Euphoria Season 1 - Episode 3 ✔
Jacob Elordi, previously known for the The Kissing Booth franchise, sheds his heartthrob skin entirely. Nate is a coiled snake. The episode reveals more of his relationship with his father, Cal (Eric Dane), who we saw in Episode 2 watching videos of himself having sex with underage teens (including Jules). Nate knows about the videos. He has organized them on a hard drive.
In a scene that is pure Hitchcockian dread, Nate has dinner with Maddy and her parents. The small talk is excruciating. Maddy’s mother admires how polite Nate is. Nate smiles, perfectly. The camera holds on his eyes—dead, calculating. He is performing masculinity as a sociopath learns it: by mimicry. Euphoria Season 1 - Episode 3
We flashback to Maddy at a pool party when she was 14. A boy tries to pressure her into giving him a blowjob. She refuses, but the social pressure is suffocating. Then we cut to a beauty pageant when she was 8. She is asked by a male host what she wants to be when she grows up. “Famous,” she says. Then, without missing a beat, the host asks a young boy the same question. He says “President.” Jacob Elordi, previously known for the The Kissing
When Euphoria premiered on HBO in June 2019, it arrived with the force of a gut punch. The Sam Levinson-created drama, dripping in neon and nihilism, immediately divided critics and audiences with its graphic depiction of teenage life. The pilot introduced us to Rue Bennett (Zendaya), a freshly sober drug addict adrift in a world of sex, social media, and trauma. The second episode expanded the ensemble, giving heartbreaking depth to Jules (Hunter Schafer) and the volatile Nate Jacobs (Jacob Elordi). Nate knows about the videos
But it is the third episode, titled (directed by Sam Levinson and written by Levinson), where the show stops establishing its premise and drives the knife in. This is the episode where the fairy tale of young love curdles into codependency, where the consequences of violence begin to ripple outward, and where the audience realizes that Euphoria is not a cautionary tale—it is a tragedy playing out in slow motion.