The third season of Mike White’s White Lotus is concluded, and both the nuanced think pieces and complaints have rolled in.
White has felt compelled to defend the show in its third season – and rightly so. Yes, it WAS slow. Yes, it felt a bit pointless at times, like a long, drawn out exhale that dissipates in the air.
That was the point, however. A season inspired by the Buddhist contemplation of the futility of our earthly dramas was always going to be strangely unsatisfying.
I tend to love satisfying, plot-driven television (Reacher comes to mind, for example), almost as much as I love satisfying, plot-driven fiction.
However, I’m also a big fan of Ivan Bunin’s short stories; his Gentle Breathing, also inspired by Buddhist thought, came to mind frequently as I watched White Lotus‘s third-season characters navigate their expensive Thai resort and their own private catastrophes.
I have preferred to ignore Russian writers due to Russia’s war, but Bunin has always felt different for me. He fled Russia after the czar fell, and he was always very clear about the persistent illusions that the Russian state entertains about itself. As such, I feel comfortable citing him here.
The strangeness that persists in Bunin’s more enlightened stories is the same strangeness that permeates the third season of White Lotus. Loose ends are not tied up. Certain scenes feel extraneous – until they open up under closer scrutiny, like flowers do after they are watched for a while. Pleasure becomes synonymous with suffering.
White Lotus can and should be read as a satire of wealthy people who are trying to escape the harsh truths of existence at a particular resort. This gives the viewer distance – we can laugh at their troubles together (this same level of satire wouldn’t fly if we were dealing with the impoverished).
At the same time, Mike White has always wanted to go deeper. This is why one of the most beloved and iconic characters of this season, Chelsea, has to have the harsh ending that she does, for example. Beneath the frivolous concerns of wealth the spiky bones of truth remain constant, and the truth is that following your heart will sometimes doom you.
Bunin understood that, that’s why he won the Nobel Prize. White understands that too, that’s why he deserves the awards that are available to him.
Another gem of the third season is Patrick Schwarzenegger’s role as spoiled scion Saxon, a character we all loved to hate – until the writing on the show and Schwarzenegger’s own terrific acting skills (here’s a nepo baby playing another nepo baby, and doing it far too well for anyone to hate) brought both the character and viewer to a joint epiphany.
The slow burn of the third season, while very different from the first two seasons, allows for these kinds of quiet revelations.
I’ve only been to Thailand once in my life – I’m pretty eager to go back at this point – but I think White captured the setting very well. He let it do strange, magical numbers on his cast.
Westerners looking for hedonistic joy in the country have been a cliche for decades, but a contemplative directorial approach also reveals Thailand as a kind of mirror. You can only run from yourself for a while, your legs will always give out underneath you, you stumble into a dead end, and here is that mirror, clear and glittering.
Another pair of beloved and memefied characters, Mook and Gaitok, who work at the resort White uses as the setting for the season, reveal just how deep the disparity between tourist and local lies. Thailand’s reality cuts close to the bone to those who are actually living it.
As a security guard, Gaitok cannot shy away from the violence that engulfs his workplace. Mook cheers him on, because by being violent, Gaitok can ensure financial stability for both of them, even though he does not believe in what he is doing. Among the many tragedies of the third season, this one will stay with me the longest.
We want Mook and Gaitok to be a true love story – they are both incredibly charismatic, and glimpses into Gaitok’s inner life reveal just how gentle and honorable this man is – but convenience and financial reward prove to be stronger. Of course they do. Brutal societal inequality ensures this. Again, there is something of Ivan Bunin here; Bunin was as clear about drastically unequal societies as Mike White is.
Ultimately, both Bunin and White are not didactic. Bunin respected his readers as much as White respects his viewers. There’s no need to be beaten over the head with the truth here. Instead, the truth flows like water, and escapes like breath.
When the dust settles, I hope even White’s most harshest critics will understand the choices he made, just like readers understood Bunin eventually.