‘Euphoria’ and the Freedom of Youth

How the new HBO drama has portrayed the American teen experience

Rue fighting her melancholy, image courtesy of HBO.

*** Spoilers Ahead ***

The conclusion of the first-season finale of HBO’s Euphoria, the stylized teen drama bursting with hard-drug and alcohol use, queer romance, and intense violence, was shocking: the high-school-aged opioid addict Ru (played by Zendaya) decides against leaving home and relapses; snorting a white powder, she stumbles around her house into a dance sequence that serves less to satisfy viewers’ hopes than to set the stage for season two. Even still, Euphoria’s first season is a hit among young viewers and landed a quick season two renewal. In part, because it has glamorized the feelings behind teenage freedom and the pitfalls that come with it: highschool kids are free to apply dazzling eye makeup, meet strangers online, and consume dangerous drugs.

Ru’s struggle with substances throughout the first season is intense. Zendaya tweeted a warning to her followers the night of the premiere: “… Euphoria is for mature audiences. It’s a raw and honest portrayal of addiction, anxiety and the difficulties of navigating life today … Please only watch if you can handle it.”

In the series pilot, Ru, fresh out of rehab, meets up with fan-favorite dealers Fezco and Ashtray to purchase a psychedelic compound by the name of 5-Methoxy-N, N-diisopropyltryptamine, a molecule I thought was made-up but is very real — and far more dangerous than LSD or psilocybin mushrooms. Through time-bending cinematography with constant gliding movement, the show’s creator (and recovering drug user) Sam Levinson effectively makes this rare chemical compound, and its ensuing trip, feel as candylike as the characters’ eye makeup. And part of why it’s captivating: we’ve never heard about it before. When Ru and Jules (Hunter Shafer), her transitioning love interest, use the drug in episode two, the effect is pure, glittery escapism. It’s euphoric.

Rue and Jules sharing a tendermoment. Image courtesy of HBO.

But while Ru’s choice of substances is unusual, all of the conflicts in Euphoria are not. While Jules, a trans character secure in her identity with a mature sexual appetite and Kat Hernandez (Barbie Ferreria), a Tumblr fan-fiction writer turned online dominatrix present complex plots, these only amount to about half of what’s on-screen. It’s common to see teens on television abuse drugs, face pregnancy scares, and care too much about football. We’ve seen these themes explored on Skins, Degrassi, and Friday Night Lights. On Euphoria, these teens are different and more modern, plugged in and empathetic toward the LGBTQ+ experience. Even Nate Jacobs (Jacob Elordi), the show’s violently angry antagonist, shows animosity toward Jules that is sexually confused and rooted in family betrayal, rather than just because Jules is trans.

Hunter Shafer discussing the portrayal of trans characters on television at AOL Build.

Writer Ilana Kaplan notes that Euphoria is indebted to Degrassi, the Canadian teen drama franchise she calls “the Godfather of Taboo Teen Dramas.” Euphoria is executive produced by hip-hop mogul and former Degrassi: The Next Generation cast member Drake. Euphoria is the latest in the teen television pantheon to push the envelope. At times, Euphoria feels like Degrassi with an injected dose of celebrity. The show’s third episode drew controversy and headlines when we warped into Kat’s inhibited mind and saw an animated sequence of her most popular fan-fiction piece: an imagined sex scene among One Direction band members. For teens today, unlike those in Canada in 1979, it’s much harder to escape the thumb of celebrity, with every Instagram notification, a reminder of the lifestyles of the rich and famous.

All but one of the first season’s episodes open similarly, with a detailed backstory of each character, letting the viewer understand their past traumas all before the title sequence. Perhaps this is what the show does most effectively. A lot of teens feel alone and confused because of difficult circumstances. So many in high school have a story from home that would garner sympathy but are too afraid to share. Euphoria’s teens, all played by chiseled actors in their twenties, are free to share and feel what teens today do. Here, Euphoria can be therapeutic watching if not too triggering because of drug use.

Understanding antagonist Nate Jacobs, from ‘Euphoria’ episode 2. Image courtesy of HBO.

During these traumatic backstories, we rarely see the uncomfortable moment where one character shares their pain with another. It just is. Maybe there’s a secondary comfort in watching Euphoria that comes from the comparison to the real world. Yes, what the teens feel is close to real life, but the events and behavior of law-enforcement remain fairly unrealistic. In a weaker show, any of the stories shown could have been enough material for a whole series. However, with Euphoria, the audience is treated to five main plots that are dynamic in their grouping with each other. All these plots are pushed forward by teens making their own choices.

But this is where events in the show also feel unrealistic. Sure, most teens may know someone suffering from issues related to substance abuse, but would these issues happen at the same school where the star football player’s father has pedophilic tendencies? No character in the show is from a stable two-parent household, and no character is really happy. But teen brooding, melancholy, and romance is “cool.” Outrageous teen behavior is even cooler.

This is why Euphoria has captured the teen zeitgeist and left adults asking questions.

It’s what we want from television, surprising stories with relatable feelings.

Paley Matters is a publication of The Paley Center for Media.