Stark arc of teen reality
HBO drama ‘Euphoria’ left viewers questioning
Following a bracing season finale Sunday night, “Euphoria,” HBO’s sleeper teen drama hit about drugs and complicated relationships, left its characters in various states of disarray.
After choosing to stay immured in the small town and ostensibly breaking her girlfriend’s heart, Rue (played by Oakland native Zendaya) snorts/relapses her way through a musical number that, I’m sure, had Ryan Murphy shook.
Nate Jacobs is probably still spazzing out on his bedroom floor like the incel he is after his daddy put them paws on him.
Our beloved drug dealer, Fezco, might have a few bullet holes in him, and don’t even ask about McKay, Cassie and their unwieldy love affair.
Maddy is still recovering from her brutal relationship with Nate, who would probably destroy her if they remained an item.
The only character sitting pretty right now is Kat, and that’s because she was able to communicate honestly with her crush about the evolution in her selfunderstanding. The episode was as dizzying as teenage life in 2019 purports to be.
These plot points are all well and good, but the amazing thing about the first season of “Euphoria” is how much its characters, writing and structure taught us about the gray areas of teenage life — the themes within themes — subverting archetypes, and the potential disasters of hitting fentanyl while a guntoting gangster with facial tattoos eggs you on.
To that end, what follows are a number of fun teachings, messages and methods viewers can glean from the wondrous first season. No one knows what teens are into: The initial meta question for pundits and critics largely centered on what kind of show “Euphoria” actually is. Is it a teen show that glorifies drug use? Is it the most realistic vision of teenage life in the 21st century we’ve ever seen?
The torrent of articles trying to define exactly what it is we’re watching speaks to an issue that is larger than television: Do we actually care to know what reallife teenagers are going through?
While some of us have just resolved to call it a young adult show, the confusion — as well as our obsession with genre — does concretize the show’s strength: revealing the generational divide to be a fraudulent demarcation separating young folks from heavy conversations that they should very much be involved in.
Rue’s character arc of addiction and romance, alone, is enough to do away with that facile binary, but taking the story as a whole illuminates how the nation’s vices impact the lives and interpersonal relationships of young people everywhere. Shootin’ up looks good (visually): “Euphoria” creator Sam Levinson has talked about his own grapple with addiction — which is probably why his series does a wonderful job juking the pitfalls of glorifying drug use while also rendering scenes of being high that are captured better than most shows — and even many films — in the 21st century.
These dynamic moments are accompanied by a sparklingly lush color palette and pitchperfect sound cues, but almost always end with a brutal comedown. It’s done so well that when the idea of Jules (Hunter Schafer) becoming a crutch for Rue’s addictive behavior develops, we’re able to recognize withdrawal symptoms — culminating in a kidney infection — when Jules leaves town for a few days.
Once she returns, the glamour and glitter associated with their relationship has fallen quite flat as reality smacks Rue square in the face.
The inherent danger in their intermingling is borne out in the finale when Jules’ selfishness and Rue’s fragility run up against each other in a truly heartbreaking scene where each young woman has to choose her own path.
The wrenching moment that, at least for now, ends their relationship cascades into Rue’s coke bender at the finale’s close. Let’s talk about Fezco: Our beloved Fez! Firsttime actor Angus Cloud, despite his proclamations of not being a “real actor,” has been an absolute delight to watch onscreen.
As one of Rue’s primary sources of real, honest care (the others being her mother, sister and friend Lexi), Fez has seen Rue’s journey through rehab as a struggling addict and, even more, feels partially responsible for her substance abuse.
Fez is understood by his peers as a loser drug dealer with a learning disability, but as the season rounds into form, he becomes not only Rue’s confidant, but also her stoic protector.
Although the drug dealer with a code trope has been done ad nauseam on TV, rarely are we shown pushers who seem to care more about a client’s actual health than the bottom line.
Fezco’s likability highlights another of Levinson’s broader strengths: getting the absolute most out of his cast, many of whom are firsttimers.
Fez’s character felt livedin, as if Cloud, himself, had dealt with the weighty implications of the drug game firsthand. When he’s frustrated with Rue’s inability to sit down and shut the hell up, his graciousness toward her is tangible even as it rubs up against the demands of his work.
Fez is not a “lovable loser” in a way that garners sympathy. When he’s up for it, Fez can be downright terrifying as we see through his
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threats against Nate as well as the robbery in the season finale.
He’s not an antihero nor a TV test case for studying unequivocally bad guys.
Fezco is a man who chooses not to sit by and let his homies take hits — he chooses violence. And viewers chose him as an agent of violence they can actually get behind. He brings a beautiful balance of ferocity and fondness to this character. Zendaya is captivating as a complex character: There are a ton of other factors that make “Euphoria” one of the most invigorating shows on television, including the music cues and editing, which each deserve award nods when the time comes. But it’s the ways these characters were able to sneak into our hearts as realized people that will carry us into season two.
When speaking about her character, who is much more complex than her previous roles, Zendaya glowingly refers to Rue as a real person that she cares for and wants to do right by. As an extension of Levinson, the burgeoning superstar believes that Rue can come out of her struggle as a better human being who can accept the love she deserves and not just the quick satisfaction of a hit.
When Rue decides to return to her people — her mother, her sister, her hometown — she is also choosing slow healing over convenience despite the fact that she might have relapsed.
What that backsliding portends for the future of the show remains to be seen, but if the first season is any indication, it’s gonna be a wild, wild next summer for the kids.