When it dropped into the middle of our second pandemic summer, HBO's "The White Lotus" was just what the TV therapist ordered.
Set in a gorgeous Hawaiian resort where only the rich could afford to play, filmmaker Mike White's enthralling 2021 black comedy was both weirdly comforting and wonderfully diverting. Like us, these pampered visitors were living in a "Groundhog Day" bubble, and it made them more than a little crazy. Unlike us, their collective island fever resulted not in fights over who polished off the last of the Peanut M&M's/hand-sanitizer/printer paper, but in soap-opera blow-ups, drug-fueled disasters and, finally, death.
It was stiletto sharp, scathingly funny and more than occasionally disturbing, and we could not look away. As it turns out, HBO couldn't, either.
On Sunday, "The White Lotus" returns for its inevitable second season. This installment has a new location (swoony Sicily) and an almost entirely new cast, but the sensibility remains the same. And as White once again trains his auteur lens on the Petri dish of the rich and screwed up, the second season of his Emmy-winning show suffers from being too much like the first and also not enough like the first.
Here comes the boat filled with high-maintenance passengers. Here are the members of the already beleaguered staff, offering Champagne and harboring resentments. Welcome, entitled bros, may the fresh air recalibrate your moral compasses! Take a load off, all ye restless ladies! Shop now, revolt later! And try not to mind the crime(s) that await you.
As the resort fills with upscale guests, the plot becomes thick with their overly familiar problems.
There is a trouble family featuring a powerful dad with a monogamy problem (Michael Imperioli), his randy father (F. Murray Abraham), and his sweetly fed-up son (Adam DiMarco).
Representing the younger demographic, we have tech-wizard Ethan (Will Sharpe) and his skeptical wife, Harper (Aubrey Plaza), who are wrestling with the ramifications of their newfound wealth. They are joined by Ethan's Alpha-male college roommate, Cameron (Theo James), and his relentlessly cheerful wife, Daphne (Meghann Fahy), who appear to be wrestling with nothing.
In place of the first season's sulky, conniving teen girls, we have two scheming locals (Beatrice Grannò and Simona Tabasco) on the lookout for a sugar daddy. The lone returning cast member is Jennifer Coolidge as Tanya McQuoid-Hunt, a befuddled, needy heiress still looking for love, acceptance and fulfillment, but settling for the transactional support of her twentysomething assistant, Portia (Haley Lu Richardson).
So everyone's here, right? Well, no. Which brings us to the big hole where the show's heart should be.
In the first season, the cast of broken characters revolved around the most broken of them all. As Armond, the Lotus' ego-stroking, problem-solving, grudge-nursing manger, the Emmy-winning Murray Bartlett was the purring engine that kept White's status-quo wrecking ball swinging. Armond was the guy who made sure his guests stayed coddled and clueless, a thankless task made temporarily more bearable by his spectacular fall off the sobriety wagon.
Things did not end well for Armond, but he did leave a mark. In more ways than one.
In the new installment, the White Lotus Sicily is managed by Valentina (Sabrina Impacciatore), who spends most of the early episodes barking at her staff and treating her guests with a polite tolerance they confuse for graciousness. Both the actress and the character do their jobs efficiently enough, but Valentina is not the center of anything.
A series that revolves around the separate dramas of a bunch of strangers needs a hub where everyone can gather, and Armond was that hub. The White Lotus Sicily guests don't know what they're missing without Armond to look after them, but viewers trying to invest in this less-focused season will.
Also missing in action are the class struggles that were at the center of the first season. Whether it was the simmering conflict between rich teen Olivia and her less-rich friend, Paula; the growing resentment newlywed Rachel feels for Shane, her entitled doof of a husband; or Tanya's heartbreaking betrayal of Belinda, the soulful spa manager, the first "White Lotus" was about the toxic baggage money can buy. Even (or especially) when you don't have it.
This time, the battle is gender-based. Everyone — the philandering husbands, the bruised wives, the nice college boys, the resourceful prostitutes — is burdened by old roles they are desperate to hang on to or itching to reject. At least the gay men seem to be happy.
It's fertile territory, but White doesn't dig too deep. Tanya's man problems aren't nearly as interesting as her codependent relationship with Belinda from the spa, and Coolidge's performance veers into bleary parody. Fortunately, Imperioli and DiMarco generate some palpable sparks as a flawed father and a son doing his best to be better, and Plaza and Fahy tunnel into their conflicted characters with a fierce tenderness that elevates every Aperol-sipping scene they're in.
The scenery is beautiful and the acting is mostly terrific, but "The White Lotus" is not the magical destination it was the first time around. If you end up calling the front deck for an early checkout, tell them Armond sent you.
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The second season of "The White Lotus" debuted Sunday on HBO and will be streaming on HBO Max.
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