Welcome to the land of the American Dream, where the streets are supposedly paved with gold—though, upon closer inspection, they resemble an obstacle course filled with potholes that could swallow a small car. Even in the best of times, Americans avoid sticky subjects like class disparities and economic struggles, often leading to awkward silences and someone storming out of the room. Even if you muster the courage and decide enough is enough, the President swoops in with an executive order that practically declares, “Thou shalt not speak of class struggles or economic disparities!” It’s much easier for us to stick our heads deep into the sandy beaches of denial. “The White Lotus” (season 1) boldly dives into these complex issues but sweetens what would otherwise be a bitter pill to swallow. The show is so uproariously funny and exceptionally well-acted that viewers grapple with deep-seated themes involving colonization and class inequalities without realizing it.

Echoes of The Great Gatsby

White Lotus breathes an invigorating new perspective into Gatsby’s ultimate revelation that the American Dream isn’t the glimmering beacon we once imagined. Instead, it’s like wearing flip-flops on a rainy day—slippery, messy, and fraught with splashing puddles of disillusionment that leave you soaked and questioning your life choices. The conflicts unfold as Tom and Daisy careen among New York City, East Egg, and West Egg, leaving destruction and even death in their wake. F. Scott Fitzgerald keenly observed this societal phenomenon when he wrote: “They were careless people, Tom and Daisy—they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.” For Fitzgerald, the wealthy seem to take a page right out of a toddler’s playbook: create chaos like a three-year-old after too much sugar, throw a tantrum when reality bites back, and then—poof!—leave the cleanup to anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby. It’s almost as if they believe their riches grant them immunity from responsibility, like wearing armor made of gold-plated negligence while the working class is left behind in the Valley of Ashes to pick up the pieces of their shattered dreams!

Tropical Kabuki

In the wildly entertaining series White Lotus, the familiar hustle and bustle of Long Island and New York City is hilariously swapped for the sun-soaked shores of Hawaii. In this tropical paradise, the working class mainly comprises the resort staff—think of them as unsung heroes wearing Hawaiian shirts instead of capes. Although a few guests might be scraping by financially, it’s primarily the hardworking staff who make this lavish experience possible. Among these characters, we meet Armond, the resort manager, who delivers a gem of insight: “Yes. You know, it’s a Japanese ethos where we are asked to disappear behind our masks as pleasant interchangeable helpers. It’s tropical kabuki.” This quote perfectly encapsulates his absurd reality—a world where everyone tries to maintain an illusion so well-crafted that it borders on surrealism. The goal? To create an overall impression of delightful vagueness that can be both satisfying and bewildering. The guests bask in having their every whim catered to, while the resort workers and guests alike face existential questions about life choices. Yet, not everyone comes out ahead. Such is life at The White Lotus—a place where reality bends just as easily as Armond’s sanity after too much Xanax!

Who Would Bring Their Mother to the Honeymoon?

On the other end of the SES spectrum is Shane Patton, embodying the reckless, vapid, and infantile character archetype. Shane is so detestable that he could easily be mistaken for Jack Gleeson, the Irish actor renowned for his unforgettable portrayal of Joffrey Baratheon in the iconic series Game of Thrones. After all, Prince Joffrey has earned his place on numerous lists as one of television’s most reviled characters. Yet somehow, Shane might just surpass him or at least vie for a close second place in this competition for the most loathsome character ever created. It’s almost impressive how effortlessly he embodies that blend of entitlement and cluelessness that makes viewers want to throw their remotes at their screens while simultaneously laughing out loud at his sheer audacity!

Shane is on what should be the most romantic honeymoon ever, surrounded by the breathtaking beauty of Hawaii and his stunning new bride, played by the enchanting Alexandra Daddario as Rachel Patton, a freelance journalist from modest beginnings. Her blue eyes could probably melt icebergs faster than a global warming documentary! With her striking looks showcased in glamorous bikinis and beachwear, it’s hard to imagine anyone overlooking her. But here’s where it gets hilariously absurd—Shane channels all his energy into a ridiculous rivalry with the resort manager. He completely overlooks Alexandra unless it’s to fulfill some primal urge! In a move that would make any sane person cringe, he invites his mother along for this sacred getaway! Wouldn’t that be a deal-breaker for any other new bride? The groom invites his mother to the honeymoon? But Mom arrives at their beachfront paradise armed with unsolicited advice and endless coddling affection. She immediately takes her precious little boy’s side in every dispute, dismissing Alexandra as nothing more than a “trophy wife” meant to keep Shane happy. Honestly, can you imagine? It’s like bringing your high school principal on your first date—awkwardness levels off the charts! With all this chaos and possibly one foot still in childhood (if not both), Shane becomes an increasingly laughable figure—a rival stuck competing against imaginary foes while neglecting to appreciate what he has right in front of him.

When Alexandra sweetly expresses her desire to seek out something meaningful and impactful with her life, Shane’s mother Kitty—who is brilliantly portrayed by Molly Shannon—chimes in with some laughter-inducing wisdom that could only come from a concerned mom. She exclaims, “But what’s even the point? Those jobs are just asking wealthy people for their money! Your job would literally boil down to asking yourself for money!” Her words drip with sarcasm as she continues her monologue about how everything revolves around cash flow: “It’s all about money! It’s all about the money! The money, money, money…” In perfect comedic symmetry, Shane—a true mama’s boy at times (a la Prince Joffrey)—chimes in enthusiastically echoing her sentiments with his own enthusiastic chorus of “money, money, money!” It’s as if they’re caught in their own reality show where love takes a backseat to financial debates and childish rivalries.

The Boozy Swan

If nothing else, “The White Lotus” is definitely worth watching to see Jennifer Coolidge as Tanya McQuoid, the unabashedly neurotic and fabulously vapid heiress. Tanya has spent her life relentlessly pursuing her corrupted dreams and is gloriously stuck in her self-made sinkhole—like quicksand but with more designer bags! She arrives at the resort to ceremoniously dispose of her mother’s ashes, which sounds like a charming vacation activity, right? She makes grand promises to a poor masseuse who probably just wanted a quiet day at work. True to form, she ultimately leaves everyone behind for another flawed romantic escapade destined for disaster. Each scene seems as if Mike White wrote it specifically with her in mind; it’s as though he thought, “What would happen if I combined chaos with high fashion?” And boy, does she deliver! With the grace of a boozy swan caught in a hurricane, Coolidge embodies Tanya perfectly: neurotic and clueless in the most hilariously endearing way imaginable. She’s a train wreck we can’t stop watching.

Hard Truths Served with Hard Laughs

“The White Lotus” serves up a buffet of hard-hitting truths, garnished with a generous dose of dark humor. Each character is uniquely flawed, offering an entertaining array of quirks and neuroses that could bewilder even seasoned psychoanalysts. They endure traumatic events seemingly designed to make Freud himself raise an eyebrow. Amidst this delightful chaos, the wealthy guests navigate life’s obstacles with vapid self-interest, emerging unscathed from their misadventures. They somehow manage to come out on top, basking in newfound insights or personal growth as if returning from a life-altering retreat. This picture of privilege contrasts with the working class. When the rich leave the island on their shuttle boat, waving goodbye like in Fantasy Island, the working class is left behind, worse off than before the shuttle arrived. And if you didn’t think season one was crazy enough, season two is about sex. Stay tuned!