Euphoria Season 2: A Deep Dive Through a Frustrating Season of Television

Let's start with a little background:

As it had been hyped up prior to its release with intriguing marketing and the unique promise of bringing the HBO prestige production value to a high school drama, I watched the pilot of Euphoria right when it aired three years ago. It immediately enthralled me and I was hooked on its weekly releases, watching the first season as it aired during the summer of 2019, long before it would be given a second wave of popularity from a much younger demographic on TikTok (more on that later).

There was something about its expansive and audacious take on the teenage experience that I found so thrilling and alluring. And it wasn’t because of its infamously explicit depictions of sex or drug use, it was its scope and extravagance. It was the unbelievable level of grandeur and high stakes that supercharged these teenage character archetypes. Every time I have seen a criticism of the show as being “unrealistic” I have to laugh because that just completely overlooks the draw of this world. These characters are extravagantly overblown versions of real teenagers in the best way. They are completely detached from reality. They live in a fantasy world where teenage suffering is amplified into the most painful and staggering human experience imaginable. There is no past or future, only this endless limbo of adolescent theatrics where everything feels like life or death (and sometimes it is). Its high, operatic drama is the draw and you have to allow yourself to step into the fantasy.

The masterful balancing act that makes the show so exemplary though, is that through this group of eclectic teenage figures, the show still elegantly tackles realistic and grounded themes and issues. And from this striking blend of relatable issues executed with fantastical and excessive melodrama, a number of incredibly compelling and almost labyrinthine characters are born. Some of which I think are genuinely among the most complex and intricate teenage characters to ever grace our screens. Behind their attractive and often glamorous appearances, they are all complicated contortions of various traumas and deep insecurities. And we truly develop a powerful empathy for each of them, despite their often-questionable actions as they fumble through the minefield of pain and pleasure writer/director/executive producer Sam Levinson creates for them. He is criticised often for writing choices, particularly on the second season which I’ll get into. But, his greatest strength to me as a writer and the reason why he is able to have the show be so dramatic and at times unrealistic, is because at his foundation he is an incredible character writer with a deep and complex understanding of the personalities he invents.

The other core building block of the show, and probably at this point what it is most known for, is its visual splendour. There is no word you will hear more often in conjunction with Euphoria than “aesthetic”. The glittery makeup, neon lights and vibrant, revealing clothing may seem cliched now, three years later, as they’ve been co-opted by teenage girls in Shein outfits. But the first season really does have such distinctive and artful aesthetic value which is what helps in making it feel like such an otherworldly parallel universe of real-life high school. Typically unappealing teenage anxieties are splashed across a vivid, technicolour backdrop.

It’s also not just cheap aesthetic value, and is backed up by genuinely impressive craftsmanship with its beautiful and highly innovative shot composition, cinematography, production deisgn and lighting choices. It feels cinematic and grand and at times almost surrealist, in a way that TV, even from the likes of HBO, rarely does. I know that there are many Euphoria naysayers and I understand that the highly exaggerated teen suffering doesn’t appeal to everyone, but if you think any of the praise for the show’s visual style is undeserved, I’m sorry to say that you’re simply wrong.

That first season is just lightning in a bottle. There is nothing else like it. Very few first seasons of TV I can think of have ever had as much momentum. And while there are obvious narrative loose ends left to elegantly trail into a second season they hoped to make, thematically speaking I found it to be extremely satisfying and well-contained. Each character’s emotional arc is concluded and while, as I said, there are some obvious bridges into a second season, I genuinely believe that they could have never made more episodes and it wouldn’t have felt unfinished or unsatisfactory in any way.

The season is a wonderfully chaotic whirlwind of dramatic antics with high stakes and a fast pace. Yet, it always remains anchored by the fact that, at its core, is the strong throughline of Rue, Jules and their complicated but tender love story. I was never against a second season, however, I was extremely worried that once transitioned into a long-form show, out of the constraints of one contained season, and also with the newfound ego from how popular and well-received the first season was, Sam Levinson may lose his way. And it brings me absolutely no pleasure to report that unfortunately I was right.

The undeniable truth about Euphoria that has been consistent throughout its two seasons is that no matter what criticisms, deserved or undeserved, may be lobbed at it; when it is good it is SO GOOD. And I mean that when it is good it is borderline transcendent TV and has at times affected me beyond words in a way few series have. It has so many moving parts constantly clashing with each other as it races through storylines with its vast selection of characters. But whenever all of these moving parts reach a moment of synchronistic harmony, it is a symphony of devasting emotional turmoil and irresistibly fascinating character moments. It’s the reason why every time the show has pushed me away, it inevitably pulls me back in, constantly keeping me on my toes with where I stand on the series as I am just so affected by these wonderfully complex characters.

This is why I have been so hesitant to be hard on the second season, why I remained so optimistic about its trajectory right till the end and why I still, even now, find it difficult to label it is a bad or disappointing season – because I KNOW how good it can be. And large chunks of the season are that good. That’s the frustration. Woven into the manic and inconsistent batch of episodes Sam Levinson served up this season are some unbelievably compelling scenes, fascinating thematic threads and a couple of episodes which are undeniable knockouts. There are so many pieces of this puzzle that I love in isolation but they just don’t fit together as a satisfying whole.

Because of how turbulent the season was, I was holding back my ultimate judgement till the finale was released, hoping that Levinson might really stick the landing with this ending and tip me more in the direction of positivity. However, the conclusion, in the same vein as the majority of the season, just feels like a further collection of half-baked loose ends and unfinished character arcs discarded by Levinson when he realised that he had no plan for how to conclude them.

To cut Levinson and co. some slack for a minute, I think one of the biggest issues clouding this season, through no fault of their own, is unfair expectations because of its massive newfound audience. I remember as Euphoria was airing weekly in 2019 and while it certainly had immediate popularity and prompted weekly conversation on Twitter, it was nowhere near the mainstream phenomenon dominating the culture that it is now. And we know that for a fact because it was recently revealed that the viewing numbers for this season are more than double what they were for the first. In fact, it wasn’t until nearly a year after the first season ended, with the whole world quarantining, when it became clear that a younger audience was discovering the show and binging it. TikTok trends were born from the extravagant makeup looks, the original Labrinth songs, particularly salacious lines of dialogue, the unreasonably attractive young cast and the general visual aesthetic.

While I would never be in favour of gatekeeping a show or looking down on a certain section of its viewership because media is for everyone, the show became bastardized. It was boiled down to its aesthetic and these excessive and dramatic climactic moments were plucked out of the context of the often very complex arcs they existed in. People celebrated the show but I think often not for the right reasons. The logic and framework of other teen dramas was applied to a show that by its very nature is rebelling against that framework. The mainstream reputation of the show was forged from this and its intended existence as a thought-provoking, prestigious HBO miniseries which dealt with morally corrupt, complicated and exaggerated characters was lost.

I also think that Euphoria really benefits from the weekly release schedule, allowing for much needed downtime between each manic and fast-paced episode. However, because we know at least half of its audience didn’t watch the first season this way and binged it in retrospectively, they weren’t used to the weekly release of season two. This seemed to alter the way in which they viewed these weekly episodes and led to over-analysis and farfetched theorising online when they suddenly had to switch to having a week between each episode.

Another noteworthy aspect of the show’s lore is that, because of COVID postponing the already long awaited second season, there were two Euphoria special episodes released in between the seasons. They’re essentially bottle episodes, each being just one elongated scene of dialogue. In complete contrast to the usual pacing and energy of the show, they are quiet, reflective characters studies on the shows two leads which take time to unpack the psychological impact of much of the events of the first season. Rue is talking to her sponsor Ali in a diner and Jules is in a therapy session. Neither episode *directly* connects to the larger storyline of season one or two. However, they are undoubtedly some of the greatest episodes of the entire show and are in my opinion the absolute peak of Levinson's writing abilities, exhibiting how deeply and complexly he is able to explore his characters when he allows himself the time and space to do so. The Jules episode in particular, co-written by Hunter Schafer herself and based on her experiences as a trans woman, is in contention for the best episode of the entire show.

And most importantly, while as I said neither are directly tied into the plotting of either season of the show, I believe both to be absolutely essential to understanding Rue, Jules and their relationship. They’re like a key that unlocks so much of the reasoning and context behind their actions, both in reflecting on season one but also setting you up for season two. The problem though is that, based on the viewing numbers and evidence online, a massive section of viewers either didn’t watch these episodes or labelled them as ‘boring’ or ‘slow’ and discarded them without thought. So, the thing that actually represents the best of the show and of Levinson’s abilities, and which is essential to a truly deep understanding of Rue and Jules, was ignored or misunderstood. To just give one example of the harm done by skipping these episodes; I saw so many people complaining during season two that Jules ‘hadn’t apologised’ or ‘owned up’ to leaving Rue in the train station at the end of season one and still holding it against her character, when the Jules special episode quite literally ends with Jules tearfully apologising to Rue for that very thing.

All of this expansive context was given to make the point that I think season two being served up to a younger audience who had largely lost sight of what was actually compelling about the first season, were thrown off by the weekly releases after being used to consuming the show in binge and didn’t watch or else didn’t pay attention to the incredible special episodes, led to an online climate around the show that was less than ideal. And while I have many criticisms about the season which I will explore, I do think a lot of takes I saw about it online still represent a fundamental misunderstanding of much of its intent and storytelling. With each episode it became clear that the show was being both loved and hated for the wrong reasons.

In terms of its aesthetic becoming so popular, this invertedly really threw a spanner in the works as Sam Levinson and others associated with the show expressed that they wanted to place more emphasis on the storytelling and ‘remind people what the show was actually about’, which I understand. However, they did this by almost completely pulling back on the visual style and aesthetic for season two and largely draining it of colour and visual flare. I don’t think they realised that by doing this they completely shot themselves in the foot. Because in a world that looks and feels much more grounded and monotone, these over-the-top and outlandish characters suddenly feel out of place and our suspension of disbelief about how unrealistic some of the storylines are, is lowered, urging us to be more critical of writing that is supposed to exist in a fantastical world.

So with an understanding of the already complicated audience expectations it had to appease, and the way in which the show's new reputation set up Sam Levinson to want to rebel against what the show’s reputation had become, let’s try and unpack this mess, starting with what I think the season did right:

*spoilers ahead for the entirety of season two of Euphoria*

I have held the opinion throughout both seasons that one of, if not the most fascinating and rich elements of Euphoria, is father and son Nate and Cal Jacobs. So often in media, the truth is that antagonistic characters who do awful things are inherently more complex and compelling than virtuous characters whom we may align ourselves with morally. I remember stating after the first season ended that I believed Nate Jacobs to be one of the best and most effective depictions of toxic masculinity I had ever seen and I stand by that. There is such an intricate and complicated web of trauma and patriarchal constraints that has created the beast whom we see be repeatedly violent, controlling and abusive, and the cycle of generational trauma, repression and misogyny is clear from his father to himself.

I think one of the most impressive aspects of the writing of Nate as a character is how we believably see him as the victim in one facet of his life, while being the abuser in others. He is victim to his father yet Maddy, Jules and Cassie are victim to him. It’s a delicate balance that I think is one of Levinson’s greatest achievements. He challenges our capacity for empathy while never excusing or diminishing any of Nate’s horrific actions. To highlight what I think is one of the season’s best scenes; the Russian roulette scene with Maddy is something that has really stuck with me. It’s an extremely disturbing and very upsetting example of his abusive behaviour but so powerful and wonderfully acted.

Sometimes the reality of trauma and abuse, when portrayed unvarnished and unflinchingly, is uncomfortable, and the entire psychological thread of Nate and the now notorious tapes really represents that. Discovering these violent pornographic tapes of his father as such a young child is the foundation of the Nate Jacobs we see. It’s something that understandably altered his very brain chemistry in such a fundamental way and every time the show attempts to dive further into that I find it unbelievably fascinating. The possible psychological readings are endless. The nightmare we see him have in episode seven, which he then reveals he has had since he was a child, in which his trauma from seeing the tapes so young blends with the intense repression he has felt under his father’s thumb into an unbelievably disturbing image conflating the two, is extremely upsetting but also very poignant. I could honestly use it as the catalyst for an entire separate piece just attempting to unpack the psychology behind that and behind their relationship. It’s one of the boldest artistic moves the show has made.

Jules is only a further point of upsetting and traumatic overlap between Nate and his father and I think this is another spot where Levinson’s ability for morally complicated storytelling is clear, because it is obvious to me that the only woman in Euphoria who Nate actually feels genuine love and affection for is Jules. I find their dynamic so compelling, especially as she overlaps with his sexual trauma with his father. And the triangle of abuse between the trio is something I couldn’t even begin to unpack. Her appearance in Nate’s nightmare highlights this. I know there were some perhaps bogus rumours about Hunter Schafer being hesitant/unwilling to film scenes with Jacob Elordi this season as they only have one scene together, but whatever the case, I desperately needed more from them because their one quiet and oddly intimate scene in the car in episode six is one of the best of the season. There are so much unspoken and repressed feelings between them and this blend of resentment but also, in the most twisted way, love between them is fascinating to witness.

With Cal Jacobs, in season one he was clearly cemented in the canon of the show as an abuser and an oppressive force both against Nate and the many young queer people that he takes advantage of, including Jules. As is the case with Nate, it is impressive that in season two they managed to retain that and certainly not redeem Cal or justify any of his actions (if anything, as we dive deeper into Nate, Cal only continues to look more and more despicable), but also extract a genuinely tragic backstory from his youth. That eight-ish minute cold open that begins episode three where we get the tale of teenage Cal is possibly my highlight of the entire season. It is basically a short film that exists out of time with the rest of the show. It could be shown to someone with no context who has never watched Euphoria and it would still play beautifully. It’s unbelievably tragic but also gorgeous and poignant. It’s a love story that is better than almost any other the show has attempted. It’s just beautiful and one of my favourite things the show has ever done, period.

Not including his relationship with Cassie which I’ll discuss later, I do think Nate had at least one of the more interesting arcs of the season that did have some sort of conclusion. Even though Nate is a despicable abuser towards his partners, as I said earlier, he is still a victim when it comes to his frightening dynamic with his father. Though the literal Chekov’s gun that is set up and then ends up being a red-herring in the finale is incredibly irritating, I do think there’s something at least interesting in that final scene with his father about him doing the ‘right thing’ in some capacity, as is set-up earlier in the season when he does the ‘right thing’ by giving the tape to Jules (though of course the brilliant and intentional irony is that he did one of the most evil things he’s ever done and traumatised Maddy in order to get the tape so he could then do the ‘right thing’). The scene is still anticlimactic as the conclusion of both Nate and Cal’s storylines this season which had previously been far more engaging, but I’m interested nonetheless to see where they go with them from here.

Moving on from the Jacobs family, I think Faye is a genuinely great addition this season. I wasn’t sure of her purpose at first beyond comedic relief, and she didn’t immediately work for me within the larger narrative. But as the season progressed, she was elegantly folded into the fabric of the show. Her heart-warming arc of finally becoming respected and cared for by people who have no ulterior motive or intent to take advantage of her, as well as Chloe Cherry’s hysterical and perfect delivery, cement her by the finale as a highlight of the season. With her betraying her boyfriend to protect Fez and Ash who have been so kind her, she’s oddly one of the only characters this season to have a complete and satisfying arc.

Connected to that is the obvious centring of Fezco this season. I was a big fan of his presence in the first season, even as a side character, so it’s nice to see him move towards the centre of the narrative because he’s such a refreshing break from the high school antics and I think Angus Cloud is honestly a revelation. His and Ashtray’s subtly devastating backstory which opens the season is another highlight for me, as well as his intense beatdown of Nate later in the same episode which is such a satisfying and cathartic moment that Nate has had coming since the show started. Related to this is obviously the internet’s favourite ship of the moment, ‘Fexi’. It’s a little bit difficult to talk about Fez and Lexi now since the series didn’t really give us a satisfying emotional conclusion to the arc of their budding romance, but their scenes together are undeniably incredibly charming as they are a perfect ‘opposites attract’ pairing. The ‘Stand by Me’ sequence is an obvious highlight.

Speaking of Lexi herself, she is another character who was placed far more in the centre of the frame this season, compared to her relatively small role in season one. This was particularly pleasing to me as in season one I felt the writing of her as the emotional punchbag for everyone in her life and as someone who was constantly overlooked, was quite compelling but just existed in the background. Seeing that verbalised and explored further this season has been fantastic. I also am so glad that they had such a wonderful reconciliation of her friendship with Rue and we got to see a little more background on that. The final scene between the pair is just so cathartic and sweet. Also, a quick shoutout to Alana Ubach is absolutely vital because she might be MVP of the season with her role as Suze, Lexi and Cassie’s mom. A hysterically funny performance.

This obviously leads us into the play and while I do think it poses some slight issues about the inconsistent tone of the show which I will address later, episode seven which weaves theatre with reality through the framework of the play is undeniably fantastic and just such a sheer achievement of visual storytelling. It unlocks a lot of depth about other characters, as we get a doorway into the deep friendship between Maddy and Cassie, as mentioned, more background on Lexi’s friendship with Rue and more. It is also just unbelievably entertaining to watch and of course Austin Abrams deserves a mention for his performance as Ethan in his many roles in the play. It's just immensely hilarious and commendable. While certainly not the best thing the show has done, the episode in many ways feels like the magnum opus of the fragmented, time-bending storytelling Levinson has attempted in both seasons. The sheer scale and ambition to pull off the episode and have it be as good as it is, is quite astounding,

Maddy and Rue, while one is obviously more of a central figure than the other, are both characters who I think were not radically changed this season from their strong season one foundations, but just had clear and satisfying continuations of their arcs that made sense. Maddy really maturing, seeing a future for herself and finally breaking free from the cycle of abuse is extremely satisfying. After Cassie sombrely mentions her breakup with Nate, Maddy’s last line of the season, delivered right to camera, being “Don’t worry, this is just the beginning” is absolutely chilling and brilliant. She has eventually broken out of the cycle of abuse she had been trapped in with Nate for so long and now, looking at Cassie entering the same dangerous routine, she finally can see it from the outside for what it is. It’s a perfect and chilling full circle moment that completes an uplifting Maddy arc, while making a pretty powerful statement about the never-ending torment of toxic, abusive relationships. Alexa Demie got what I would consider unfair criticism after the first season as being a weaker actress than the rest of the cast, and while I never subscribed to that anyway, I think this season has well and truly shut that opinion down.

I’ll discuss how the storyline was concluded later on, but as frustrated and bored as I was for much of the Maddy/Nate/Cassie love triangle, one of my favourite things about this season is that the real heartbreak that the storyline is actually about has nothing to do with Nate. The real heartbreak is one of friendship. It’s a genuinely beautiful and tender portrait of the vastly deep love and sisterhood of female friendships and a testament to the fact that so often, those kinds of breakups can be so much more harrowing than a relationship ending.

The dramatic betrayal and fallout between Maddy and Cassie is simply devastating. And the subversion of expectations is genius - so much of the season is spent building up an explosive rage from Maddy when she is expected to demolish Cassie and Nate. Then, they completely subvert that. After one brief but hilarious scene of her flying off the handle when she finds out what has been going on behind her back, it becomes almost immediately obvious that Maddy is not even angry with Cassie and not even concerned with Nate, she is simply devastated that her best friend has done this to her. The scene from outside the bathroom door as she intensely pleads with Cassie for any sort of explanation for her betrayal is another highlight of the season, as well as the heartbroken expressions from the pair as they watch the mirror versions of themselves and their friendship in Lexi’s play. A beautiful but heartbreaking tribute to the depths of female friendship.

And briefly, I’m not going to discuss Cassie here because unfortunately I have some choice words about her portrayal this season later on. However, when discussing what’s good about the season, I would have to be out of my mind to not mention the fact that Sydney Sweeney gives an absolutely astonishing and completely deranged performance this season that in a just world she would easily sweep awards for. The levels of distress and sheer chaos she has to reach at times is staggering and she pulls it off more perfectly than you could ever imagine. She even gets a all-time great Black Swan / I, Tonya-esque ‘crying while manically smiling in a mirror’ moment.

With Rue, I think the first half of the season felt like a little bit of wheel-spinning with her addiction that so much of season one had already been dedicated to. I was concerned that there was no new material to pull from it. However, as she began to rapidly spiral more than she ever had, seemingly cutting off nearly every positive relationship in her life, it contorted into something much more effective and devastating and reached depths the show never had before.

This leads us into episode five which is not only without question one of the greatest episodes from the show’s entire run, but frankly one of the best hours of television I’ve seen in years. If I had to compare it to something, it’s like Euphoria doing Good Time (2017). With frenzied Safdie brothers-esque energy, the fast paced, unrelenting episode basically follows Rue in real time as she unleashes a hurricane of destruction on herself and those around her, reaching the rockiest of all rock bottoms. While I think Zendaya gives a commendable performance in season one and has been consistently good as Rue, I’ll admit that I didn’t *fully* buy the hype until this episode, which has now asserted her in my mind as one of the best performers of her generation. In the first twelve-ish minutes, as Rue has a full-fledged breakdown and horrifically beredes Gia, Jules, Elliot and her mother in what is clearly a failed intervention, Zendaya is STAGGERINGLY good. Again, I don’t mean to be overly superlative about this episode, but it’s one of the greatest performances in an episode of television I’ve ever seen.

I think it’s key to acknowledge that the reason why the writing of Rue has never faltered in the show is because, as he has discussed many times, Sam Levinson bases Rue off himself. He’s a former addict and Rue is a culmination of his experiences of addiction and recovery. The writing of Rue never slips off the rails because it has a real and tangible basis that Levinson can always rely on. It’s why, even through the more melodramatic first season, Rue is the one character who remains starkly grounded in reality and his exploration of himself through her continues to be effective.

While labelling episode five as the best episode of the season, I will also mention that I think the other two episodes of note (the only others I’d say I loved and had no issues with) are three and seven, though they’re both largely much lighter in tone. Episode three opens with the Cal backstory. Then in an almost vignette style with great pacing, it jumps between fun and entertaining sequences like Lexi imagining her life is a movie she is directing (setting up her entire arc with the play), all of the girls bouncing off each other in their conversation in the bathroom (“Bitch you better be joking” quickly proved itself to be the most quotable line of the season) and Rue and Jules interrogating Elliot. It also has some effective serious moments though, like the devastating scenes between Rue and Gia which accompany Rue’s ingenious fourth wall-breaking monologue which directly addresses and tackles the criticism of the first season of the show ‘glorifying’ drug use. Episode seven, as already discussed, is the play and is a brilliantly effective time and reality-bending episode that, while having many somber moments, is at times probably the funniest the show has ever been.

I also do want to highlight that while this season was largely drained of the now iconic Euphoria aesthetic and was missing that vibrant and elaborate visual style, it does still have great craftsmanship with impressive production design, cinematography, shot composition, etc. even if it’s not as cinematic anymore. And whenever it does do something visually striking and different, like towards the end of the first episode when we get the over-exposed lighting, slow-motion montage of shots of the characters at the party which visually foreshadow their storylines for the season, it’s absolutely stunning. This season is also shot on film which the first was not so I do think that’s cool!

And finally, while the original Labrinth soundtrack was severely lacking this season, I am a huge fan of the absolutely stunning track ‘I’m Tired’ from Labrinth and Zendaya, which is heard in small snippets throughout and then eventually closes the season. It’s gorgeously somber and while it’s very different than ‘All for Us’ which I still much prefer, it’s a nice touch that both seasons have ended with a Labrinth and Zendaya duet. The eclectic soundtrack (while not as effective as the original score and Labrinth soundtrack from season one) is pretty good all around with some fun needle drops.

However, my musical highlight of the season, and it surprises me to say this because I am really not a fan of her normally, is Lana Del Rey’s ‘Watercolor Eyes’ which was released as an original single for the show. It concludes episode three which as I’ve said is a favourite for me and it’s just absolutely sublime and ethereal and melancholy. The fact that the episode opens with the tragic Cal backstory, proceeds to jump between mostly lighter and funnier moments, but then ends on a sad and beautiful note once again with ‘Watercolor Eyes’ is a perfect choice.

So where does the season fall apart?

I mention how well-paced and engaging my three favourite episodes are because I think that generally the season has a massive pacing problem. The first season was a speedy, non-stop thrill ride which rarely slowed down and I don’t think there’s a single episode that feels wasted or disposable. It’s all essential to the trajectory of the storylines. And even in the special episodes which are totally slow and restrained, each line still feels purposeful and important. In stark comparison, I would go as far as to say that about half of this season feels like pure filler. That’s not to say it’s all bad or that there’s not great scenes in every episode. But the season just felt like it aimlessly ambled on with no clear direction it was pushing towards. In particular, episodes two, four and six just feel like a loose collection of scenes placed in between the other more clear and concise episodes.

I’m not saying that I think the season necessarily needed to repeat it to work, but it is worth noting that this season largely abandoned the framework of the first season where every episode would be particularly focused on one character’s point of view, ala Skins. In season one, each episode would open with a character’s backstory and then the rest of the episode, while still following the other characters of the show, would be largely framed around that character. This season is far more inconsistent with no fixed structure. A couple of episodes do open with character backstories (Fez, Cal). However, most don’t and even those episodes that do open with someone’s backstory then don’t really remain focused on that character in any way so the backstory feels randomly placed and doesn’t really add much structure to the episode.

From episodes two-six there was this turbulent five-week period which gave me such intense whiplash, going back and forth from excitement to nothing. Episode two was filler, it’s the one episode of the season I honestly hardly remember. Then episode three, as mentioned, is really engaging and well-paced. Then episode four might be the worst episode of Euphoria. It’s so awfully scattered with no clear point to anything that’s taking place and is the clearest example of Levinson going for vibes over coherent story. This is probably most clearly represented when we cut between Cal and Cassie both drunk and spiralling in their own ways, dancing to a Sinead O’Conner song and we must ask ourselves, what connects these two characters or storylines in any way? What is this show even about anymore? At the time I said that I felt like it could be the episode that signals the downfall of the show because it was just such a poorly constructed clusterfuck, and while I was sort of wrong because it definitely didn’t get that bad again, it does encapsulate the manic and inconsistent energy of the season.

I also think that, as I alluded to earlier, the season had such an intense and exhilarating penultimate episode with the play, and teased us that there would then be a part two in the same vein, only to deliver a pretty dismally anticlimactic finale. It has some scenes I liked which I’ll discuss, but was largely aimless and slow until it ended suddenly, leaving much to be desired.

As well as pacing issues, the tone of this season was also wildly scattered. I am not against the show aiming for absurd comedy and almost camp at times, there is subtle shades of this in season one with things like Kat’s past as a fan fiction writer. And the way the play is utilised in episode seven this season, especially the absurdly funny ‘I Need a Hero’ number, is probably the best example this season where it works. However, there’s a few key places where I think this comedic tone went overboard and took away from the storytelling.

I mentioned earlier that I think the devastating friendship fallout between Maddy and Cassie is beautifully portrayed with the scene through the bathroom door, as well as seeing how much Maddy is grieving the loss of their relationship in episode six. Their pained expressions as they watch Lexi’s retelling of their early friendship in the play in episode seven are absolutely heartbreaking. However, the finale which is tasked with concluding that storyline in a meaningful way, then chooses to chicken out of any deep emotional reconciliation. Instead, it erases so much of the intricate and unique heartbreak of losing a best friend that was previously established and goes for cheap humour.

Some people are probably going to really disagree with me on this one because I get it, seeing Cassie march onto the stage mid-play to have a meltdown and try to publicly excuse her actions only to then be beat up and embarrassed by Maddy is funny and I enjoyed it in the moment. But it’s not worth that one funny scene to completely water down and retroactively ruin what had been a very poignant depiction of genuine heartbreak between two best friends.

To illustrate my point, it would be like if at the end of episode five, after we see Rue reach her rock bottom with her addiction, she pulled a face and cracked a joke about the situation. Even if the joke in isolation was funny, you could imagine how it would just completely undo so much of the great dramatic writing to come before it. Even after their physical fight when it cut to them nursing their injuries in the girls’ bathroom, I thought we might then at least get some sort of emotional catharsis between the pair, whether they reconcile or not. Instead though, while I mentioned that Maddy’s “Don’t worry, this is just the beginning” is great and the perfect thematic conclusion to her relationship with Nate, there is no conclusion or catharsis for her and Cassie. It deeply disappointed me.

And of course, that just opens up a whole other can of worms about Cassie in general this season, because it’s just bizarre beyond words. Without wanting to unfairly speculate, Sam Levinson clearly has some sort of strange obsession with Sydney Sweeney because Cassie is bumped up to being one of the most central figures this season, which she wasn’t in season one, but in the most bizarre and borderline demeaning way. I am someone who has defended the show before over criticisms of its oversexualisation because I think that a lot of the moments of nudity or extreme sexuality in question (though not all of them) have a more meaningful intellectual context than given credit for. However, multiple times this season she is heavily degraded and vastly over-sexualised for nothing other than shock value.

Cassie is a character who, in season one, I thought had one of the more complex, upsetting, and well-written backstories. She is depicted as someone who, partially due to her severe parental trauma from her addict father, has little to no self-respect. She is deeply insecure and exists in a harmful cycle where she depends on male sexual validation, almost like an addict and their drug of choice, and is repeatedly mistreated. I know that this made her unfortunately a deeply relatable figure for many young women as we see her be disrespected and exploited. Here’s the key difference though, and I can’t stress this enough; In season one we see male characters degrade her and that is the point. They are always depicted as being in the wrong or even as villainous. In season two, it feels like it is now Sam Levinson himself who is degrading Cassie through how he writes and portrays her. That’s the danger. We are in the lens of the degrader and there is nobody to comment on it or condemn it.

Not only is there too much exploitative nudity of her (in a season that otherwise really pulled back on the nudity mind you), but it now feels like in the most bizarre way, issues/trauma she has which were treated sensitively in season one, are fetishized. There are uncomfortable allusions to her trauma or deep insecurities, which are disturbingly twisted into sexual provocations. The scene in episode seven where she gives her monologue about wanting to surrender all control and agency to Nate is probably the clearest evocation of this. There is an attempt made to drive home the point that she’s addicted to attention and validation which is true and is more elegantly portrayed in the first season. But there is still a disturbingly erotic tone to the scene. And this harmful addiction to attention feels like an afterthought this season. Her insane public breakdown in the final episode which she then has no emotional reconning or no catharsis after, is the final nail in the coffin of the incredibly cruel portrait of ‘hot mess’ Cassie that dominates so much of the season.

And for as big of a plot point as their relationship is, whatever kind of love or attraction or even obsession is supposed to be between her and Nate is just not believable enough to sell it. I know that we are obviously supposed to understand that Nate is in denial about actually loving her or caring about her in any meaningful way because she is clearly a play-thing to him. But even by those standards, it doesn’t make sense why he even bothers with her after a while, as he seems to only find her irritating. It’s just never believable in any facet and the storyline gets so tiring so quickly. I hate that such a large amount of the season was wasted on it.

Let’s now jump from one triangle to another. I mentioned earlier that Faye was a great new addition who fit seamlessly into the fabric of the show. However, a new character who did not is Elliot. In the final episode (in a scene that has now become a meme for how long it is) Elliot, played by real life musician Dominic Fike, sings Rue a song he wrote for her. The song is a pretty beautiful evocation of friendship. It encompasses him meeting Rue, bonding with her over the unfortunate basis that they’re both adolescent drug addicts, realising that he has been unaware of just how severe her addiction is and enabling her, selling her out to her family to try and save her and then having her cut him out because of it. Here’s the problem; it’s a satisfying and moving arc laid out in the song that was just not clearly conveyed throughout the rest of the season. It’s like Sam Levinson explaining to us what he had been attempting to write but none of it actually came across in the writing.

Most of the time Elliot felt like an awkward third wheel to Rue and Jules in a way that completely distracted from any deep friendship between him and Rue. And his intentions were so unclear, with his presence at times feeling almost antagonistic. I found him quite unlikable and I know others did too when, from what we know, I don’t think that was the intention in the writing. It was hard to get any sort of legible grasp on his personality or morals and of course, it’s hard to buy that everything he did was for the sake of his friendship with Rue when he was openly flirting with and eventually sleeping with her girlfriend in the process. So much of the first half of the season is this toxic triangle between the trio that just never seems to build up to anything meaningful or be reconned with.

And that brings us to my biggest bone to pick with Sam Levinson for his most egregious writing all season in my eyes. And that is what he did to my beloved Jules, and to her and Rue’s relationship by extension. The core of Euphoria season one is the complicated love story between Rue and Jules. And I say that it’s complicated because while their romance is so beautiful and so tender, it cannot be forgotten that Rue is an addict and, on that basis, a relationship between them is probably never going to be realistically sustainable during this period of her life. So don’t get me wrong, I am not upset that they don’t end up together. I can see how them falling apart would make sense because the foundation of their relationship is so tied into Rue’s addiction.

What I am upset about is that I feel like, without any depth or thought or real time given to it in the story, their relationship which is so key to season one, is just discarded carelessly. Rue is lying to Jules, Jules is cheating on Rue, Jules betrays Rue in Rue’s eyes and that’s it. While there is a tiny morsel of some sort of reflection on this in the finale, for the most part this is all done so quickly and carelessly and never explored. He spent ten episodes (including the two special episodes) slowly and sensitively building their romance only to tear it down almost immediately in season two and then try to ignore the fallout.

And that obviously speaks more generally to the destruction of Jules in the writing. Through season one she became one of my all-time favourite TV characters who I thought was so exquisitely written, and not just for the wonderful trans representation she brings. Then, her special episode between the seasons which Hunter Schafer largely wrote, being able to infuse so much of her own experiences into Jules, is quite frankly just a stunning work of narrative writing. I’ve seen many people call it the best episode of the whole show and I definitely think you could make a case for that. It’s important to say that in season one and with the special episode, Jules is actually almost a co-lead alongside Rue (they’re the only two who got special episodes!). The first season focuses so heavily on her and really dedicates a lot of attention to her perspective which only serves the show well because of how compelling and innately likable of a character she is.

Then, not only is she just completely sidelined this season, barely saying five sentences in the last couple of episodes and being pushed into the background. But when she is focused on, it feels like a betrayal of so much of the foundations of her character. In her special episode she essentially lays out how she wants to dismantle her internalized male gaze and stop depending on male attention to validate her femininity. She even goes as far as to lay out a blanket statement that she thinks she is simply “done with men”. It’s beautifully and intelligently realised in the script, clearly through Hunter’s hands on the character. Then Sam Levinson takes that, gives her no arc of her own, and has her ONLY storyline this season revolve around a man and her desperation for his validation once again. It’s nothing less than a slap in the face and all of her behaviour is so out of character in comparison to the special episode. It’s my biggest disappointment of the entire season.

Though as personally heartbroken as I am over the treatment of the character of Jules, it’s pretty undeniable that nobody was fucked over by Sam Levinson with this new season of Euphoria like the actress Barbie Ferreira. Rumours have been swirling about their behind-the-scenes feud over disagreements about the direction of Kat’s character which led to her storming off set multiple times and him then cutting out the majority of her scenes. And while neither of them have confirmed this, I think it’s pretty clear from what we see in the episodes that the rumours are true.

While not as central as some others, Kat is uniquely interesting in the first season. And you can see that they started something with her at the beginning of this season, because the bones of an interesting storyline are still there, about her struggling with deep insecurities and having damaging and unrealistic expectations for sex and love because of the fan fiction and fantasy she consumed so much of growing up. She has one noteworthy scene in the season which encapsulates this where she is being berated by an imaginary group of online influencers who have infiltrated her bedroom. They bully her with the bullshit body positivity mantras that are consistently spouted by thin and beautiful women online who can’t seem to understand that they quite literally ARE the beauty standard and have no concept of fatphobia. It’s a great scene that is never followed up on.

You can tell that this was going to be explored throughout the season but then because of the Levinson and Ferreira feud, after this one scene, Kat is turned into nothing short of a glorified extra. She only seemed to appear less and less with each subsequent episode, standing in the background of group scenes and barely speaking. And even in the few scenes where Kat does speak, like her conversation with Maddy at Maddy’s birthday party, it is glaringly obvious that the scene has been awkwardly chopped up to cut out as much of her dialogue as possible, it’s terrible editing as well as just being extremely petty towards Barbie.

It is oddly striking then, that after multiple episodes straight of her having basically not a single line, in episode seven, there is random clips inserted into a montage, of her doing camgirl work again. This is something which was a large part of her storyline in season one but which she was then shown to give up so it’s shocking and confusing to see her be returning to it. Again, this is clearly an echo of what was supposed to be her storyline and probably would have made sense had the rest of her scenes not been cut out, but it is so completely random and nonsensical the way it is presented in isolation.

And of course, the other victim of this entire debacle who was caught in the crossfire and dragged down with Kat, is Ethan. One of my favourite parts of the first season is the incredibly charming slow-burn romance between Kat and Ethan. It’s one of the only aspects of the season that is genuinely innocent and pure - a refreshing contrast to other relationship dynamics on the show. Their climactic scene in the season one finale, where they finally say everything that they have wanted to say about their feelings for each other, is a beautiful and satisfying conclusion which sees them solidify their love and help Kat move towards a much better place with her self-esteem. I was so looking forward to getting to see their healthy romance blossom this season.

As I said with Rue and Jules, I am not even inherently against a relationship I like being broken up if the relationship coming apart is well-written, effective and makes sense for how the characters progress. However, almost immediately in the season, Levinson just completely discards the entire eight episode slow-burn of season one and makes Kat suddenly lose any real feelings towards Ethan in a way that makes no sense for her character. The one scene early on about her not being sexually satisfied by Ethan due to having unrealistic expectations of sex from her youth, is again an interesting idea that is just never developed. And so, for seemingly no reason and no character evolvement, we see the pair torn apart in the shadows of the other storylines which are actually being shown.

Because of the majority of Kat’s scenes being cut it means Ethan’s are too by extension, so I really feel bad for Austin Abrams and am glad he still got to be spotlighted with how funny he is in the play. The one extended scene however, which the pair do get in episode six, can only be described as the complete and utter destruction of a character in front of our very eyes. It’s a breakup scene that had no proper build-up which would be frustrating enough, but it then just unfolds as one of the most bizarre and nonsensical character moments I’ve ever seen a character be given. Kat doesn’t have the guts to break up with Ethan, and so gaslights her way through a terrible lie that she has a terminal brain illness. It’s difficult to tell if this was even supposed to be funny or not because it’s just awfully written, doesn’t land as a successful scene in any conceivable way and sees the entire character of Kat be just decimated within minutes. There’s no other way to view it than a writer/director destroying a character because he hates the actress and it’s really unpleasant to see.

In addition to the vibrancy and unique aesthetic being drained from the show, making it look far less fantastical, having no original Labrinth songs this season except for ‘I’m Tired’ is so detrimental to the artistic value of the show. There are many moments when a great original score piece or Labrinth song was needed and would have really enhanced the atmosphere and impact. A couple of times they echo a tiny snippet of ‘All for Us’ and it’s extremely effective but just reminds you how much better season one was for many reasons, including the soundtrack. Removing the visual aesthetic and the Labrinth music just really stripped the show of such a huge part of its identity that it’s hard to see past it.

The last general point I want to make about what doesn’t work in season two, is just how many false promises there were, or how much intriguing set up was given but then never followed through one. The key example of this is obviously terrifying drug kingpin Laurie. The season basically opens with a tense confrontation at her apartment and appears to position her as the main antagonistic figure who will loom over the season. For the first half of the season this promise is seemingly delivered on. Her giving Rue the suitcase full of drugs is an anxiety-inducing turning point in the season, which we assume can only lead to the most terrifying of consequences for Rue as Laurie threatens what will happen if she does not pay her back.

Most importantly, episode five then climaxes with an absolutely terrifying encounter where a strung-out Rue goes to Laurie’s apartment, having neither the suitcase of drugs nor the money to compensate Laurie for it. Laurie, aided by a chilling performance from Martha Kelly who is so perfectly dry and monotone in her delivery, makes suggestive remarks about other ways Rue can pay her back, alluding to prostitution which Rue in her state does not pick up on. She pretends to be concerned for Rue’s wellbeing, helping her undress and bathe, before manipulating Rue into letting her inject heroine into her arm. Rue wakes up an unknown quantity of time later in a bed, in new clothes and with the front door locked, having to escape out of a window. The implications of the incredibly disturbing encounter really seem to be hinting towards some sort of attempt/set-up from Laurie to human traffic Rue, holding what Rue owes for the suitcase over her.

As the following episodes see Rue focusing on staying clean, seemingly being scared into sobriety by the encounter with Laurie, her storyline becomes far more optimistic. However, the shadow, looming over her recovery, is obviously the still very real threat of Laurie whom Rue still owes. I was petrified with fear and anticipation over all of the possibilities of how the storyline was going to conclude and when Laurie would finally deliver on her sinister threats. And then, after so much set-up of how dangerous Laurie was, how much was at stake with Rue taking the suitcase, her frightening threats if Rue didn’t' pay her back and her seeming attempt to TRAFFIC Rue – what happens in conclusion? Absolutely nothing. Laurie is never seen again and not even mentioned by Rue.

This really just speaks to the nature of so much of Levinson’s writing on this season, inventing intriguing concepts for stories and character developments, but not actually mapping them out as complete arcs across a season of television and it so clearly shows. The Fezco and Ashtray tragedy, which is probably the most noteworthy aspect of the lukewarm finale, is another evocation of this poor structuring. It’s aptly set-up early on that Ashtray has murdered someone and they’ve had to cover it up so the lingering fear of that being uncovered is implemented. And of course, Faye is also an interconnected thread of that storyline with her boyfriend Custer being the only other person with knowledge of what happened. The problem is that this then disappears for so long and is only ever mentioned offhand before it is brought back in the finale with no build-up.

The scene of Faye hinting to Fez that Custer is here to set them up and is secretly recording them is great for her development, and I do think Ashtray getting caught up in the moment and murdering Custer without thinking about the consequences is effectively consistent with what is so sad about his character; that a child has been raised on such brutality. The police raid scene itself though feels oddly structured in how quickly it happens out of nowhere but then ends up being far too long and unnecessarily stretched out, losing its momentum. The death of Ashtray is powerful and tragic but is executed awkwardly. Levinson clearly wanted a high stakes action climax but didn’t earn it. The season could have been structured around that key plot point so much better rather than basically only being a header and footer to the season with nothing of substance in the middle.

I can really appreciate episodes of TV which revel in being slow and subtle meditations on their characters and don’t rely on consistent melodrama. However, I just can’t wrap my head around the logic of (especially after such a thrilling penultimate episode which promised more by literally ending with the phrase “to be continued...” on screen) serving up a finale that is so lacking in any momentum or intrigue. Apart from cuts to what’s happening at Fezco’s house which feel so out of place with the rest of the episode, and the Maddy/Cassie showdown which as mentioned suddenly switches the tone of the storyline to one of absurdity, it ambles slowly through a loose collection of quiet scenes with very little narrative throughline to the episode. Then, while I thinking the final scene of Rue reflecting on her sobriety and her ongoing journey of self-betterment is satisfying for her character and a pleasant moment for the audience, it just ends so anticlimactically, leaving so much to be desired.

As I mentioned, the season one finale was a perfect execution of leaving narrative threads and open questions which could lead into a future season, while having every arc be thematically and emotionally concluded in a satisfying way. This made the season feel self-contained and satisfying despite not tying up every lose end. The season two finale on the other hand, excluding Rue and probably that Nate scene, just feels like one big knot of loose ends and unfinished arcs. It somehow doesn’t conclude any storylines in a satisfactory way, literally or emotionally, yet also doesn’t leave clear links into a third season. There are so many unanswered for factors – Laurie, Fez going to prison, Cassie and Maddy, Jules, etc. - yet none are left with feasible setups that indicate how they will be translated into future episodes.

I would love to theorize about where the show goes from here but I honestly have no idea. I would love to say that there was enough good to keep me hopeful, or that I think this season was a fluke and season three will be a redemption. However, unfortunately, I fear that this is only the first step in our journey of witnessing one of the most promising new shows of the modern television landscape plummet towards its downfall.