Euphoria is back with more drama, but not everyone's buying it

After years of delays and mounting expectations, Euphoria is finally back. The third season premiered Sunday night with a hushed, emotional tone-opening not with neon lights or pounding music, but with a simple dedication to three key figures lost since the last season: actor Angus Cloud, who played Fezco; Eric Dane, known as Nate's father Cal; and producer Kevin Turen. The moment set the stage for a season shaped as much by absence as by spectacle.

The episode picks up where the last left off-on cliffhangers, in crisis-but with a new weight. Fezco's fate, left hanging after a violent confrontation, is addressed early, grounding the drama in consequence rather than just chaos. Sam Levinson, the show's creator, seems to be wrestling with the fallout of his own storytelling choices, leaning into quieter, more introspective moments even as the characters spiral.

For some critics, that shift is overdue. The BBC noted that while the show still pulses with energy, it doesn't quite reach the highs of its earlier seasons. The rawness is still there, but the novelty has worn off. Others, like The Guardian, were harsher, calling the new season "torture porn" and arguing that what once felt daring now feels desperate and self-indulgent.

Yet not everyone's writing it off. Deadline highlighted how the premiere manages to honor its departed cast with sincerity, weaving their absence into the narrative without melodrama. Zendaya and Sydney Sweeney deliver performances that feel lived-in and urgent, and there's a sense that the show is trying-haltingly-to grow up alongside its characters.

That tension-between evolution and repetition-is at the heart of the backlash. Euphoria built its reputation on shock, style, and emotional extremity. But after years off-air and real-life tragedies shadowing the cast, the excess feels harder to justify. Some viewers are asking whether the show still has something new to say, or if it's just recycling trauma for effect.

HBO hasn't confirmed whether this will be the final season, but many are treating it like one. Whether by design or exhaustion, this run feels like a closing chapter. The music is slower, the camera lingers longer on faces instead of drugs or sex, and even the color palette seems more muted.

For fans who've stuck with it, the return is still an event. But the conversation has shifted. It's no longer just about who's dating whom or who's using what. It's about whether Euphoria can move beyond its own intensity and leave something behind that lasts longer than a viral scene.