A Review of The White Lotus Season 3, Episode 1: Pure Tension
The season kicks off with a level of stress that’s almost pleasurable.
Sometime around the 30- or 40-minute mark of The White Lotus’ new season premiere, what started as an entertaining watch—opening with a mild shock and just the right tint of humour—slowly began to simmer. Not an urgent need to know what happens next, but a creeping curiosity, the kind that settles in like a slow-burning tan. The show, now running with such seamless ease, glides by like an overindulgent resort stay—no real friction, no heavy lifting, just a languid drift toward the inevitable.
This season, White takes us to Thailand—presumably in business class. It’s a smart, if predictable, move: stunning light, scandalous beach parties, and an endless buffet of intrigue for spiritually lost Westerners. The new guest list? A mix of moneyed vacationers and the poor souls catering to their whims. There’s TV star Jaclyn (Michelle Monaghan), on a school-friends getaway with Texan housewife Kate (Leslie Bibb) and single-mom lawyer Laurie (Carrie Coon). The Ratliffs—financier dad Timothy (Jason Isaacs), his snobbish wife Victoria (Parker Posey), and their trio of privileged offspring—bring the requisite family drama. Charlotte Le Bon plays the beautiful but doomed French woman with a brutish partner, while Aimée Lou Wood embodies the free-spirited Brit entangled with a brooding Walton Goggins. BLACKPINK’s Lisa makes her Hollywood debut as Mook, a hotel staffer, caught in a will-they-won’t-they romance with security guard Gaitok (Tayme Thapthimthong).
It’s a familiar cast of characters, the kind you’ve met before, but with enough fresh dysfunction to keep things interesting. The Ratliff family—pressured parents, rebellious kids—echoes the Mossbacher clan from season one, right down to the generational clashes. There’s Hunter, the lone daughter, frustrating her conservative folks with a newfound obsession with Buddhist monasteries. Her father, Timothy, meanwhile, is unravelling in the midst of a work-life crisis.
Then there’s Le Bon and Wood—possibly on their way to becoming besties—bringing the same energy as last season’s escorts: sharp, fun, and often the smartest people in the room. As for the Jaclyn/Kate/Laurie trio, they slip right back into those old schoolyard roles—think Taylor Swift's “You Belong With Me”—a dynamic that’s both painfully familiar and, at times, surprisingly funny. Meanwhile, returning cast member Belinda seems notably more content in the first episode, while (Spoiler alert!) Gregory Hunt, a.k.a. Mr. Tanya McQuoid, carries a sense of something old, tragic, and deeply sorry about him.
Some elements really hit the mark. The pacing is sharp, electric—fun but unsettling in that way only true-to-life storytelling can be. You see parts of yourself in it, whether you want to or not. The performances? Across the board, stellar. Lisa proves she’s a force, no question. Meanwhile, Isaacs and Goggins, playing men perpetually on the edge, leave an impact that lingers. And let’s be honest—when Parker Posey graces your screen, there’s nothing to complain about. The show’s observations—on phones, plastic surgery, protein powder—are razor-sharp. You’ll either find them oddly comforting or just a little too close to home. Maybe both.
Each season of The White Lotus serves up a new obsession: Hawaii explored wealth disparity; Italy turned up the heat on sexual politics. That one was sweatier, raunchier—borderline debauched. This season? It’s all about spirituality—the way it can either elevate someone to saintly heights or drag them straight to hell. According to White himself, “This season is going to be so much darker.” And yet, I’ve never quite understood why The White Lotus gets labelled as satire. Mike White’s genius lies in gathering a group of interesting people, creating just the right friction, and then watching it all unravel over seven days.
Islands have strange magic to them—self-contained worlds with their own codes, customs, and whispered shortcuts. But for all their exclusivity, they’re incredibly fragile. Shift the balance—add or subtract the wrong dozen people—and the entire ecosystem tilts. Innocent guys like Armand don’t make it out. Good kids like Kai go rogue. And charming, well-meaning escorts like Lucia? They walk away with a fortune.
Mike White fills his island resorts with the rich and powerful—guests who believe they control their own destinies. It’s a mindset that clashes sharply with the Buddhist teachings that now surround these isolated figures. The idea that karma is real. That the next life will weigh you for this one. That identity is a cage. They can hide behind the high walls of an exclusive resort, tucked away on a far-flung island, but the truth is, true refuge comes only through community.
