Still, White Lotus, Season 3, Episode 8, “Amor Fati,” Lochlan Ratliff reaching for the surface.
“Western dramatic climax was produced by the agon of male will. Through action to identity. Action is the route of escape from nature, but all action circles back to origins, the womb-tomb of nature. . . . Western narrative is a mystery story, a process of detection. But since what is detected is unbearable, every revelation leads to another repression.” – Camille Paglia, Sexual Personae, 7.
“But blessed are your eyes because they see. . . “ – Jesus, Matthew 13:16
“I look at you guys, and it feels meaningful. I can’t explain it, but even when we’re just sitting around the pool talking about whatever inane shit, it still feels very fucking deep.” – Laurie, White Lotus
I.
Superficial is not serious. For instance, a superficial wound may be painful but not life-threatening. It’s not that deep. What is superficial—or merely “sweeps over the surface of the waters”—is not really serious.
Culturally and religiously, the concept of depth is taken seriously. There is a constant stream of chatter about getting and going deeper. According to fitness guru Shaun T, digging deeper can get you that hot, toned body you’ve always wanted. Alternatively, if you enjoy the hit series Severance, you can get deeper by hosting a dinner party without food. These experiences of depth supposedly foster meaningful relationships and healthy minds and bodies.
I am not opposed to depth, meaning, or truth (I’ve worked out with Shaun T, and he’s not wrong). However, conflating truth, health, value, or legitimacy with depth tends to make one paranoid, anxious, over-earnest, and, perhaps worst of all, dismissive of what is there to be seen with one’s eyes. An obsession with depth is not inconsistent with anti-democratic instincts.
Getting or going deep may make you a fascist. Ok, but is it possible to find meaning in “inane shit”? Mike White seems to think so. White Lotus (Season 3) encourages us to celebrate and enjoy superficial pleasures.
Spoiler Alert! Important plot details of White Lotus (Season 3), especially of the final episode, are discussed below.
Still, White Lotus, Season 3, Episode 8, “Amor Fati,” Lochlan’s vision
II.
Timothy Ratliff (Jason Isaacs) is in deep. He is facing the collapse of his business and is on the verge of losing his family’s entire fortune. Confronted with destitution, he becomes obsessed with his family’s ability to survive without money and the status that comes with being ultra-wealthy. His wife, Victoria (Parker Posey), confesses that she can’t live without the finer things in life: “I just don’t think at this age I’m meant to live an uncomfortable life. I don’t have the will.”
Timothy’s son, Saxon (Patrick Schwarzenegger), seems to believe that his identity is tied to the success of his father’s business: “I don’t have any interests. If I’m not a success, then I’m nothing. And I can’t handle being nothing.” This is a curious confession because, in the previous episode, Saxon asserts that he is not one thing and is capable of change.
Mr. Ratliff’s daughter, Piper (Sarah Catherine), spends the night in a Buddhist monastery to explore her desire to live there for a year. She returns to the resort the next morning with vocational clarity:
Like, the food. I mean, it was vegetarian, but it . . . . You know, you could tell it, like, wasn’t organic, and. . . it was just kind of bland and . . . I don’t know, it was kind of like, ‘Could I, like, really eat this for a whole year?’ And then . . . . Oh, my God. And then I went back to my room, and it was this, like, tiny little box with, like, a mattress with stains on it and no air conditioning, and . . . . I don’t know, like, I guess I am spoiled, ’cause, like… ’cause, like, I can’t live like that.
Only his youngest son, Lochlan (Sam Nivola), believes he can live sans wealth. He seems somewhat believable because, after accompanying his sister, he is not offended by the idea of living at the monastery with her. Accordingly, Loch is the only member of the Ratliff family spared from his father’s violent “cure” for an addiction to wealth.
The cure for an addiction to wealth is located just outside the villa, growing in a tree. The locals call it the “suicide tree” because the seeds of its fruits are poisonous. People kill themselves by grinding and eating the fruit seeds.
Mr. Ratliff grinds up the seeds in a blender before adding them to his piña colada mix. He offers each family member, except Loch, who gets a Coke, one of his deadly concoctions.
Timothy does not want to murder his family out of hatred. Rather, they have conveyed to him that they cannot bear poverty and humiliation. Everyone agrees that safeguarding the family from life’s challenges is his duty and the primary way he expresses his love: “Um . . . I couldn’t ask for a more perfect family. We’ve had a perfect life, haven’t we? No privations, no suffering, no trauma. And my job is to keep all that from you, to keep you safe. Because I love you. I love you so much.”
Mr. Ratliff repents of his suicidal and murderous desires at the last moment, but the next morning, tragedy strikes. Loch prepares a protein shake using the remnants of the lethal piña colada mix.
The drink’s effect is intense on Loch; we are certain he will die from ingesting the seeds.
As he loses consciousness, Lochlan experiences fleeting visions of his sister and mother. His eyes close, and he finds himself underwater, swimming gracefully toward the surface as if emerging from a full immersion baptism.
He sees four statue-like figures gazing down at him as he swims beneath the water’s surface. Lochlan feels neither panic nor pain; he seems curious about the figures on the surface even as it becomes clear that he will drown.
Loch suffocates before surfacing for air in the arms of Mr. Ratliff. Lochlan tells his dad, “I think I saw God.” I believe what Lochlan saw was a superficial way of relating to (his) family.
III.
Lochlan’s revelation is one moment of an multi-season conversation between Buddhism and Christianity (along with psychoanalysis). Mike White, the writer and director of White Lotus, is evidently well-versed in Buddhist philosophy. As a pastor’s child—his father is Mel White, a well-respected gay Christian pastor and activist—he is no stranger to Christian theology (or psychoanalytic thought). Therefore, it is unsurprising that Lochlan’s vision is part Buddhist shrine and part Christian baptismal pool. But what is Lochlan reborn into?
What surfaces is Lochlan’s connection with his father. After nearly killing his youngest son, Timothy is completely sober—he is prepared to confront what he has been avoiding with his wife’s lorazepam: the collapse of his business and the devastating financial consequences for him and his family.
On the boat ride to the airport, Lochlan sits between his mother and sister on one side and his brother on the other. His father stands apart, gazing into the ocean. He delights in the spray of water droplets (an image of life and death in White Lotus [Season 3]) created by the boat as it glides across the ocean’s surface.
Superficial playfulness inspires Mr. Ratliff to address the four (un)known figures before him: “Things are about to change. We’ll get through it as a family. ‘Cause we’re a strong family, and you know, nothing’s more important than family, right?”
His question is not a rhetorical one. As he asks it, the traditional Christian Advent hymn, “Lo, How A Rose E’er Blooming,” plays. It is a hymn of hope.
Mr. Ratliff is hoping for grace. What is Lochlan hoping for?
Earlier, Lochlan explains to Saxon why he gave him a “brojob“: “Look, all you care about is getting off, and I saw you lying there, and I thought you looked a little left out, and I’m, you know, a pleaser. I just wanna give everyone what they want, and I’m in a family full of narcissists.”
I initially interpreted Lochlan’s brojob as an attempt to gain control over his brother. Now, I don’t believe it was a power move–or even a very serious incestuous act (= an expression of real sexual desire for his brother). The brojob was intended as an act of compassion.
Lochlan’s compassion is problematic because it stems from his need to please others, to shelter others from their intense feelings. The brojob is an attempt to protect his brother from feeling left out.
Here’s the thing: feeling left out is a formative experience for most of us, psychoanalyst Adam Phillips argues, as we develop out of our first exclusion. If we are lucky, we are left out of our first intensely desired sexual relationship, namely with our parents.
The Buddhist teaching he heard while staying at the monastery with his sister–and reinforced by his vision–suggests another way for Lochlan to use his hands:
Sometimes we wake with anxiety. An edgy energy. What will happen today? What is in store for me? So many questions. We want resolution, solid earth under our feet. So, we take life into our own hands. We take action, yeah? . . . It is easier to be patient once we finally accept there is no resolution (emphasis added).
Loch does not reach the surface—(his) family or belonging—until he stops taking life into his own hands. Striving to please others by resolving their intense feelings, he remains hidden in the depths. But what if he, like his father, begins to question the wisdom of being the source of his family’s satisfaction?
Still, White Lotus, Season 3, Episode 7, “Killer Instinct,” Saxon touches Chelsea.
IV.
In a previous post, I speculated that Chelsea is not entirely unsatisfied with Saxon. In fact, I argued that she unintentionally transforms Saxon into a lover. I further wondered what would happen if she allowed herself to acknowledge what is there on the surface of their relationship: genuine desire.
In episode 7, Saxon becomes a lover. He asserts that he is not just one thing but is capable of change. He asks Chelsea to teach him her spiritual ways.
While learning to meditate, Saxon reaches out and rubs Chelsea’s palms. His touch seems to evoke intense feelings. She quickly gets off the bed where they are meditating and awkwardly starts throwing spiritual books by her favorite author into Saxon’s lap (i.e., onto his crotch). Chelsea insists that he leave and read the books. She calls Rick, but he does not answer her call.
In episode 8, Saxon finds Chelsea sunbathing on the beach. She is impressed when he reveals that he has nearly finished reading one of her books—specifically one that contains “sex stuff,” which Saxon finds “interesting.”
Of course, Saxon misses the point of Chelsea’s surprise, and he reminds her that he is a Duke graduate; he can read! But what astonishes Chelsea is his sincerity, embodied by his actions. It appears that Sax is not just trying to get laid. She feels connected to him.
The author of her favorite spiritual books proposes a theory about how we belong to various groups made up of people we know and those we don’t, and that we somehow work together to “fulfill [a] divine plan.” Chelsea wonders if she and Saxon “are in the same group and don’t even know it.”
Just then, she spots Rick walking toward her on the beach. He has just returned from a dangerous trip to Bangkok. She abandons Saxon and runs to Rick.
It is a fateful decision, one echoed in the episode’s final moments. Now a multi-millionaire, Belinda (Natasha Rothwell) rides off into the sunset—leaving behind the man she loved and with whom she agreed to start a business. Belinda’s departure mirrors the late Tanya’s (Jennifer Coolidge), the ultra-wealthy woman from seasons 1-2 who agrees to loan Belinda money to start a business but then backs out and leaves her behind.
With Tanya’s money in the bank, courtesy of her surviving husband/accomplice in her murder, Belinda embodies the message of the song that plays as we watch her boat back to the airport with her son, Zion (Nicholas Duvernay): “Nothin’ from nothin’ / Leaves nothin’ / You gotta have somethin’ / If you wanna be with me.” The obvious irony is that the wealthy Ratliff family leaves the resort with nothing, while Belinda and Zion, who arrived with modest means, depart rich.
Leaving Saxon behind, Chelsea follows Rick to the grave. After he has gunned down the object of his hatred—who, tragically, is the man he imagined was the object of his righteous love: his own father—Chelsea finds herself caught in the ensuing gun battle. She is shot and killed.
Gaitok (Tayme Thapthimthong) shoots and kills Rick as he attempts to carry Chelsea’s body to safety. Rick falls into the water with Chelsea. Her body floats facedown toward the deep, while Rick’s lifeless face gazes at the sky as his body floats on the water’s surface.
Next scene: Lochlan surfaces; his eyes open, and he sees the cloudy sky above him–and then his father’s face. We assume it is the poison, rather than his father’s face, that makes Loch vomit before saying to Mr. Ratliff, “I think I saw God.”
Rick and Chelsea end up dead because they could not bear the faces of their lovers. Chelsea and Rick’s fate does not bode well for Belinda and Zion.
Yet, in my opinion, Rick genuinely loved Frank. When he abruptly ends his session with Frank (I refer to their meeting and Frank’s incredible monologue as an “analytic exchange” here), Frank asks, “Don’t you like me anymore?” While Frank has already jumped back onto “the never-ending carousel of lust and suffering,” Rick has nonetheless become an object of his love—a potential template for a loving relationship. Rick’s final lesson in love is embodied in his refusal to get on the never-ending carousel with Frank.
His experience with Rick brings Frank full circle. We last see him worshipping in a Buddhist temple. Failed therapy? Perhaps, but sometimes, our symptoms keep us safe. Life is very fucking hard.
Still, White Lotus, Season 3, Episode 8, “Amor Fati,” Laurie expresses her sadness and the meaning she finds in “inane shit,” like friendship.
V.
Life’s hardships contribute to the only clear relational success story in the third season of White Lotus. The only group of people we might truly believe belong together, to echo Chelsea’s spiritual theory, is the trio of blonde friends, what Mike White describes as the “blonde blob”: Jaclyn (Michelle Monaghan), Kate (Leslie Bibb), and Laurie (Carrie Coon).
Their friendship seems troubled by superficiality—but I argue that what genuinely distresses them is the shadowy depths. They spend most of their time hiding from one another. In those depths, they can only perceive the vague, shadowy figures of their adult selves. Their long-standing friendship feels suffocating.
As they share communion, a final meal together before heading back to the airport, their conversation is again disturbed by their unwillingness to surface. They shy away from the spontaneity that is characteristic of what pediatrician and psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott defines as the “True Self.”
But Laurie decides to surface for air; she decides not to hide her life from her friends. Laurie surprises Kate and Jaclyn with new words about God, the inane depths, time, meaning, and love:
[I]f I’m being honest, all week, I’ve just been so sad. I just feel like my expectations were too high, or . . . . I just feel like, as you get older, you have to justify your life, you know? And your choices. And when I’m with you guys, it’s just so, like . . . like, transparent what my choices were, and my mistakes. I have no belief system. Well, I mean, I’ve had a lot of them, but I mean, work was my religion for forever, but I definitely lost my belief there. And then . . . And then I tried love, and that was just a painful religion, just made everything worse. And then, even for me, just, like, being a mother, that didn’t save me either.
But I had this epiphany today. I don’t need religion or God to give my life meaning because time gives it meaning. We started this life together. I mean, we’re going through it apart, but we’re still together, and I look at you guys, and it feels meaningful.
And I can’t explain it, but even when we’re just sitting around the pool talking about whatever inane shit, it still feels very fucking deep.
I’m glad you have a beautiful face. And I’m glad that you have a beautiful life. And I’m just happy to be at the table (emphasis added).
Laurie embodies the wisdom revealed to Lochlan in his vision: she gives up striving. She can’t explain it. She is “just glad to be at the table.”
Her past, partly shared with her friends, no longer constrains Laurie. Now, she discovers meaning in “inane shit,” in the superficial stuff that “still feels very fucking deep,” revealed on the surface of their present friendship: “I look at you guys, and it feels meaningful.”
If Lochlan’s vision reveals a relational formula, friendship–or family–comes in fours. So, there is a place for us at the table, too. We are invited to join “the blob” and see if superficial friendship “feels very fucking deep.”
Still, White Lotus, Season 3, Episode 8, “Amor Fati,” Kate, dressed in red, looks out over the ocean as the “blonde blob” sails to the airport.
VI.
Mr. Ratliff is anxious about his place at the family table. He stands apart from his wife and children. “[A]nd you know, nothing’s more important than family, right?” Delighting in the play of the watery surface, perhaps he will see an important truth revealed right there before his eyes: family is just not that deep? It can be playful.
Lochlan surfaces in his father’s arms, but what, if anything, he makes of his vision (“I think I saw God”) is unclear. Is he willing to stand apart from the family? And finding himself there, sweeping across the surface of the deep, what new words will he learn to speak? What words will he learn to forget?
Forgetting is a privilege of adulthood. Children can’t forget, for example, that life is very fucking hard. So, kids use the deep end. If they are lucky, they are certain the figures on the surface are attuned and attending to their hiddenness.
Adults remember the depths. But we may also want to recall the playfulness of surfaces.
Superficiality reveals something deeply meaningful, something as close to us as the watery surfaces of our eyes: “inane shit [that] still feels very fucking deep,” like surprising forms of reciprocity, love, friendship, and faith.
