Sam Levinson’s ‘Euphoria’ Is Reduced To Pretty Pictures With Ugly Details in Uncertain Third Season

Alci Rengifo

Growing up is sometimes the least exciting part of most long stories. Now devoid of its youthful impulses and high school hallways, Sam Levinson’s “Euphoria” returns both exuberant and confused. When the series premiered in 2019, it made its mark as a provocative portrait of Gen Z and suburbia’s underbelly. It launched several young stars into instant name recognition, helping establish Zendaya in particular as a pop culture figure. Four years since season two and everyone is pretty much grown up and stuck in the uncertain dullness of “adulting.” The characters and showrunner are now certainly fused as one, with their actions echoing a writer/director also grappling with where any of this should go. There is also a palpable desperation to remain “edgy” at a time when some of its shocks don’t hit as hard anymore. 

What the show does instantly pack in its return is a majestic visual style. Levinson reportedly filmed the season in 65mm and 35mm stock, which is evident in the opening scenes of the season premiere. In a wide, arid landscape we find Rue (Zendaya) making her way through the Chihuahua desert for the U.S.-Mexico border. We last saw her as a relapsed drug addict in high school. We learn that crime boss Laurie (Martha Kelly) tracked her down soon afterwards to start charging for a major debt Rue owes after losing a big stash. Clearly not able to pay, Rue has become a drug mule, with everything that entails. After coming across a secluded conservative Christian family near El Paso, which leaves a mark on Rue, she makes her way back to Los Angeles. In the city we get updates on other key characters. Lexi (Maude Apatow) now works for the producer of a nighttime soap, Patty Lance (Sharon Stone), slyly making herself useful by giving essential notes on set. Maddy (Alexa Demie) works for the agent of the show’s main star. Over in sunny suburbia, Nate (Jacob Elordi) has taken over his father’s construction business and lives with his fiancé and Lexi’s sister, Cassie (Sydney Sweeney). While Nate tries to keep the business afloat, Cassie hungers for internet stardom, or at least monetization. She wants to spend $50,000 on flowers for the upcoming wedding. Nate is completely against it, which is the perfect time for Cassie to propose she open an OnlyFans account.

There’s plenty of weight already on the shoulders of this season. Gossip abounds of rifts between the cast and a reportedly difficult Levinson. Even music artist Labrinth walked away after claiming to have been ill-treated. Famed film composer Hans Zimmer now steps in. The creator also has to make us all forget the disaster that was his last HBO series, “The Idol,” which killed any chances for the Weeknd to be taken seriously as a TV lead. The first hour of season three does not constitute any sort of comeback. It could be that Levinson has strayed from what truly fuels his creative flow, that being contemporary youth culture and its connection to American toxicity. Levinson’s best work remains the first, focused season of “Euphoria” and the underrated 2018 satirical feature, “Assassination Nation,” both colorfully wild dissections of suburbia. When he gets away into projects like “The Idol,” the pretentious Netflix movie “Malcolm & Marie,” and now this neo-western revamp of “Euphoria,” the sensuous images are left without much to say.

What can be quite entertaining is Levinson living out his indulgences and impulses, even if they are mired in clichés. Rue recounting her drug runs through Mexico includes sights all too familiar to anyone who’s seen a few crime thrillers (yes, there’s the token, bald Mexican with a scar). She is made to swallow many, tightly-sealed drug packets. Tired of doing it alone, Rue brings in Faye (Chloe Cherry), from the old circle belonging to Fez, so memorably played by the late Angus Cloud (turns out Fez is serving 30 years). Levinson’s brand of crude humor kicks in with the girls desperate to go to the bathroom after crossing the border. Later, while discussing God with sponsor Ali (Colman Domingo, woefully underused), a whole debate emerges on “butt sex” as condemned in the Bible. Much of it feels like vignettes in a “where are they now” feel, especially since, at least this early in the season, not much happens with everyone aside from Rue. Zendaya helps create that perception with a strong performance where she again displays a quickness mixed with uncertainty, even fear. 

The weaker roles belong to Jacob Elordi and Sydney Sweeney. Again showing off her genes, Sweeney’s Cassie is reduced to an even more shallow level. She lazily discusses the merits of OnlyFans by the pool, not even having the energy to pressure or argue with Nate as in last season, when they were seeing each other behind Maddy’s back. Maybe Levinson purposefully wants to turn them into boring suburbanites, where the edgiest they get is Cassie having the maid film her with dog ears and a tail to make saucy content. Later we may discover the state of Nate’s father, Cal (the late Eric Dane in his last role), but for now, the jock has become a stressed out, upper middle class guy worrying about taxes and environmental check-ups on an important project. Levinson also seems to have clung to the idea of “write what you know” for Lexi’s storyline, which is another yawning take on the Hollywood assistant trying to move up the ladder. One has to wonder if an AI angle will be thrown in later.

Rue is the deeper character with the more defined journey. Eternally chaotic, trapped by her choices, Rue at least keeps us wanting to ponder her fate. Laurie sends her to deliver drugs to another big shot, Alamo (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje), at one of those lavish homes Los Angeles denizens always see glistening up in the surrounding hills. It is a total party scene and Rue gets dizzy with desire for all the attractive, half-naked women surrounding Alamo as he relaxes in a hot tub. Her survival instincts always working, the younger woman basically begs for a job when Alamo describes the strip clubs he operates. Rue’s reasoning is that maybe God has brought them together. Then, the stash she brought over turns out to have been compromised, laced with fentanyl. What follows is a surreal moment where Rue faces death when Alamo decides to do his own version of a coin flip, by firing at a green apple atop her head with a golden gun. It is a memorable scene in a show that is starting to lose its grip. “Euphoria” used to have much to say about who we are. Now, it threatens to feel speechless.

“Euphoria” season three premieres April 12 with new episodes airing Sundays at 9 p.m. ET on HBO and streaming on HBO Max.