle’s sense of humor, style, or sense of ambition. In the series finale, many scenes felt like they were reminiscent of the works of Michael Mann, Christopher Nolan, and even Jordan Peele. Season 3 is one big hodge-podge of genres and tones that don’t connect. It really does feel like, after The Idol failed, Levinson just threw every idea he’s had for a future show or film into Euphoria for the sole reason that he needed season 3 to be about SOMETHING.
Gone are the Petra Collins-inspired visuals of seasons 1 and 2. The sweeping camera movements, the engaging cinematography, and Levinson’s sense of style are completely absent here. Gone are thoughtful and engaging storylines about everyday problems as they’re replaced by scenes of constant screaming and cursing, gratuitous violence, and never-ending reminders that Sydney Sweeney has big boobs. If you ever felt the first two seasons objectified the women, wait until you have to sit through a fantasy sequence of Cassie Howard turning into a giant and killing a tiny businessman with her massive breasts. And most noticeably, gone is Labrinth’s highly essential musical score as he was replaced by Hans Zimmer. Love him or hate him, Hans Zimmer has more than earned his place as one of the greatest film composers of all time. However, this show is not his best work. A handful of cues are pretty decent, but the rest of the time it feels like Zimmer is asleep at the wheel. Many cues sound like he took unused demos from his scores for Rain Man, Inception, The Lone Ranger, and Dune and called it a day. The music that plays in the show’s final scene (which sounds like he listened to John Williams’ score for Saving Private Ryan the night before) was particularly egregious. The score does not combat the sentiment that he’s no longer operating on the same level he was a decade ago when he was Christopher Nolan’s regular composer. I’d argue even a year ago because his score for F1 was better than anything he wrote for this show.
Image Source: Allure
The most positive aspect this scene lies in the performances of the actors. Zendaya continues to bring it as Rue, proving to audiences why she won two Emmys for playing this part. Rue’s sense of determination, humanity, and loneliness is still here and it’s almost entirely because Zendaya is good at her job. Due to a handful of bad PR nightmares, Sydney Sweeney is nobody’s favorite actress at the moment. While I feel a lot of the cultural criticism aimed towards her is mostly justified, I do not subscribe to the idea that she can’t act. Sweeney is good here, with a standout moment being a very memorable delivery of the line “What does that have to do with me?” Colman Domingo is Colman Domingo and Colman Domingo is always great cause he’s Colman Domingo. Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje’s performance as Alamo Brown provides the season with a decent amount of menace, even if his dialogue is often cliché. Alexa Demie wasn’t the strongest performer in the first two seasons as Maddie, nor was Maude Apatow as Lexi, but they’re fine here. The best performer besides Zendaya and Domingo comes in the form of Darrell Britt-Gibson as Bishop. Alamo Brown’s right-hand man, Bishop leaves a massive impression despite not saying much, almost acting like the season’s equivalent to characters such as Clint Eastwood’s The Man with No Name or Boba Fett. A standout scene involving Maddie and Bishop in a car was a breath of fresh air. Not just because Demie and Britt-Gibson’s performances are engaging, but it was a nice reminder that Sam Levinson is still capable of writing his characters like normal human beings.
Jacob Elordi, however, is not particularly good this season. Almost all of this falls on Sam Levinson, giving Nate Jacobs nothing interesting to do. Elordi spends most of his time with Sydney Sweeney, but it’s painful to say that Sweeney out-acts Elordi in every scene they share. Seeing Elordi be given nothing to work with, just a few months after seeing his Oscar-nominated performance in Frankenstein, gives off the same vibe of seeing Eddie Murphy humiliate himself in Norbit following his Oscar-nominated performance in Dreamgirls. Elordi is given such a nothing-burger of a role that it makes me hopeJames Gunn, Peter Safran, and Andy Muschietti cast him as the DCU Batman out of pure pity. As far as the worst acting performances are concerned, Chloe Cherry as returning character Faye Valentine and Toby Wallace as newcomer Wayne are given far too much screen time for characters who aren’t interesting and played by actors who aren’t good at acting.
Image Source: Time Magazine
But nobody, and I mean nobody, gets the shit end of the stick (pardon my language) more than Hunter Schafer as Jules. The first sign of trouble was Jules not having a single line of dialogue in the first trailer and she wasn’t mentioned outside of a quick exclamation that she is now someone’s “Sugar Baby.” Further trouble arrived when Jules didn’t even have a line in the first episode. And naturally, Jules is no longer a main character; she’s a prop with no agency. Jules is here, and she’s here to be mad, be mistreated, be abusive, and do nothing of value. If you think Sam Levinson puts any effort into rekindling the romance between Rue and Jules, prepare to be disappointed. Instead, Levinson takes a machete to the relationship that once defined the show and destroys it beyond repair. Jules’ non-existent storyline as a struggling artist who needs to rely on a chaser sugar daddy is as insulting as it is infuriating. You would think Levinson would have some sort of thoughtful storyline about Jules struggling to live life on her own in a world that is incredibly cruel to trans women. Nope! She hurts Rue, gets her bag, nearly costs Lexi her job on a TV show, and then just disappears. Mind you, Jules was Euphoria’s second main protagonist once upon a time.
As a trans woman myself, especially a trans woman who loves, writes, and finds comfort in film and television, it is heartbreaking to see a character who provided a sense of hope for so many of us when transition felt out of reach during the pandemic be resorted to a sexy lamp. Jules isn’t three-dimensional anymore. She’s not relatable, she’s not compelling, she’s not interesting, she’s just here to be crazy and treat Rue like garbage. There is something sinister seeing the only trans woman character in a mainstream television series right now have her last moments with her girlfriend involve hitting her in the face for insulting her. Every episode I kept hoping Jules would have something to do and it never came. Being a trans woman right now means you will be prevented from finding employment, stable housing, meaningful friendships, creative opportunities, or a general sense of safety. Even our own community isn’t particularly fond of us right now. I‘m not accusing Sam Levinson of succumbing to societal pressures and intentionally minimizing Jules’ role to avoid backlash from people who hate trans women. But at the same time, would you blame me if I did? The amount of hurt, frustration, and confusion I felt watching Jules slip away from the main narrative can’t be put into words. It really says so much that a Black woman, a trans woman, and their romance can be the main focus of a TV series, only for both characters to not matter in the series finale. To see Rue and Jules be shafted in favor of male characters stuck in a bad Tarantino movie is a special kind of upsetting.
Image Source: TV Insider
It brings me no joy to say that Euphoria ended not with a bang, but with a whimper. A messy, tonally inconsistent, unsexy, boring whimper. I didn’t tune in to hate-watch, I tuned in hoping The Idol was just a fluke. As someone who enjoys Sam Levinson’s criminally underrated feature Assassination Nation, loves the first two seasons of Euphoria, and didn’t even hate Malcolm & Marie, it pains me to say that Sam Levinson has become a parody of himself. He’s clearly bought into his own hype in a way that started to shine through with The Idol. While Euphoria season 3 doesn’t fall as deep into Levinson’s black hole of artistic hubris as The Idol did, it still doesn’t have its head above water. Or if you watched this season, above sand.
What was once a series that was different from anything else on television has turned into Sam Levinson hopping into the bodies of filmmakers who are all better at making art than he is. You don’t get Sam Levinson trying to make a point, you get gun showdowns and girls swallowing fentanyl-filled balloons. You don’t get thoughtful commentary about addiction and sexuality; you get Jules’ final scene involving painting a canvas in her bra and underwear without a single line of dialogue. You don’t get Labrinth’s otherworldly score, you get Hans Zimmer reheating his own nachos for 8 episodes in a row. You don’t get style, you get Lexi acting as an unsubtle stand-in for the show’s detractors as she goes on and on with prudish whine-fests about how icky sex and sex work are. You don’t get relatable characters that make you feel something; you get to see Sydney Sweeney’s breasts jiggle up and down for what I can only assume is solely for Levinson’s own personal amusement. What could’ve gone down as a flawed, but still well-made, series about real-life problems, concludes as Breaking Bad for dummies. We’re left with a show that we can only pray doesn’t affect Zendaya, Elordi, and Schafer’s careers in the long run. We’re left with a series that doesn’t inspire anything resembling faith or confidence in what Sam Levinson does next. That’s if anyone is foolish enough to give him this much money and this big of an artistic canvas ever again.
Rating: 4/10
All 3 seasons of Euphoria are now streaming on HBO Max.
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