Olivia Is the Most Quietly Terrifying Part of HBO's 'The White Lotus'
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The White Lotus minor spoilers follow.
In HBO's The White Lotus, the Garden of Eden very rapidly begins its descent into Hell.
The satirical comedy-drama revolves around a group of privileged white people and their financially inferior guests, and the staff who dance to their every whim, at the eponymous luxury Hawaiian resort. The backdrop is dazzling, dancing between the manufactured splendor of the tourist honeypot and the outstanding natural beauty which surrounds it.
But Mike White, who created, wrote and directed the series, establishes an uneasy, strained atmosphere that builds across the six episodes, leaving you feeling frazzled and unsteady on your feet as the final credits roll.
Sydney Sweeney plays Olivia Mossbacher, the prickly, college-age daughter of Connie Britton's Nicole, a powerhouse businesswoman who spends most of her vacation rearranging their vast hotel suite to achieve optimal Feng shui. Olivia's father Mark (Steve Zahn) is a largely nondescript man who spends much of his holiday in the throes of an existential crisis.
Olivia appears entirely disinterested at best and wearied at worst by her opulent surroundings. It's merely the latest lavish offering on the conveyor belt of extravagance that is her life. It's not a perk but an expectation, just as her brother Quinn (Fear Street's Fred Hechinger) expects his mother to purchase a new phone for him after his careless actions render his old model kaput. He's not forced to endure a lecture about the importance of being more responsible with his possessions. One click and you shall have it all.
Sweeney's performance shares some DNA with Euphoria's Cassie. There's a magnetic, almost hypnotic quality to Olivia in the way that she speaks and holds the stare of those she's engaging with, and she's fully aware of the pull that she has. But unlike Cassie, whose base traits emerge during moments of impulse when her emotions burn bright, Olivia's cruelty is premeditated, and always lurking. She revels in it, as we see during her interaction with Rachel (Alexandra Daddario) by the side of the pool.
Olivia feigns interest in the journalist and humors her questions and observations, before flicking the switch and shutting her out with a smile that, if we were watching a Jordan Peele movie, would be followed by a moment of unspeakable horror. Olivia has no qualms about making Rachel feel exposed and uncomfortable. It's a source of entertainment for her, and speaks to a dark, unsettling aspect of her character that leaves you cold.
We also see elements of that in her relationship with Paula (Brittany O'Grady), her friend from college who is holidaying with Olivia and her family.
Paula is not only the sole Black guest that we're introduced to at The White Lotus, she's also only present because the Mossbachers have permitted it. The series interrogates race in both explicit and implicit ways, and the casting of O'Grady in this particular role was undoubtedly a deliberate move by Mike White.
Paula has a seat at the table, but only because the rich white family have permitted it – and even then, it still belongs to the Mossbachers because they're the ones writing the cheques. That benefit could so easily be ripped away from Paula in a heartbeat and as the narrative progresses, that threat is heightened.
She becomes romantically involved with a man called Kai, who works at the resort, the rumblings of which begins in the first episode when the pair share a flirtatious look across the dining terrace.
Olivia is also privy to that moment, but rather than sharing a conspiratorial grin or giggle with her friend, the moment is heavy with discomfort. There's no debrief. Paula doesn't prattle on endlessly about the smoking hot waiter, and Olivia doesn't create space for her to do so. It's not directly acknowledged, in turn casting their friendship in a new and peculiar light.
Paula begins slinking off in the middle of the night to meet Kai when she believes Olivia is out for the count, but Sweeney's character silently logs all of her exits. As Paula climbs back into the bed that they share after one of her confidential moonlight rendezvous, Olivia's eyes open, hovering like saucers in the gloom.
When she questions her, Paula fabricates a story, unwilling to disclose where she has been. The pair might be sleeping beside one another, but there is a gulf between them that becomes more acute with every episode.
The reason for that distinct lack of trust is later revealed and while the details are scarce, it speaks to the heart of who Olivia is and how she perceives Paula. Her growing frustration that she doesn't confide in her is less about concern regarding secrets and mistruths, and more about loss of power and control on two fronts. Paula exists independently of Olivia, and the young Mossbacher is of no interest to Kai. It's an assault on her worldview, in which she is the centerpiece.
After observing Paula and Kai under the cover of darkness from afar, like a cat tracking its prey in the long grass, she stalks off as a score saturated with frantic tribal drumbeat kicks in, signaling disquiet and rage. As a powerless onlooker, you suddenly feel concerned for Paula.
Like so many of Olivia's behaviors, there is no tangible threat and yet, she remains ever-threatening. It's a credit to both the casting director and Sweeney's performance, which inverts the girl next door persona to invoke the discomfort that is so central to The White Lotus.
Olivia might look like butter wouldn't melt, but that's precisely what makes her so menacing.
The White Lotus streams on HBO and HBO Max in the US. A UK broadcaster and premiere date are yet to be confirmed.
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