The White Lotus (2021): Season 1 Review

Scorch Score: 🔥🔥🔥

A Scathing Critique of Wealth and Power

The White Lotus has garnered critical acclaim, boasting an impressive 8/10 on IMDb and a 92% score on Rotten Tomatoes. Season 3 premiered on Max on February 16, 2025, and I finally decided to watch the groundbreaking first season that launched this anthology series. And I'm going to be honest…after the first three episodes, I still wasn't sold.

The show opened with a compelling hook: a dead body being loaded onto a plane. This mystery drove the narrative forward, even through the seemingly slow pacing of episodes 2-5. While some viewers, including my husband, found the slow burn challenging, I decided to trust the process and realized that the methodical storytelling served a greater purpose in building toward the season's devastating conclusion.

At the surface, the series simply employed wealth satire, sometimes at the expense of humor. However, this imbalance proved intentional, as the show systematically dismantled any notion of lighthearted commentary on the realities of class divisions. It's a serious subject, after all. In my opinion, the show's true intellect was shown in how it resolved its many plot lines, particularly in how the wealthy guests' stories wrapped up neatly, while the working-class characters faced tragic ends or dismissal.

This stark contrast between the characters was powerfully evident in Belinda's (Natasha Rothwell) arc. Throughout the season, Tanya (Jennifer Coolidge) dangled the promise of funding Belinda's holistic spa, only to ultimately dismiss her with a fat envelope of cash – a gesture that, while financially generous, ultimately reinforced the power dynamic between them.

Even more devastating was Armond's (Murray Bartlett) story line and his contentious relationship with entitled hotel guest, Shane (Jake Lacy). What began as minor service complaints escalated into a fatal confrontation, driven entirely by Shane's relentless pursuit of perceived wrongs. Despite being the aggressor throughout the season, Shane faced no consequences for killing Armond in "self-defense" – a stark illustration of how wealth and privilege could literally allow someone to get away with murder.

The characters regarded as privileged or connected to the inner circle of wealth like Paula (Brittany O'Grady) offered another pointed commentary on class consciousness. Her relationship with Kai (Kekoa Kekumano), a Hawaiian bellboy at the White Lotus, initially seemed to promise cross-class solidarity. Paula even admitted that the family she was vacationing with were not her true friends. So, she encouraged Kai to steal from her friend's wealthy family to fund a legal battle for his ancestral lands. However, when the plan failed and Kai was arrested, Paula retreated into the safety of her privileged position, highlighting how class solidarity often crumbles in the face of personal risk.

The show's exploration of complicity was particularly nuanced in the privileged character of Olivia (Sydney Sweeney), the daughter of the family that was burglarized and Paula's supposed best friend. Despite her performative progressivism and critique of wealth inequality, she ultimately embraced her privileged position, using Paula as a prop in her self-righteous narrative. The girls' final embrace at the end of the season symbolized how even those who recognize systemic inequality often choose comfort over meaningful action.

Rachel (Alexandra Daddario), Shane's doe-eyed new bride, perhaps best exemplified the show's cynical view of class mobility. After briefly rejecting her wealthy husband Shane – for being a literal piece of garbage – she returned to him, choosing financial security over personal autonomy. This decision felt particularly pointed given that she essentially pardoned Shane from any misdoing, embracing him at the airport at the end of the season like a scared animal, choosing affluence over morality.

The sole glimmer of hope in the first season came through Quinn (Fred Hechinger), Olivia's younger brother. After losing his phone, he formed genuine connections with local Hawaiians and ultimately chose to join their adventurous sailing voyage. Freed from the digital distractions that previously consumed his attention, Quinn began to truly see the world around him for the first time. His forced disconnection from technology became a blessing in disguise, allowing him to notice the breathtaking sunrises, engage with the local culture, and form meaningful relationships with people he would have otherwise ignored while scrolling through his phone. His later observation that American cities were loud and dead compared to Hawaii's natural harmony served as a critique of modern capitalism's alienation from both nature and authentic human connection.

I'm officially impressed by Mike White (director and writer) and The White Lotus. The intended themes were communicated through uncomfortable dialogue and scenes of ridiculous nature, and everything ties together in the final crescendo of all of the interconnected plots coming to a head. The White Lotus succeeds as a scathing critique of modern capitalism and neocolonialism. It illustrates how wealth inequality perpetuates itself through various mechanisms: direct violence (Armond's death), false promises (Belinda's spa), performative activism (Olivia), and willing participation (Rachel). The show suggests that class solidarity is often sacrificed for individual comfort, and that the wealthy's exploitation of both people and places continues unabated, merely adapting its methods for the modern era.

The slow pacing and flat jokes, although initially frustrating, serve to immerse viewers in the resort's deceptively peaceful atmosphere, making the ultimate revelations of violence – both physical and systemic – all the more impactful. While the show's dark themes and raw honesty might be best consumed in small doses, its unflinching examination of class warfare in paradise offers a compelling critique of contemporary society's most pressing inequalities. Yet as creators continue to craft such powerful social commentary, one has to ponder: will human behavior ever truly change? For every Quinn who awakens to a more authentic way of living, how many others will follow the paths of Rachel, Paula, and Olivia – recognizing the systemic problems but ultimately choosing the leisure of privilege over meaningful change? The White Lotus leaves us with this uncomfortable question, suggesting that perhaps the greatest luxury of all is the ability to witness inequality and still walk away unchanged. Who will you be?

After the Season 3 premiere on Feb. 16, new episodes of The White Lotus will air on Sundays at 9 p.m. ET/PT on HBO and stream on Max, leading up to the finale on April 5 (Forbes).