For many reasons, I did not go into the third season of HBOâs Euphoria with high hopes. In the four years leading up to the season, several factors have clearly hindered its production. The death of Angus Cloud, many controversies with Sydney Sweeney, and reports on Sam Levinsonâs direction are a few factors that set the tone for the season. However, I canât resist the Sunday night live tweeting that HBOâs weekly airing brings. With no more Succession or Hacks, I hoped the return of Euphoria would bring some of the entertainment of its prior two seasons. What the third season brought, however, was baffling plot lines, character development to be desired, and an immense amount of scheduling difficulties. In this spoiler-filled review (this is your warning!), I will delve into my many thoughts and problems with the series, and my reaction to its lacklustre ending.
My main critique of the season is an amplification of what Euphoria has always (rightly) been critiqued for: its treatment of women. After reports from the second season that Sydney Sweeney asked for a reduced amount of nude scenes, and the constant questioning from viewers concerning the gratuity of teenage sex, Levinson could have taken any direction with Euphoriaâs return. What he chooses to do is tackle the topic of sex work and OnlyFans. Through a lens of female sexual empowerment, these are incredibly prevalent topics in the current social climate, but there seems to be a recent trend in how they are tackled in fictional media. Sean Bakerâs Anora, a film following a New York sex worker, took home five Academy Awards in 2025, including the prestigious Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actress. While there arenât too many narrative similarities between Anora and Euphoria, it is notable that straight, white men appear to be taking the lead in telling these stories about female sex workers. For example, in the majority of Sweeneyâs scenes in the season, she is filming content for her OnlyFans in costumes such as a dog and a baby. Cassie is made by Levinson to imitate and allude to extreme and illegal fetishes, which are actually banned on OnlyFans for obvious reasons, which says a lot about how much research Levinson has put into his narrative.Â
Outside of the realm of OnlyFans, Levinson tackles sex work through the setting of the Silver Slipper, a strip club Zendayaâs character, Rue, begins to work at. Through the course of the season, Rue becomes acquainted with a number of sex workers who succumb to fentanyl overdoses, sexual assault and (as viewers on Twitter have argued) organ trafficking. Now, Levinson obviously has the right to put these issues on TV. My issue lies in that every actress playing these abused sex workers is relatively unknown, and their scenes are deeply uncomfortable next to the more established actors. Sweeneyâs Cassie is the breadwinner in her relationship with Nate Jacobs, and he is left emasculated as she earns their money as an OnlyFans model. On the other hand, newcomer Anna Van Patten plays Kitty, a dancer at the Silver Slipper who gets sexually assaulted in a private room at the club, and all of the characters, essentially, move on without care. Even RosalĂa, who plays another girl at the club, Magick, and is a hilarious part of the season, just dances on a pole and has some comedic arguments with Zendaya, comparatively spared from the more horrific acts the lesser-known actresses are made to perform. While it is known that Zendaya has an iron-clad âno nudityâ clause, even the treatment of newcomers versus more established figures seems to show within the depravity of their scenes, in a way that feels deeply exploitative.Â
Another major downfall for me is within the strip club narrative. The Silver Slipper is owned by Alamo Brown, a pimp and self-proclaimed âblack cowboyâ who acts as Rueâs employer and the major antagonist of the season. The majority of Alamoâs sequences, including his interactions with his left and right-hand men, Bishop and G, and the religious overtones of the season that foreground his relationship with Rue, make it increasingly clear that Sam Levinson just loved Pulp Fiction, and so the season essentially just becomes a long-winded homage. In a similar manner to Tarantino himself, Levinson litters the N-word throughout the script, spoken by black and white characters alike, and perpetuates AAVE through dialogue in a way that feels incredibly uncomfortable to watch. Alongside the aesthetic of sex, crime, violence and drugs, Levinsonâs presentation of these characters does not seem to amount to anything other than he thought he was making something cool. To an extent, Euphoria has always placed a large emphasis on aesthetics, but this season feels like it has no statement to make beyond visuals.Â
On the other hand, it becomes apparent as the season progresses that scheduling was a major issue. Zendaya has confirmed that she only filmed for four months, which places constraints on all of the plots within the season. For example, the relationship between Rue and Jules has always been at the centre of Euphoria, but within this season, with the exception of Nate and Cassieâs wedding, all of their scenes are filmed within Julesâ penthouse apartment. It is incredibly clear that their scenes were filmed within a matter of weeks. This constraint also reveals the under-utilisation of Hunter Schafer as Jules, who, though the secondary main character in the other two seasons, disappointingly has absolutely no character development in this one. The most obvious example of scheduling constraints, however, is through Nate Jacobs. Jacob Elordi has certainly had a busy time of it recently, from Wuthering Heights to Frankenstein, but the once terrifying and powerful Nate Jacobs is reduced to a Looney Tunes character in Euphoriaâs return. He spends around five episodes alone in the Californian desert, running around screaming, getting fingers and toes chopped off by the Albanian mob. And yes, it is as ridiculous as it sounds.Â
Yet another controversy that anticipated the season was the departure of British musician and producer Labrinth. Labrinth acted as composer and songwriter for the first two seasons of Euphoria, and his magical score, when combined with the glittery eye shadow that has been dubbed âEuphoria makeupâ, creates Euphoriaâs aesthetic. When it was announced that his score would be replaced with music from Hans Zimmer, viewers speculated that a fallout between Labrinth and Levinson had occurred, fuelled on by social media posts from Labrinth, announcing, âI DONâT LET PEOPLE TREAT ME LIKE SHITâ. I have been enamoured with Labrinthâs score since I first heard it in season one, and the lack of it this season left a detrimental mark. While Hans Zimmer is an incredible composer, the switch in scoring makes the show feel entirely different, in a way that did not work for me.Â
There are many other disappointments I wonât spend too much time on. Engaging plotlines like Nateâs fractured sexuality are entirely dropped, the tone is inconsistent from one characterâs storyline to the next, and thatâs without even mentioning the finale. The feature-film-length final episode, while aiming for tragic, is pretty boring and is essentially an hour of Colman Domingo Emmy bait.Â
There are a few positives to the season. Zendayaâs performance as Rue is consistently impressive, and Priscilla Delgado’s brief appearance as Angel was heartbreaking. I also must admit I was entertained for a majority of the season. It is ridiculous, but the jarring cuts to Jacob Elordi running around screaming were quite funny. However, most episodes left a bad taste in my mouth. The reckless handling of almost every topic Levinson deals with just makes the show a very tough watch.