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Review: Euphoria S2
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Francesca Sylph, Screen Editor, reviews the second season of Euphoria (contains spoilers)
F I had to describe the second season of Euphoria in one word, it would be… messy. A hot mess, but a mess nonetheless. Still, in the words of Lexi’s soft-spoken but strict stage manager Bobbi, “It could be worse… It could be boring.”
EUPHORIA IS A HOT MESS, BUT A MESS NONETHELESS The season started off strong with the opening scene coming straight out of a Scorsese or Tarantino film (although with less feet and more dicks). To quote Rue, “Fezco’s grandma was a motherf**kin’ G,” shooting up a strip club and looking hot as hell while doing so in her cowboy boots and royal blue two-piece suit. Episode one is also when Fexi was born: arguably the best thing to come out of this season. When Fez told Lexi that she was “like, the coolest person in here” and she turned away to hide her blushing smile, I was hooked. Don’t even get me started on the “Little House on the Prairie type shit” because I might start crying. After episode one, it all starts to go downhill. Euphoria has always felt like a bunch of (albeit very aesthetically pleasing) music videos stitched together, but at least season one had a legible plot and some cohesion. Each
episode had a semi-self-contained narrative, revolving around a particular character, or storyline, or location. I guess season two still had some of that: episode one follows Fezco and the New Year’s Eve party, while episode three delves into Cal’s past. Side note: do you think they knew what they were doing, naming his best friend Derek? Eric Dane, you will always be Mark ‘McSteamy’ Sloan to me. Intentional or unintentional Grey’s Anatomy references aside, most episodes this season were lacking in plot or structure. The cinematography, as always, is absolutely gorgeous. I’m thinking of that Cassie shot in episode four, tears rolling down her face and surrounded by flowers. I don’t think I’ll forget that one for a long time. However, so much of the aestheticism this season is not in service of the story, partly because there is no story anymore (or at least, it’s so all over the place that there might as well not be). It’s classic style without substance. Things started to look up again in episode five: possibly the most stressful television episode I’ve ever seen. With
Rue doing parkour and hijacked interventions (I audibly gasped at “How long have you been fucking Nate Jacobs?”), it genuinely felt like an hour long panic attack. Zendaya’s performance was absolutely phenomenal; someone give that girl another Emmy. But then, as is often the case, after you peak, you have to fall. Everything went downhill once again. I’ll admit, the theatre kid in me loved Lexi’s play in episode seven. When Lexi excitedly gushed, “I love the theatre,” I thought same, girl, same. If we could award Tonys to fictional characters, Ethan would take them all home. I sincerely apologise for anything bad I may have said about Ethan in the past; that sweet boy has done nothing wrong in his life. The homoerotic ‘Holding Out for a Hero’ dance number was the most fun I’ve ever had watching Euphoria (although, let’s be honest, the show is pretty depressing so it’s not too much of a competition). But then we have the finale. Sigh. Where do I even begin? It was so… disappointing. And unsatisfying. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m an easy crier, so it’s not a surprise that I sobbed
my eyes out during Ashtray’s death scene. However, that doesn’t change the fact that it made no sense. I know that kid has anger issues but he just killed Custer out of nowhere. There was absolutely no plot resolution whatsoever. Is Fezco going to prison? Are we just forgetting that Rue owes Laurie $10k after she almost got sex trafficked in episode five? Is Sam Levinson ever going to address the third Jacobs’ brother? So many unanswered questions that probably could have been resolved if we had skipped Elliot’s ten-minute long Tiny Desk Concert — a painfully familiar scene to any girl who has been forced to sit through a below average rendition of ‘Wonderwall’ by a sixteen-year-old Gallagher-wannabe.
EUPHORIA IS MORE FUN TO TALK ABOUT THAN TO WATCH Over the past eight weeks, I have realised that Euphoria is more fun to talk about than to watch. I have spent hours scrolling through Twitter and TikTok after every episode and cry-laughing over Angus Cloud’s chaotic livetweets. Despite the messiness of this season, Euphoria Sundays were something to look forward to every week, amidst deadlines and dissertations and I’ll miss that. Image: Euphoria, HBO/A24.
Fincher: faves and fails
Screen editors, Francesca Sylph and Archie Lockyer, share their favourite and least favourite Fincher flicks
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FAVE: ZODIAC
022 marks the 15th anniversary of Zodiac, my personal favourite from Fincher. I genuinely think that Zodiac is a masterpiece, Fincher’s magnum opus if you will. Everything — the meticulous direction, flawless screenplay, captivating performances, and stunning score — work together so perfectly to create a masterful mystery thriller. I’ll be the first to admit that I judge a movie by its runtime. If it’s into the triple digits, I’ll always find myself asking, but do I really want to watch it? 99 minutes and below is where it’s at. However, at over two and a half hours, Zodiac is an exception. I would gladly watch two more hours of that film and not get bored. Fun fact: hair was digitally added to close-ups of Jake Gyllenhaal’s knuckles because Fincher felt that his hands were too pretty and hairless (always having a fun Fincher fact at hand is my most useless party trick). Francesca Sylph, Screen Editor
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FAVE: SE7EN
E7EN was the film where Fincher stylistically came into his own. The pulpy, rough city of Los Angeles that Fincher creates has in itself lead to the creation of blockbusters like The Batman as well as excellent parodies such as in Community. Se7en has become, in my mind, the perfect blend of entertainment and art, with the gorgeous visuals paired with a plot so simple that it can be understood from the title alone. Yet Fincher doesn’t merely follow the typical crime-detective thriller, instead inverting the normal expectations of a inexperienced hothead played wonderfully by Brad Pitt with the retiring elder in Morgan Freeman, presenting the detectives with actual heart and faulty moral boundaries. As a result, Se7en kickstarted a career for Fincher that never really died, allowing Fincher to move to psycho-dramas like Fight Club and biopics like The Social Network with ease. Archie Lockyer, Screen Editor
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FAIL: BENJAMIN BUTTON
HILE The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is beautifully shot and Fincher’s trademark obsessive attention to detail is there, it still feels like his most mainstream and mild. I wish I could say I was curious (get it?) about how the story would unfold, but honestly I was just bored. They should change the name to The Boring Case of Benjamin Button. Not only is it more accurate, but I’m also a sucker for alliteration. The complete lack of conflict means you really feel the almost three hour runtime. Also, in the same way that I still have nightmares about the dead baby on the ceiling in Trainspotting (I literally just shuddered while writing that), old man baby Brad Pitt will haunt me for the rest of time. At the end of the day, it all boils down to the following facts: the tiny old man is scary and you have to wait almost two hours for hot Brad Pitt. Francesca Sylph, Screen Editor
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FAIL: ALIEN 3
OVING from Se7en’s stylistic genius to one that lacks any element of Fincher, Alien 3 was a directorial debut so it is understandable why this film is so astonishingly mediocre. Whilst on the surface, Fincher leads a startlingly good cadre of British treasures, everything is lost in blandness, due to the sole fact that by this point the Alien franchise had essentially faltered. The direction of the franchise had moved from Alien to Aliens, horror to action; Alien 3 tries to sit somewhere between the two. However, the tones of those films are so different, with Alien being a slow burning, nauseating trek as you slowly wait for the Xenomorph to slaughter the crew, whilst Aliens is an amazing, if not goofy, piece of entertainment where you watch in glee as Sigourney Weaver guns down hordes of underling extra-terrestrials. Overall, what truly kills Alien 3 is not particularly Fincher’s fault, but rather acts as a warning for fledgling directors entering a large franchise with limited knowledge. For great directors like Fincher, a big blockbuster can ultimately swallow any stylistic or narrative direction you may have. Archie Lockyer, Screen Editor