Twin Peaks Season 1 ends on a cliffhanger. Actually, it ends in half a dozen or so cliffhangers, where it seems like everyone in town gets shot, burned, sent to the hospital, or killed. When our hero, FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper, wakes up from his own brush with death at the beginning of Season 2, Lucy, a receptionist for the Sheriff’s department, stirs up a whole series of life-changing events with one voice. It’s a word not so different from our drug dealer friend Euphoria Laurie’s, actually.
Which is appropriate, because that’s what the episode feels like: one big thing after another overstuffed hour. In short: Rue is arrested. Rue turns out to be a snitch. Cassie leaves Nate. Nate’s business is falling apart. Cassie’s business takes off. Rue is almost caught. Rue almost gets caught again. Rue almost got shot. Big Eddy it does get shot. Alamo and Laurie are at war. And Jules accidentally cost Lexi’s show $191K by drawing 14 penises on a certain dresser.
“How many candies would you like me to take out?” Patty asked Lexi’s boss.
“Let’s say all of them,” Patty replied.
So Jules, who probably as a trans woman is tired of hearing how inappropriate penises are, sprays the thing with red paint, paints a bigger pee on top, and calls it a night. I’m not 100 percent sure what she expected from a network show, but this is a woman who spends more time in expensive clothes than I do during the financial season, so she might not be used to a fun fall show or anything. Jules’ art costs the studio some money, Lexi is respected by her boss, and she has a frustrating day that she will never get back.
Plus, it’s funny! Much of this episode is funny, despite the high numbers. The Nate/Cassie story is like a classic 1980s parody of mansion living, with Nate making mixed metaphors about his reattached toe, Cassie walking out with a mountain of similar baggage, Nate kneeling in front of the zoning board and begging for another big Macgruber-style opportunity, and the famous Omissy influencing his wife and Cassie. I love coke!” the way you can say “Omigod, I love you You have a post office!”
Elordi has long been one of the strongest actors on the show, doing a great job in the villain role, so it’s always fun to see him emphasize Nate’s sweaty, feisty qualities of Failson. Sweeney, on the other hand, really leans into Cassie’s comedic side; since not a large part of Sweeney’s work revolves around him, he’s basically making fun of himself all season long. Cassie is drinking wine, stuffing cocaine in her privates, trying to make herself heard by blowing leaves out of her mouth. National Lampoon’s Holiday film, and she responds to her antagonistic sister Lexi’s comment that she is more important than her body by saying “My body is more important.” (Lexi chews out the whole gang for breaking down, saying it’s annoying how far they’ve fallen and it sounds like the members are boring Euphoriaaudience.)
But even though Cassie is stupid, she’s not dumb: She may have slept with this guy despite Maddy’s warning that it was the worst thing she’d ever do in her career, but when Maddy and her boys manage to break into her room to stop them, she’s back in self-promotion mode on her team’s cameras. “It’s just me, Cassie, and that’s my handle!” he says, cheerfully like a 1950s spokesperson selling oven cleaner.
Rue’s situation is more difficult than Cassie’s. (Though he’s no more depressed than Nate; he turned down the building board, now he has no hope of paying back the money he owes his gang friend.) Two middle-aged cops (Hemky Madera and William “Bill” Bodner) have a right to die. They threaten to pin Laurie’s tainted fentanyl-related death on her — after all, she did distribute it — and send her to prison for life unless she becomes a confidential informant.
“Shwi,” he moans.
“‘Fuck’ is accurate,” agreed one of the officers.
Rue’s problem, however, is that they bring him back to the Alamo organization with a package of fake drugs, and when they come out of the basement and are broadcast at the club, his plan will be revealed. Since Laurie knows Alamo is guilty of killing her beloved bird, they won’t be doing business again, which means Rue doesn’t have any valuable information to give the DEA about the bug they put on her smartphone.
Things take a turn for the worse for Rue when she sees a new girl, Kitty (Anna Van Patten), apparently having abusive group sex with clients in one of the private rooms. One stripper has already overdosed, and another went to the “clinic” to never come back, the Alamo fate that awaits Rue if she uses hard drugs, too. How many can Rue endure?
Confused by his conscience, he goes to Kitty in the cabin and asks if she is being forced to work for the Alamo. Kitty denies it – and Magick, one of the other dancers, overhears. He quickly relays his suspicions that Rue is a rat to Big Eddy, though the DEA hears it over the microphone and warns Rue that she must defy Magic to save her own skin.
But while the three argued, Laurie’s red ass popped up wearing a scary stock Obama mask and carrying guns. After threatening to kill Rue and Magick, they instead injure Big Eddy, telling him they will shoot his stick unless he opens the Alamo’s most important safe full of drugs and money, and they clean it. But Magick and Rue are able to pull up the getaway truck’s security footage and spot the driver: Faye, Rue’s “big-lipped” friend.
Obviously, we’re a long way from the high school relationship drama, even the more over-the-top and drug-addled version Euphoria Seasons 1 and 2. Would this show have taken off the way it did without that near-universal approach to teenage angst? Probably not. Does that mean its reincarnation as a dark comedy crime drama about a group of past and present(ish) friends, all of whom are about as dumb as a pillow full of door bins, doesn’t work? Well no – this is my go-to hour of TV.
With a new status quo already established for the main cast, director-creator-writer Sam Levinson can make big leaps into a plot like the ones we’ve seen here, while still maintaining the show’s usual mix of generic trashy art and dirty art. There are stark white images in this episode that are admittedly Kubrickian, there’s a rom-com makeover montage, there’s pee graffiti, there’s a high-stakes poker game, there’s a gut-wrenching theme of women being treated like trash, again there is a funeral for a slain cockatoo, complete with a small casket. Euphoria Season 3 is like a safe full of pills: Some are for picking, some are poison.
Sean T. Collins (@seantcollins.com on Bluesky and @seantcollins on Patreon) has written about television for The New York Times, Vulture, Rolling Stone, and elsewhere. He is the author of Pain Doesn’t Kill: Reflections on the Road House. He lives with his family on Long Island.
