Spoiler warning: This story discusses the plot of the season three premiere of White Lotus.
With every season of White Lotus, there are always two big questions surrounding the show: Who’s going to die? And who’s the butt of the joke?
Assuming season three follows in its predecessors’ footsteps, we know who falls victim to the opening scene’s shooting until the end. But one episode down, it’s clear that this chapter set at a Thai health resort takes aim at the hollowness of luxury wellness and for-profit spirituality, and the people who spend massive amounts of money chasing their own well-being. Jesus said a rich man can’t get into heaven; I’m pretty sure the Buddha doesn’t have a saying about achieving nirvana for the right price.
That’s thousands of dollars spent on the one thing that money can’t buy.
This season the show follows a handful of Americans who seem determined to do just that. We have the very rich, very Southern, very cloistered, vaguely incestuous Ratliff clan (headed up by Parker Posey and Jason Isaacs, with Patrick Schwarzenegger, Sarah Catherine Hook, and Sam Nivola as their nearly adult kids); TV actress Jaclyn Lemon (Michelle Monaghan) and her longest-term friends (Carrie Coon, Leslie Bibb), who are certainly not envious of or judgmental toward one another; and shifty, grumpy Rick (Walton Goggins) with his naive British girlfriend Chelsea (Aimee Lou Wood). Along with masseuse Belinda (Natasha Rothwell) returning from season one (in addition to another surprising familiar face, but more on that later), they make up our guests.
While roasting very wealthy American tourists is intrinsic to White Lotus, this season’s setting of Thailand and its focus on Buddhism are key to the larger story; the presence of these real traditions and beliefs only sharpens the satire in Mike White’s series. Understanding a bit about Thai Buddhism and culture makes the show’s point even clearer.
Why Buddhism and karma matter so much (and so little) in White Lotus season 3
The central idea of White Lotus is that as beautiful as these resorts are, they do more harm than good.
These hotels are, at their worst, sites of literal death, and at best, gilded cages for the unimaginative. White Lotus travelers are people who want to visit a place — a country, a state, a beach, a paradise — thousands of miles from home, but also want it unnaturally groomed and tailored to be just as opulent and exclusionary as the mansions they live in. These tourists impose themselves onto a region, and their money eventually sucks the people who live there into their luxurious illusion — in season three it’s Mook (Lalisa Manoban, from Blackpink), Gaitok (Tayme Thapthimthong), and Pornchai (Dom Hetrakul).
Now that the uber-expensive, ultra-exclusive hotel is set in Thailand, touting world-class Buddhist-inspired wellness at fundamental odds with Buddhism itself, that satirical message is as pointed as ever.
“Buddha was considered so radical for his time, because he was against the caste system and was for equality for everybody” says Susanne Kerekes, a professor at Trinity College who specializes in Buddhism and contemporary religious practice in Thailand.
But inequality is the only reason a hotel like White Lotus — or the real-life hotels like it — even exists. The caste system that Buddha warned of undergirds the luxury lodging industry.
In Buddhism, external conditions like access to designer boutiques and on-demand blender delivery cannot be expected to bring happiness. Happiness, in the form of inner peace, can only come from within. If one were really looking for the kind of spiritual wellness Buddha preached about, they wouldn’t find it in the villas of exclusive resorts that sit on demolished jungle land. Yet here they are, going through the motions to find whatever gentrified, commodified version of nirvana exists in these unholy spaces.
Kerekes also mentioned a concept known as the “three poisons”: greed, hatred, and delusion. We all exhibit these poisons in some combination and they are, she says, “the reason why we are reborn and have not experienced nirvana.”
“They are basically what keep you here in samsara,” she tells Vox, referring to the Buddhist concept for the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. “And they are, ultimately, what you are working on when you meditate.”
Greed, hatred, and delusion could easily define the three sets of guests this season.
Timothy Ratliff and his family’s lives are all the product of his love of money. Rick seems to be harboring some kind of hatred or vendetta. As a recognizable actress, Jaclyn could be letting all the fame get to her head — or she could be forcing her similarly well-toned Gen X friends to hold onto deep denial about their collective age.
At the same, the three poisons aren’t rigid. Kerekes explained that those words are just English translations, and that there’s more nuance and broadness to the triumvirate. Greed could refer to material attachment, jealousy bleeds into hatred, and delusion encompasses similar attitudes, like living a life ignorant to Buddha’s teachings or being dull and uncaring. Through this lens, all the guests at the White Lotus seem poisoned — one way or another.
There’s also the idea of karma. As Kerekes explained to me, karma isn’t simply the notion of retribution or some one-to-one exchange of good or bad. Karma, translated from Sanskrit, means action. Intent also matters. The gist: What we think about — whether we act on it or not — is as important in Buddhism as the actions we take.
There’s a bit of karma in Belinda’s return; the patient spa worker from season one is back on a working vacation of her own, learning Thailand’s wellness techniques to bring them back to Hawaii. While it’s nice to see her get a chance to relax a little, the reappearance of Greg (Jon Gries) — going by the name of Gary — might mean another kind of karma is on the docket. Greg first appeared in Hawaii in season one, meeting Tanya McQuoid (Jennifer Coolidge) and pulling her away from her promises to fund Belinda’s business. In season two, Greg and Tanya were married, and by that season’s end, she was dead, apparently on his orders.
If White Lotus were more optimistic, it might seem that this season’s guests could eventually face their shortcomings, come to a better understanding of themselves, and live better lives. Timothy might go to jail for his white-collar crimes, leading his family to realize that money isn’t everything. Rick could let go of that chip on his shoulder and live a happier life. Jaclyn and her friends could be a little more honest with each other, and with themselves. Greg could finally pay for Tanya’s death.
But this show isn’t that.
White Lotus is about skewering the hypocrisies of the rich, but it’s also about recognizing that extreme wealth is an effective buffer for any consequences. These guests will never find nirvana, but they never believed in it anyway. They might receive karmic retribution if it existed in their reality. Instead, they can keep spinning around in their poison. These poor unfortunate souls are doomed to repeat the cycles that keep them tethered to this world — and it makes for good TV, season after season.
