Euphoria Review

Marcell Rév's photography is the reason people watch. Neon and fairy lights, long fluid takes through party houses, faces lit in single colours, and a glitter heavy makeup design that spread far beyond the show, all of it more ambitious than anything else on television at this budget. Zendaya deserves the awards; her narration of an addict who is lying to the audience as fluently as to everyone else is the show's best structural idea. Hunter Schafer, Colman Domingo and Angus Cloud are all superb, and the episode set entirely in a diner between a sponsor and a relapsing addict is the finest thing here.

The problem is Levinson. The second season abandons plot for extended set pieces, characters disappear for weeks, several actors have described a chaotic process, and the series increasingly aestheticises the drug use and self destruction it claims to be examining. The nudity and degradation are frequent enough to have become a talking point in their own right. Gorgeous, sincere in patches, and structurally unwell.