Euphoria
S.01, E. 04 – “Shook Ones Pt. II” (2019)
One of the aspects of Euphoria that has always bothered me is the concept that “Jules is the villain.” To be fair, there’s not a lot up to this point that provides evidence for this read. However, it is the start of contrary proof that I feel shows why she isn’t. As he does with every character, Sam Levinson has built a pyramid of conflict that allows every character to have deniability on some level. While some like Nate have less, everyone has a moment of good and evil throughout the show, reflective of being teenagers who are experimenting with the world around them. For Jules, it’s much more loaded than her cisgender co-stars.
As in keeping with every episode, the beginning reveals both a flashback and a hidden theme. For Jules, it’s the lack of trust that bookends everything. It begins, rather traumatically, with being forcefully inducted into a psych ward where she self-injures. She’s depressed, suffering from dysphoria, and a drug addict mother who wants to believe that science will cure her. There are moments in this that are a bit much for me to watch, but the intent is probably one of Levinson’s more powerful examples of filmmaking. His willingness to dive into characters who, mentally, have little to lose does lead to some engrossing moments of TV. It also allows Jules’ journey into the teenage years to feel more fulfilling. It also makes her father immediately likable, especially since he quits his job to be closer to home and, at least from a distance, looks like he supports her transition at 13.
But she is a tragic figure. As one can guess even from “Pilot,” she’s had to perform sexual favors for men who degrade her, that have to provide a preface saying they’re “not gay.” More than other gratuitous scenes in Euphoria so far, Jules isn’t depicted enjoying any of it. She simply exists in a world that denies parts of her, having to compensate just to survive. It’s what makes her relationship with Rue so powerful. It’s why every episode finds at least one moment of them in bed, protected from the world around them. She has a good heart even though there’s hostility in everyone. Cal wants to hide her for his public reputation. Nate has evidence that could put her on an offender’s list. So much finds her compromised if she so much as follows her own intuition. How does she even go about life?
It’s the bittersweet core of the episode and one that makes her such an endearing character. Like Rue, she has her own addiction issues (with the internet). She is finding ways to cope with a sense of isolation that fills the rest of her life with dread. Levinson knows the importance of their romance. It’s why when shooting them at a carnival, he puts them in front of explosive imagery, the celebratory music ushering in a moment of bliss that will only build by the episode’s end. In fact, the closing scene features a Take This Waltz (2012)-style rotation around the bed, reflecting back to when they met, showing how in that short time they’ve experienced a joy that felt like it’s been missing their whole lives.
Here’s the thing. Euphoria has been *good* up to this point, but those wanting it to get to something greater sooner have reason to have abandoned ship before this. It’s an uncompromising show that thrives on discomfort. As I’ve mentioned, limiting Levinson’s resources honestly makes him a more interesting filmmaker, and in this case, he turns in arguably the best episode so far (and arguably of the non-specials of the series). Everything is here from the style to the teenage vulgarity. There’s most of the series’ taboos at play from self-harm and sex to riding the merry-go-round while high. Everything is present, and limiting it to mostly an evening was brilliant for a variety of reasons.
The most notable is that it allows Levinson to actually show off what he’s capable of as a filmmaker. In one particular case, he pulls off one of HBO’s most impressive one shots since True Detective’s “Who Goes There?” As Fezco leaves his little food truck/drug den, the camera slowly follows characters across the carnival, laying out the geography from ground and aerial views. There’s vibrant music playing and the way that everything is timed is astounding, notably a moment that jumps from Maddy looking for Nate to a sky view of Jules and Kat on a Ferris Wheel before lowering the camera to Nate. It’s a juggling act that also is backed by one of the most stylized backdrops in the show’s history… and it all works perfectly. Everything is designed for maximum impact. Even the score has rarely been better than when Labrinth makes a queasy carnival-themed piece of music.
The thing that makes it extra satisfying is that it feels like it not only uses space to its full capacity, but succeeds in setting up and knocking over every plot point in ways that are practical to each other. Everything falls in line and there’s a sense of life to this story. Even the build-up from previous episodes works here, whether it’s Jules meeting “Tyler” or Rue showing a rare moment of responsibility as she frees Gia from a seedy gang. Will they get her hooked on drugs? Who knows, but even Rue knows that despite knocking on Fezco’s door last time, she is not wanting to send her innocent sister down that path. She does have a conscience even if she doesn’t fully know how to apply it to herself.
It’s why Ali is there at a diner that will become more prevalent in “Trouble Don't Last Always,” but for now shows Rue at least attempting something greater in her sobriety. Colman Domingo is deserving of more attention for this role, which comes in spurts but always leaves a sense of wisdom and optimism for a drama that thrives on downbeats. He knows the pain because he’s lived it. While this episode isn’t the most explicit, there’s a balance that is desirable for future episodes. It’s a moment where Levinson is allowed to show off and not have it feel distracting as it did in “Made You Look.”
Even a late in the story scene between Jules and Tyler a.k.a. Nate has this beauty to it that is undercut by Nate’s awful behavior. The music becomes melancholic, the lack of trust returning as Jules is told that she is broken. It’s the type of behavior that sets up the back half of the season, finding taunts that seek to throw her back into self-hating behavior. Jules needs Rue to not reach that level of isolation, and yet one can presume that she will eventually have no choice. The stress is too much. She is going to fall victim to something. This moment of happiness cannot last, for it’s Euphoria and Levinson loves watching characters dive into complete despair.
Still, bravo on finding the moment where Euphoria proved that it was something more than another show about how shocking and demoralized the modern teen was. There’s still reason to be concerned, but at this point, it’s more executed in a familiar fashion, where the pain is implicit instead of explicit, finding Jules turning Cal into a nervous wreck with her presence, or how Maddy dresses sexually and Nate is embarrassed by her to the point of physical abuse. There are moments that are building off of what we know, and it’s intense. Even if everyone is surrounded, a carnival can feel isolating. It’s big, full of noise, and it’s easy to get lost if you don’t know where you are.
For those considering that Jules is the villain, there’s clearly some bias at play. It’s true that her story only becomes more complicated, but like every other character understanding the root cause will only make things more defensible. She is imperfect, and having to live with the threat of two men with power over her, there are chances that anything she does will make her crumble. Given how she reacted to being tossed in a psych ward, it’s enough to make her paralyzed, act irrationally. She has simple dreams, of moving to New York with her best friend – who at this point is Rue. It’s simple and sweet, and frankly, any excuse to get out of this town is one worth considering.
As Euphoria’s sole transgender character (at least as of season one), it’s a curious affair to deal with her arc. While it’s true that every character has their own plight, there is something at times tragic and familiar about casting trans characters in these types of roles. They’re sex workers, mentally unstable, devalued by society. That isn’t to say that Levinson plays into all of the worst tendencies, at times effectively commenting on transphobia. In fact, there’s more dimension to Jules than most characters of this ilk tend to be. She does have some hope in Rue, a loving father, and at least some sense of purpose. While the story features a lot about her being objectified, it feels like Levinson is trying to engage with this concept, slowly passing agency onto a character who feels helpless, at times literally different from those around her.
Of course, this is a comment that Hunter Schafer has brought up before, even suggesting that she wants to explore Jules’ queerness more in season two. I’m personally for it, especially if it means her providing more input into how her character is written. Given that Schafer wrote my favorite episode “Fuck Anyone Who’s Not a Sea Blob,” it makes sense to allow for more authentic perspectives. While the flashback has an impact that creates genuine emotion, it’s more impressive to contrast that with how Schafer sees the character later on, where she’s vocalizing things that Levinson is probably only guessing at.
It’s amazing to note that this is probably the best defense that Euphoria has for existing as a series. Whereas most episodes feel packed with plotlines that range from sincere to bizarre, this one ties them all together in a way that is satisfying, allowing growth with limited room for fantasy. Even if it does feature the funny trope of carding its characters right before anything explicit goes down, it does it with purpose this time, allowing the weight of bigger society to be felt on the show. This is a big moment, a celebration that hopefully resonated enough to inspire whatever season two looks like. There’s potential that it’ll just fall into the distracting style that is messy, but even then I’d like to think that Levinson has something more in store for the upcoming episodes. He may still feel like he’s extending too much into provocation, but right now he’s showing that he has the capability to dive into emotion as well, allowing us to see a vulnerability on display that is brilliant not only for a Euphoria episode, but general TV from around this time.
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