The White Lotus Season 3 spoilers incoming…
Welcome to ‘Showtime with Emily Maddick’, in which GLAMOUR's Assistant Editor and Entertainment Director brings a unique perspective to the month's most hyped film or TV show. For February’s instalment, Emily reviews one of the most anticipated TV shows of the year: The White Lotus, Season 3. And while some of season 3 isn't quite as good as the previous two, one thing the writers have succeeded at is accurately portraying the often toxic power dynamics at play in long-standing female friendships. And it's a lesson to us all.
Oh no! Has The White Lotus lost its edge? Has the subtly scathing, satirical brilliance of the first two seasons lost its bite in season three? These were the thoughts that kept returning to me as I started watching the first episodes of the new series of one of the most (deservedly) hyped shows on TV.
Yes, Mike White’s Emmy and Golden Globe grabbing HBO juggernaut is back for its third season, this time taking the action to Thailand. And while the previous two seasons, first in Hawaii and then Sicily, undeniably had different vibes to them, both were united in their lacerating writing, expertly executed performances all infused with a subtle ‘state of the nation’ take on moneyed, white America.
For those who have not devoured The White Lotus, the premise for each season is simple: a dead body is found washed up at an outpost of one the world’s most exclusive hotels, The White Lotus. The action then rewinds seven days and we get to know the guests and the staff of the luxury resort, all the while wondering who’ll get it and whodunnit.
It’s a formula that costs an estimated $3.5million dollars an episode, pulling in over 10million viewers an episode in season 1, when it became a legendary lockdown binge in 2021. But has it all become too formulaic?
This season (I have only watched 6 of 8 episodes) takes a while to get going.
The first couple of episodes seem flat and slow-paced with the characters too predictably unlikable. There’s no real laugh out loud moments from the writing, nor from the performances. Victoria Ratliffe (Parker Posey) wife of Texan financier, Timothy (Jason Isaacs) is so jacked up on lorazepam, that we’re unsure as to whether her slurred drawl is the prescription meds or pure Texan. She sounds laboured and hammy and alas, she comes across as a poor tribute act to Jennifer Coolidge’s fan favourite, Tanya McQuoid (RIP).
Clear your calendars for February 2025.
Whereas the first two seasons’ writing deftly tightrope-walks conveying the entitlement of the one-percenter guests with their internal struggles and ambitions, so that we feel emotionally invested to some degree, this season they’re just plain awful.
I adore Aimee Lou Wood in Sex Education. But in The White Lotus as Chelsea, the wide-eyed, hippy chick girlfriend of the grizzly, tormented and toxic Rick (Walton Goggins), she is a bit too goofy. There’s also a distinct lack of chemistry between the pair.
Then there’s the staff’s storylines - or lack of them. Fans may be eager to see Lisa from South Korean mega band, BlackPink in her acting debut as resort manager, Mook, but the script leaves her with little to work with. The same goes for her love interest, security guard, Gaitok (Tayme Thapthimthong), who despite getting caught up in a lot of gun drama, comes across as wooden.
Where is the pathos of the acid-tongued, closeted lesbian hotel manager Valentina from Sicily? Where is the desperation of the rictus-grinned, insincere and perma-sweating deviant GM, Armond in Hawaii?
Of course, everyone has heard of second album syndrome and Mike White has clearly set the bar impossibly high for himself with series one and two. And it is also important to state that despite all these niggles, this season is still exceedingly watchable and utterly gorgeous telly.
And by episode 5, I am pleased to report that the action - and writing - really does pick up.
One review of season 1 in The Guardian which heralded it, ‘The Best Show of 2021,' praised the show’s power at making the viewer feel uncomfortable.
“The White Lotus, takes us closer to, rather than further away from, the many problems that so many of us have been grappling with," wrote the critic Benjamin Lee. “Sipping cocktails by the pool and learning to scuba-dive are soon replaced with uneasy discussions about race, consent and privilege, with no one let off the hook, including us.”
And while this season doesn’t seem to deliver to quite the same levels, there was one storyline that most certainly made for uncomfortable watching.
Because for me, the stand out characters of season three are the old school friends Kate, (Leslie Bibb) Jaclyn (Michelle Monghan) and Laurie (Carrie Coon). The 40-something trio have been reunited from different corners of the States for a girly reunion all paid for by Jaclyn, who is now a famous TV actress, living in Los Angeles with a husband ten years her junior. Laurie is a New York lawyer and single Mum, Kate a Texan housewife who may or may not have voted for Trump.
“We’ve still got it” is the battle cry of these Pilates (and no doubt Ozempic) honed, aesthetically tweaked blondes as they guzzle rose and ogle and flirt with their Russian wellness butler, Valentin, (Arnas Fedaravicius). But rapidly the cracks begin to show and Thailand isn’t quite the dreamy trip down memory lane, solidarity of sisterhood vacay they planned for.
For the old rivalries and tensions that have simmered since their school days, still linger. Tensions and rivalries that are exacerbated by age, ambition, careers, kids, no kids, marriage, divorce and all the rest that life hurls at you by the time you reach middle age. Add their individual varying levels of entitlement and unsurprisingly all these tensions boil over into backstabbing and betrayal, but all delivered in ways that only long-term friends can.
Take this excerpt of dialogue from episode two, between Kate and Laurie, onto the third bottle of wine back in their villa after dinner, after Jaclyn’s gone to bed.
Laurie: “She’s so funny…”
Kate: “So competitive…”
Laurie: “No, no, no, but she’s always been like that. But you’d think with all her success, she’d have mellowed out….”
Kate (whispering): “Narcissist?”
Laurie (nodding): “A little bit.”
Kate: “And the vanity…I mean, I know she says she has to maintain it, because it’s her career, but did she sandblast her face or something? It’s very waxy.”
Laurie: “She’s still gorgeous though.’
Kate: “Oh no definitely, definitely…Gosh she had the face that everyone wanted…”
Laurie: “Oh I know…”
PAUSE
Kate: “And the thing with her husband?…”
Laurie: “Yes! She goes on and on, they’re so in love, so addicted to each other, but I mean, are they ever even in the same room?”
Kate: “I don’t think they ever see each other.”
Laurie: “See that’s what I’m saying!”
Kate: “You know, I think she’s just lonely.”
This legend is the reason “MILF” and the “bend and snap” are part of our vernacular… so why has it taken so long for her to be recognised as one of Hollywood’s greatest talents?
This dance of love, hate, accompanied by knowing looks, eye-rolls and micro judgements (and all out aggressive judgements) is performed alternatively between all three women throughout the series. None of them are immune and it eventually culminates in a girlcode (and marital) betrayal. I can't wait to see the fallout in the final two episodes.
“Bloody hell, are women really like this?” asked my boyfriend while watching. And I am ashamed to admit that if I am being really honest, in my experience, yes, they can be. Me included.
And just to check that I am not a toxic friend, in a circle of toxic friends, I asked two female colleagues who had also seen the show. And they too agreed that yes, this behaviour is indeed uncomfortable, because it is indeed relatable. Especially as women get older. And it got me thinking as to why this is. Why do we feel the need to dissect our female friends' shortcomings with our other female friends? There’s no doubting that Kate, Laurie and Jaclyn do love each other and share a fond history, but the oneupmanship, the gossip, the projection and prejudice all tempered with protestations of love for one another are painfully familiar.
And crucially, as my colleague also asked me, why don't men behave like this? And therein lies the answer it seems. The good old patriarchy. Is is perhaps our very struggle for power, relevance and equality, fuelled by fear (and also often alcohol) that results in women behaving like this at times? To judge oneself according to one's peers in order to understand where we fit in and how we measure up - and ultimately, how we survive in a world that doesn't particularly like women? It's sad. And I am most certainly not excusing such ugliness, and I am most certainly not saying that all women behave like this, all the time. And I'm also not in the habit of leaping to blame everything on men! Women must take account of their behaviour - unlike Jaclyn, Kate and Laurie.
But I do think that our struggles, unlike struggles men have, may go some way to explaining why we turn on one another for self-validation, even if we love the very women we're turning on. And seeing it played out makes for truly squirm-inducing, but brilliant TV, which is exactly what The White Lotus has always always been so brilliant. Except, this season, I never expected it to hit so close to home. So thank you Mike White for a lesson in the importance of how not to behave with your girlfriends and a reminder of how powerful - genuine - sisterhood can be, if you eliminate all that bitchy crap.
The White Lotus season 3 premiers on NOW TV and Sky on 16th February
