Skip to main content

The White Lotus: Arrivederci!

 First, I made three predictions about this season--and I scored a 33/100!


That's a failing grade, but it's not a zero.

Early in the season, Mike White had Cameron screaming about his luggage. ("He just gets like this sometimes.") I guessed that Cameron would not be responsible for the killing, because he seemed too much like Jake Lacy. Having "the Jake Lacy guy" end someone's life just felt too repetitive.

Mid-season, my husband texted me with rumors about Greg engineering an eventual murder of Tanya. I said, "That just seems too elaborate for Mike White, imo." Wrong! When I finally accepted the reality of the murder plot, I was touched by Tanya's effort to help Portia, and I wrote, "Maybe these two will save each other in the finale." Wrong again!

I just want to mention how moved I was by Valentina's story. At the start, Valentina seems repressed and gratuitously mean. (She tells Tanya, "You look like Peppa Pig.") A misguided crush on an employee then puts wind in Valentina's sails. We might wish that Valentina would really study her employee's subtext, and at least ask, "Are you gay?" But how many of us rush ahead with our silly fantasies and forget to do our homework (on a regular basis)? That's life.

Valentina may regret the "employee" business, but, also, I think that stepping out on that particular stage is an important moment for the character. Valentina begins to understand (or to admit) what she wants. And she does get what she wants--in a transactional, real-world, limited way, from Mia. At the end of the story, Valentina is a bit less lost. She has something like "a plan," even if there is a great deal of work ahead for her.

People on The Ringer have noted that Mike White draws on his own life in his writing; White's access to emotional truth is the great strength in his work, and it's there even when the storyline is a bit absurd. The portrait of Valentina seems to be White's love letter to his own dying father; famously, White, Sr., did not come out until mid-life. How beautiful that Mike White has made this effort to transform his father's own halting, clumsy journey into a work of art.

Finally, as someone who is forty and feeling a bit at sea, I found myself cheering for Valentina. I'm on "Team V." If the "strega" can "grow," then there's hope for all of us.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...
2 comments
Read more

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...
Post a Comment
Read more