Sam Levinson’s HBO show has always aimed to ruffle feathers. But its new season’s provocations ring hollow
“You’re not a man!” screams Cassie Howard in the latest episode of Euphoria, HBO’s hedonistic, no-longer-high-school drama. “Men provide.” Cassie, who is brilliantly played by the human discourse magnet Sydney Sweeney, is furious with her new husband, Nate Jacobs (Jacob Elordi). She’s just found out that Nate, the all-grown-up high school jock, has been borrowing huge sums of money to fund their luxury lifestyle. In the middle of their wedding reception – a soiree she now realises has been paid for using illicit means – she is loudly berating him as their guests awkwardly pretend not to hear.
The wedding of Cassie and Nate was, somewhat unconventionally, revealed months ahead of Euphoria’s third season by Sam Levinson, the show’s equally unconventional writer and creator. As expected, it was a cinematic and expensive-looking spectacle that descended into disaster. Yet for much of Euphoria’s first three episodes, I’ve been wondering what the show – now picking up five years after the last season, with the cast navigating their early 20s – is trying to say. Episode three, like its predecessors, continued a portrayal of women that feels both old-fashioned and eerily prescient, projecting a shallow, manosphere-inflected fantasy of their motives. In a confusing jumble of plots, the only constant is an overarching disdain for the young women who made the show great.
