Warning: To say that this article contains spoilers would be an understatement.

Setting the Bar in Sicily

Let me start by saying that I absolutely loved The White Lotus Season 2. It was the best TV I’d watched in years. So much so that I dedicated a whole session of the “6-Month Episodic TV” course to breaking down its character arcs: how they felt rich, complete, and thematically cohesive.

Each storyline explored sexual politics and power dynamics with such clarity and suspense, intersecting beautifully with the central theme to offer a rich and satisfying dramatic interrogation.

It had me hooked up until the very last moment, where the body in the water (the now classic Lotusian cold open device designed to have the audience asking “who’s body is that?” and “how did we get here?” so that you’ll stick around to the finale to find out) could really have been anyone out of the glittering array of characters.

So as you can imagine, I was really excited about TWL3, and sat down to it having done my best to avoid anything on the internet that might give away the identity of the corpse floating in the Thai hotel’s jungle waterways.

Sawadee Khắp Thailand

On paper, The White Lotus 3 had everything. A luscious new location. A phenomenal cast of newcomers: Rick and his warm-hearted girlfriend Chelsea; the wealthy, sexually-charged Ratliff brothers Saxon and Lochlan; the wellness-return of Belinda (hello again), and returning villain Greg, now posing as “Gary,” Tanya’ Mcquoid’s weaselly widower. 

Shots are fired, a body hangs in the water, let’s go!

And then suddenly, just like that, out of nowhere - nothing really happened.

Chekhov’s Gun

Anton Chekhov famously said something like: “If a gun is on the mantelpiece in the first act, it must go off in the third.” It’s a storytelling rule about payoff: don’t introduce something unless it serves a purpose later. And I’d add the reverse: if something is going to explode in Act 3, you have to set it up early. This is how we avoid the dreaded deus ex machina ending: surprises that feel unearned, because the groundwork wasn't laid.

The White Lotus 3 flirted with setup after setup, metaphorical mantelpieces groaning with Chekhovian guns, and then... just sort of wandered off to get a massage.

Let’s look at a few examples.

1. The Ratliff Brothers: Incest with No Consequences

From episode one, Lachlan’s hungry glances at his brother Saxon’s body telegraph the unspoken taboo at the heart of their dynamic. It all comes to a head (literally) when he gives his brother a handjob during a threesome. Gross? Yes. Dramatic? Possibly. But after a brief “that was weird” chat, it’s... never mentioned again.

No fallout. No reckoning. No spiral of shame or violence. Just a plot beat that seemed to disappear into the spa mist.

2. The Poison Seeds That Didn’t Kill

In episode one, we learn about the lethal pong pong seeds therefore, Chekhov demands someone eat them later. Sure enough, Lachlan accidentally eats them... and then doesn’t die. Not even a hospitalisation. Ok, he meets God but doesn’t have much to say about that either. I actually wish he had died because then I would have felt something.