Warning: Spoilers ahead. Do not proceed if you have not watched the season 3 finale of Euphoria.
“Euphoria” is over, and its bizarre third and final season has come to a close.
It’s the end of an era for Zendaya, Jacob Elordi, and Sidney Sweeney. The show features three of today’s greatest superstars, all of whom admit to growing up on the show.
But apart from the cast, this also marks the end of an era for television’s “writer” creators.
This edgy HBO drama was Sam Levinson’s singular vision. He was its creator/writer/director and didn’t have a writers’ room. That’s becoming rare.
Writer-directors such as Wes Anderson, Guillermo del Toro, Paul Thomas Anderson, Sofia Coppola, Emerald Fennell, and Robert Eggers are still active on the big screen.
They all have well-known sensibilities, themes, and styles. Just mention their name and they’ll know what kind of movie-watching experience you’re looking for.
Saying “I’m watching Sam Levinson’s show” creates a similar expectation.
This is not the case with “The Pit,” another recent hit with a traditional writers’ room. I’m not discounting the work of this medical drama’s creator, R. Scott Gemmill, but no one speaks of him in the same way.
Due to the performances of the two lead actors, a “heated rivalry” became a social phenomenon. The man behind the curtain, Jacob Tierney, is rightly celebrated, but his name doesn’t carry the same weight either.
The idea of a one-artist TV show has floundered for years.
When “True Detective” Season 1 became a sensation in 2014, its creator Nic Pizzolatto was hailed as the next big thing, but those hopes were dashed.
His time on the throne was short-lived as he was disgraced in the second season, which was critically criticized by the public. That show is still running, but the critically acclaimed fourth season (aired in 2024) had a different captain (Issa Lopez) piloting the ship.
When “Euphoria” first aired in 2019, Levinson also demonstrated the pitfalls of being a one-man army on TV.
It was notorious for its troubled production, including allegations of a “toxic” working environment, countless behind-the-scenes dramas and scandals, and a four-year production delay between seasons two and three.
Would the situation have been different if more people were in charge? It’s hard to say, but democracy is always better than dictatorship.
There are still big names on the small screen.
Take Taylor Sheridan, for example. Like Levinson, he has a reputation for a “lone ranger” approach.
The “Yellowstone” creator has publicly scoffed at the idea of collaborating with other screenwriters, telling The Hollywood Reporter, “I’m going to tell the story my way,” and he typically multitasks writing, directing and producing.
But recently, Sheridan delegated both “Yellowstone” spinoffs “Dutton Ranch” and “Marshalls” to other showrunners.
He has also been involved at various levels with other shows, including “Landman,” “Tulsa King” and “Madison.” He is not managing them all alone.
While Sheridan, like Levinson, was treating Yellowstone like a one-man army, the show was overshadowed by behind-the-scenes drama, rumors of feuds, and delays.
It almost seems like a pattern.
Other celebrities like Ryan Murphy and Shonda Rhimes also have television empires. When “Love Story” hit in the spring, it was billed as a “Ryan Murphy” show, but it was Connor Hines who created it. It wasn’t Murphy’s singular artistic vision.
“Bridgerton” is often referred to as “The Shonda Rhimes Show,” but it’s also not a solo effort. It has gone through various showrunners. The Mindy Kaling show is no different.
The idea of the “writer-TV creator” isn’t completely dead, as Lou (Zendaya) and Nate (Elordi) are appearing on Euphoria (too soon?).
Richard Gadd, creator and star of Baby Reindeer and Half Man, and Mike White, creator of The White Lotus, both continue to hobble the concept. Like Levinson, White also doesn’t use a writers’ room.
Whether you say “I’m watching the Vince Gilligan show” or “I’m watching the Duffer Brothers show,” it still means something.
Today, even when there is a writers room, more shows feel like singular visions from a particular voice (like “Severance” or “Your Friends and Neighbors”).
At its best, “Euphoria” can show what a show of singular artistic thinking can look like. It can be dazzling, unique, and cinematic. There’s a reason why we gave the world three of today’s biggest stars, and there’s a reason why everyone keeps talking about season 3, even if it was bad.
But at its worst, Euphoria feels like it was made by one self-satisfied guy who had too many cheerleaders and not enough people to say, “No, no, maybe we shouldn’t spend our time zooming in on strippers’ butts instead of giving Hunter Schaefer a real plot.”
“Euphoria” ushered in a new era of movie stars. It also dealt a deserved blow to the idea that television programs should be created by a single “artistic genius.”
Perhaps that concept should be buried in the desert with Nate.
