The success of ‘The Housemaid’ cemented her status (once again) as a Hollywood star, but the HBO Max series reminds us just how good an actress she is
Sydney Sweeney, whom we’re currently seeing on screen in ‘Euphoria,’ is an uncomfortable actress for some viewers. She refuses to talk about politics. At her mother’s birthday party, a few people wore red hats that, instead of bearing the slogan “Make America Great Again,” read “Make Sixty Great Again” in reference to her mother’s age: the more progressive attendees didn’t interpret the gesture as a joke but as a way of declaring their support for Trump. Furthermore, she seems comfortable with the sexualization that some creators, like Sam Levinson, subject her to on screen, embracing the image of a sex symbol.
And when a sensitive segment of the progressive movement sought to interpret the tagline of a Sweeney jeans ad as a racist statement (“Sydney Sweeney has great genes/jeans”—referring to her graceful appearance, not her Caucasian genes), she couldn’t care less about apologizing or explaining herself. There was even something daring about her reaction. Why should she have to apologize for an ad that was simply joking about the fact that she’s attractive?
Thus, based on her silences, her omissions, and her stance that she works in the arts and isn’t here “to talk about politics,” some have labeled her a Republican icon—for better or for worse. They’ve even dubbed her “MAGA Barbie.” This means that every time one of her projects premieres, some people look for ways to defend her while others seek to tear her down.
What if she releases a film at Christie’s, about a female boxer, and instead of entering the Oscar race, it turns out to be a resounding failure on every level? It’s proof that the box-office hit romantic comedy Anybody But You was a mirage regarding her potential as a Hollywood star. What if The Help is released and grosses $400 million on a $20 million budget? Suddenly, the critics fall silent, while it’s pointed out that Amanda Seyfried is the real star of the show.
The third season of Euphoria, therefore, arrives at just the right time. In 2022, between The White Lotus and this teen drama by Sam Levinson, the actress earned the television industry’s recognition with a double nomination for Best Supporting Actress—in the miniseries and drama categories—for two standout performances. And it wasn’t hard to see why she’d earned the nomination for Euphoria.
Cassie had delivered one of the season’s most viral scenes with her “Oh my god, do I look like I’m in Oklahoma!?” and its continuation into the cathartic “I have never ever been happier.” In an almost irreverent moment, Sweeney also embraced her character’s progressive sexualization: her car scene with Jacob Elordi was yet another example of the male gaze (that is, the male perspective behind the camera).
The episode that marked Euphoria’s return after four years could be interpreted as a provocation on the part of both Levinson and Sweeney. Is it troubling how the creator objectifies his female characters while simultaneously denouncing (and exploiting) the sexualization of women? Well, Cassie is placed in one humiliating situation after another, desperate to become a TikTok sex symbol, even if that means dressing up as a puppy, a sexy baby, or any other basic idea that pops into the character’s head. Accustomed to dazzling others with her physique and getting what she wants with it, Cassie can’t understand why this philosophy of life just isn’t working for her on social media.
Like absolutely all of Sam Levinson’s artistic decisions, nothing is crystal clear on a conceptual level due to the tensions between form and content: the line between exploitation and artistic emphasis as a tool for denunciation or reflection is extremely fine. It provides enough ammunition in both directions, allowing Euphoria to be that rare bird swimming against the current in moralistic American television.
In this season, which serves as a fantastical epilogue (or a “what if” sequel), Cassie is a hybrid of an OnlyFans erotic influencer and a “tradwife,” living in a kitschy, yellowed mansion that parodies the sexist fantasies of the ’70s and ’80s—the idea of having a wife and homemaker who waits for you, ready (for anything), when you get home. Cassie is inconvenient: she appears happy to submit to Nate, the quintessential toxic man, but at the same time asserts her right to sexualize herself to pay for the $50,000 bouquet at her wedding (and, incidentally, to attack her husband’s masculinity from a retrograde and hurtful perspective: he isn’t the provider he thinks he is).
For Sydney Sweeney’s detractors, however, what’s likely most upsetting is watching the third episode, seeing Cassie and Nate’s wedding, and realizing just how limitless the actress’s potential is when she’s at her best. (Warning: spoilers for the episode follow.)
It’s the anguish she feels as she walks down the aisle while her mother paints marriage as the worst mistake a person could make; it’s the mounting despair as her perfect wedding falls apart due to Nate’s debts and the appearance of a menacing mobster; and finally, it’s her reaction when she returns home to find a violent scene unfolding. “I’m bleeding!” she laments, while her husband is being beaten. Her comedic timing is priceless in this almost Tarantino-esque scene that elevates the entire plot to satire.
I don’t know if the actress in question has good genes or jeans, if she’s apolitical, progressive, or a Republican, but it’s clear she can be an extraordinary actress with the right material and director. Sam Levinson likes to showcase her, and there’s something fetishistic about it, but he also draws out superlative, complex, and award-worthy performances from her.
Sydney Sweeney could easily come across as ridiculous, yet she stands out as the most compelling actress in a Euphoria cast that has no weak links to speak of. If there is one, in fact, it might be Zendaya—who has won two Emmys for her role as Rue but also has a tendency to overdo the facial expressions.
