TV Retrospective: "Euphoria" - Season 1

Scene from Euphoria

In 2018, director Sam Levinson did more than making his name known with the splatterfest Assassination Nation. It was a film that transposed "The Scarlet Letter" into a modern social media-driven society, where everyone's emotions are on edge and one manipulative message can ruin a person's life. If there was any fault to the film, it was that the message was clear. He was more interested in the style and violence that came from the pent up rage. As a result, the film was scattershot, unable to fully be the profound attack on a society that Levinson could've produced. But still, there were few films that were taking as bold of chances for the high school market, and none came close to at least resonating a visceral response.

It's partially what makes Euphoria a fascinating counterpoint. Levinson moves over to HBO and is now presenting a story that is more grounded, albeit while still focusing on the disaffected youth who communicate through text messages. This time he isn't interested in the outward appearance of violence, but how every small transgression impacts the life of a teen who is rich with hormones and not a strong clue as to how to control them. There's a heavy dose of drugs along with sex (the series received early controversy for several episodes featuring male full-frontal nudity), but there's something more affecting about it. Underneath the taboos are broken individuals, looking for an acceptance that has long been rejected. Levinson may not be a savant when it comes to the teen gaze, but what he did over these eight episodes is capture something so profoundly unique and staggering that is impossible to forget. It may be bold, but it's also definitive in ways that tamer shows could not achieve.

The season ends with one of the more cryptic episodes of the season. Along with a fragmented structure (itself rare), it focused on Rue (Zendaya) falling into a pile of bodies as she talks about the day when she walks into that good night. Over the previous eight hours, it's been a look into the teenager's life and the disappointment she feels in life. It began from the first image, a memorable one of September 11, 2001, as a baby is seen in utero. It only builds to a story that never finds happiness, instead of having Rue explain how the teenagers cope with the disappointing world. It's one where nothing feels achieved, only further destroyed with the belief that they are not going to inherit a better society. From the first episode, Rue being manic depressive was not questioned. It's why the ending leaves a lot of curiosity with it. Is she going to die after walking out of her mother's house, having disappointed her yet again? Only another season would answer for sure.

It's the world that surrounds Rue as well. She is a drug addict hanging on the edge of sobriety at every turn. She turns to drug dealers for that satisfaction, finding medication her only way to experience joy. While she is a piece of the puzzle, her Humphrey Bogart-esque melancholic narration is used to veil the entire community that surrounds her. It's a world where girls go after the abusive jocks or turn to internet fetish websites to make money. They're all doing acts that appear shocking because they are. They are, after all, teenagers who don't know better. Part of it is thrills, but why are they searching for thrills in the first place? There's a lot to unpack from the ennui that radiates off of everyone's body, and it's the one detail that Levinson has so perfectly hooked onto.

To some extent, Levinson is interested in turning this narrative into a music video, filling the average frame with style as characters linger in house parties and get pressured into sex. It doesn't glamorize it but instead tries to find the figures under the shininess, barely-there because they are told that they will have some satisfaction with being there. On average, an episode unwraps a character's life up until high school, reflecting the pressures of a society that wants the best for their children but consistently finding them let down by unexpected forces. More than anything, Levison has created one of the most shocking teenage shows because it embraces the TV-MA staple, including once doing a satirical take on dick picks. These are all facets of life in the social media age, and to deny that they contribute to the problem is itself a problem. 

By addressing it head-on, a scene that gained notoriety for having 30+ examples of male nudity suddenly became poignant. After all, the adult videos online were disavowed as having a negative impact on the characters because it's always been there. It's a generation with easy access to sex. There's nothing bizarre about it, and they even try to incorporate that into their lives. It's how everything winds up being, where the only way to feel alone is to turn off the phone and go for a walk down a dark street, contemplating the point of life. Even rehab is only a hurdle to the next high. Levinson is interested in finding that breaking point and reveling it. He wants to know why teenagers go wrong, and he does so by exploring the accessories meant to fulfill their lives and finding that they are, at best, temporary forms of harm. 

It's why there's joy in lying in bed together, where nothing can possibly judge them. There's beauty in having something private, free of scrutiny and full of a deeper meaning. The show is unafraid to explore depression in its debilitating form, and it only adds to the shocking picture it creates. Zendaya, herself a Disney star still working on contract in Spider-Man: Far From Home, captures the apathy in her observations, managing to grow monotone without entirely becoming the mushy mouth. Still, there's a sense that everyone is barely holding on, and finding the titular "euphoria" is something intangible to some. Love isn't a clear message here. It's blocked by disappointment from family, creating insecurity that is inspired by a variety of forces including unpleasant relations. They keep trying, and it's the part of the show that feels most genuine and inspiring. Take aside the drugs and the sex, and all that's left is a need for human interaction to a generation who would rather text an emoji to them.

Has Levinson created a new masterpiece? Depending on which generation you're in, it's probably true. It definitely is a cutting edge tale the likes of which HBO has never created before. Even for a channel known for its vulgarity, Euphoria pushed boundaries and courted controversy by the minute. Part of it was because it was a story of teenagers losing the will to live. However, it's also shocking because Levinson found a way to get under the surface of these taboos and find the heart of these characters. There's a deeper understanding coming out that hasn't been this clear since The Leftovers. The epidemic of teenage depression and addiction makes sense because of the conversation it wishes to raise. In that way, it's maybe the most profound new show of 2019.

Euphoria is an imperfect show about imperfect people. However, it does so with a shameless desire to find why someone would turn to these addictions in the first place. Sure, it's shocking to see Zendaya in such a shocking form, but her honestness paves the way for the series' second half, where the heart begins to develop. There is a breakthrough at a point that makes for a vision of the tunnel finally closing, where optimism is not too far away. It will be hard to tell if this show will ever come close to reaching that big hug that it has been alluding to, but that depends on if the show will come back. There's a lot to think about, and Levinson has found the best way to address it, even if he's still not always the most engaging of storytellers.

Overall Rating: 3.5 out of 5