Colin Sheridan: The White Lotus season 3 is over — and it might be time we check out of prestige TV too

The White Lotus promised escapism — but its finale left me longing for hope, Galway summers, and some actual joy

Sam Rockwell and Walton Goggins in the finale of 'The White Lotus'.

Watching Season 3 of HBO's The White Lotus  reach its claustrophobic crescendo, it occurred to me that my parents had the right approach to summer holidays all along: Why go to Thailand and stay in a luxury resort, indulge in mind-altering narcotics and risk invading the personal space of your siblings, when you can pack a Ford Granada, head an hour south to Galway, go racing and eat 99s out walking the prom every night?

To be clear, these weren’t the only two options discussed. One summer, a sister went to Torquay with the cousins for a week.

She came home with an English accent.

In the same way Angela Lansbury redefined calling to visit friends in Murder She Wrote (someone died, every single time), shows like The White Lotus may cause many a family or group of friends to take a beat before planning the next big trip. Or at least review the flight’s passenger list.

Once the first bottle of rosé is opened, home truths will flow. Old scabs will be picked and inevitably bleed. The dream is that we turn on the out-of-office to relax and find ourselves, preferably someplace warm.

The reality can sometimes be that the luxury location is not ‘warm’ but uncomfortably hot. That one member of your travelling party inevitably gets sick. That a lizard the size of a baby goat shows up in your bedroom on the first night, and with it goes any hope of a decent night’s rest. That’s why you go to Galway for two weeks every summer. No extreme weather, no iguanas, and loads of pharmacies.

The White Lotus is what industry people call “prestige TV” — high production values, strong character actors, opulent locations — a literal blank cheque for writers and producers, and emotional credit card for the rest of us who can pack our bags once a week and sneak a peek into the lives of others. And not just any others — others who look and talk and act like people so absurdly narcissistic, so wealthy, and so impossibly toned, we excuse our own indulgent visits into their messed-up world under the convenient umbrella of pure escapism.

Fine writing and golden hours may set it apart, but the show’s premise is as formulaic as any other: four distinct groups of people arrive at an exclusive resort for a week-long holiday. We know within minutes of the first episode that at least one person winds up dead.

We know, too, if we’ve watched previous seasons, that the show will give heavy nods to the Iliad and the Odyssey and astrology and tarot cards. It is said that there are only two kinds of stories: a hero goes on a journey, or a stranger rides into town.

The White Lotus bucks the trend in the most cynical way — there are no heroes. And, despite the wealth, golden tans, six-packs, and bottomless buffets, there are no strangers, either. We, the viewers, recognise people we know in each and every character.

We even see some unpleasant version of ourselves (brotherly love aside) because the main message of the show seems to be simply this: you must push people down the stairs to get ahead in life. That’s the only lesson anybody seems to learn. That, and don’t go to the hotel buffet after you’ve shot someone. It’s straight from the Succession playbook.

A hot mess of pent-up emotions and dodgy life choices, of families and friends playing psychological games of subtle manipulation. Of quiet resentment. Of weird white men living alone in Bangkok. The props are exotic, the themes familiar.

I’m glad it’s over, and its conclusion has me longing for something unapologetically idealistic and happy, like the return of Ted Lasso.

There is only so much cynicism one can consume for fun, especially in a world where pushing people down the stairs to get ahead is no longer some metaphorical folly, but a reality acted out by world leaders, demagogues, and oligarchs, with no fear of consequence.

It’s what made checking in on The White Lotus a little tedious in the end. We don’t need to watch good people die in shootouts in exotic locations to entertain us any more. We can watch the news for that.

Everything seems a little too real at the moment. Which is why we could all do with some hope.