The White Lotus: Death on Vacation
“Just because they serve you doesn’t mean they like you.” The tagline from Clerks (1994), one of the most influential comedies of the ’90s, is a perfect fit for the HBO anthology The White Lotus, created by Mike White, whose résumé includes cult productions as a screenwriter, actor, and director (Freaks and Geeks, Chuck and Buck, School of Rock, Enlightened). Originally conceived as a limited series, the TV show has now reached its third season.
Shot and released during the pandemic, the first season of The White Lotus is built on an enticing premise for the literally captive audience of 2021: What would a luxury all-inclusive Hawaiian resort look like when the vacation days of wealthy American guests coincide – quite intentionally – with the workdays of those employed in the hospitality industry? Structured around a thriller hook – someone has died, we don’t know who or how, but we’ll find out if we watch until the end – White’s script dissects class and racial privilege, cutting deep into the glamorous façade of the upper class while also examining the transactional and opportunistic relationship between the island’s residents, who are just trying to get by, and their temporary guests.
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Their (as well as our) guide is Armond (Murray Bartlett, a revelation), the deeply resentful hotel manager who knows his job all too well: “You have to treat these people like delicate children,” he tells his staff. No one fits this description better than Tanya (played by the national treasure Jennifer “Stifler’s Mom” Coolidge), an heiress to a shipping fortune who drifts along on her own wavelength, vaguely aware of the world around her but fully accepting of herself (“I’m very helpless and deeply insecure,” she admits at one point). The codependent relationship she develops with Belinda (Natasha Rothwell), a hotel spa worker who gives divine massages but needs funds to open her own business, is one of the most engaging narrative threads.
White, a big fan of reality TV and a multiple-time contestant (!) on The Amazing Race and Survivor, knows his audience – one that loves escalating sham conflicts, devours travel blogs as an escape from everyday life, and suddenly found itself unable to leave home. As a result, he populates his cast with archetypal characters – the bread and butter of this type of production: the ambitious young woman trapped in the role of a trophy wife to a man-child; the powerhouse CEO mother with spoiled, insufferable kids and an emasculated husband; the frustrated teenager forced to vacation as a mere accessory to a family from a different social class. These are rewarding roles for a mix of established actors (Connie Britton, Steve Zahn, Molly Shannon) and rising stars (Sydney Sweeney, Alexandra Daddario, Fred Hechinger), whom White enriches with nuanced writing: beneath the abrasive humour and cringe-inducing situations lies an undercurrent of empathy for both masters and servants.
Sicily – L’avventura
The inevitable success of the first season led to another vacation at the same fictional hotel chain, this time in Sicily, with a mix of returning and new American guests. “Every time I’ve stayed at The White Lotus, I’ve had memorable experiences,” Tanya remarks upon arriving in Taormina with Greg, her new husband, who may or may not be cheating on her.
A more sexually charged (“For us, Achilles’ heel is Achilles’ cock,” someone quips) yet equally entertaining version of the same formula – mysterious death, frustrated hotel manager, shocking moments – the second season attracts a cast full of acting pedigree: F. Murray Abraham and Michael Imperioli (playing a father and son searching for their Sicilian roots), Aubrey Plaza (whose deadpan delivery is a perfect fit), and, of course, more instantly quotable moments, often starring Coolidge. See, for instance, the now-legendary line “These gays, they’re trying to murder me!” and an unexpectedly hilarious gag linking Peppa Pig to Monica Vitti.
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Like ominous foreshadowing in an ancient tragedy, the waves of the Ionian Sea and Roman-inspired sculptures loom before disaster strikes. Just as the first season highlighted neocolonialism and cultural appropriation – where the five-star hotel guests were treated to a traditional Hawaiian dance, complete with the usual costume and fire props, like a scene out of Survivor – the second season lingers on opulent old villas, fresco-covered walls, and priceless art collections, only to reveal their very British owners or the luxury hospitality circuit they belong to.
Not all storylines are equally compelling. The vacation of two couples stuck in the (un)certainty of (in)fidelity, which takes up a considerable amount of screentime, eventually starts spinning its wheels, with drawn-out scenes of characters glaring at each other in reproach or guilt. Otherwise, the formula works and remains nearly as fresh as before, this time using sex as the main currency that balances the power dynamics in all its forms – marital, transactional, as a favour, as a reward, or as a tool for deception and manipulation.
A Week in Thailand
White, who writes and directs every episode, has stumbled upon an elastic concept that allows him to keep what he likes (apparently, HBO gives him free rein) and explore new themes year after year, in 6-8 hours of indulgence in exotic locations. The third season of this ongoing clash between the Privileged and the Underprivileged, shot in Thailand, brings back Natasha Rothwell and assembles a fantastic cast (Parker Posey, Walton Goggins, Jason Isaacs, and the always brilliant Carrie Coon), setting the stage for a satire aimed at the wellness industry – its opening shots could easily be mistaken for a body lotion ad promising aromatherapy benefits – and Westerners’ limited understanding of East Asian spirituality.
If you’re expecting miserable rich people with problems so absurd you can’t help but laugh (because no one will ever say you went bankrupt) and staff members pretending to be happy to cater to their whims, then once again, you’ve come to the right place – this is the retreat that will realign your energies and balance your chakras.
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Rick (Walton Goggins), a compulsive gambler with a suspicious interest in the hotel’s ownership, hasn’t checked into The White Lotus with his wife (Aimee Lou Wood) just to escape daily life. His anxiety levels hover around a steady 8 out of 10, and only weed can calm him down.
Three longtime friends – television star Jaclyn (Michelle Monaghan), country club wife Kate (Leslie Bibb), and Laurie (Carrie Coon), married to her corporate job – have only a few things in common. None of them are competitive, none are jealous of each other, and none are going through a midlife crisis. Just kidding. Every evening (and every episode) ends with a little bit of gossip.
Mike White locks his characters inside a secluded resort where phone use is strongly discouraged and the soundtrack is a never-ending cacophony of jungle monkeys, alongside various losers back home (who just so happen to be white, bald, and past their prime). He’s not necessarily saying anything new – there are only so many archetypes you encounter in places like this – but he says it well.
The Ratliffs are on the brink of disaster but haven’t realized it yet. Timothy (Jason Isaacs) is haunted by problems back home, his wife Victoria (Parker Posey, delivering unhinged like no one else) is utterly disillusioned, and their three children seem to have been raised by different parents: Saxon (Patrick Schwarzenegger) is chasing sex, Lochlan (Sam Nivola) is searching for himself, and Piper (Sarah Hook) wants to write a thesis on Buddhist spirituality.
These are just a few of the characters Mike White locks inside a secluded resort where phone use is strongly discouraged and the soundtrack is a never-ending cacophony of jungle monkeys, alongside various losers back home (who just so happen to be white, bald, and past their prime). He’s not necessarily saying anything new – there are only so many archetypes you encounter in places like this – but he says it well. Plus, any show that manages to cast both Lisa from Blackpink and Christian Friedel from The Zone of Interest is impossible to ignore.
I’ve only seen three episodes, so I won’t vouch for anyone’s fate, but one thing is guaranteed: by the end of this trip, someone isn’t making it out alive. Hopefully, it’s a character who has survived way too many visits to The White Lotus. Justice for Tanya!
The third season of The White Lotus premieres on HBO and Max today.
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Dragoș Marin published articles and film reviews on filmreporter.ro and colaborated in various specialized festivals and TV shows. In everyday life he's a prokect manager while continuing to stay connected to pop culture and to write about what he has to say.