When The White Lotus premiered its third season in February, fans were eager to learn what the visionary mind of Mike White—the show’s sole writer and director—had in store for them. The show has a reputation for high stakes and melodrama, but no arc has captured the audience’s attention as much as the “incestuous” brothers.
Each White Lotus season begins with a dead body discovered at a new location of the fictional White Lotus resort. Season 3 started with a shooting on the grounds of the Thailand White Lotus. The remaining episodes unfold in retrospect—unravelling the mystery to guess which of the resort’s guests will be the victim, and which will be the perpetrator. Will this season’s shooter be the grudge-holding Rick Hatchett? The shady businessman Timothy Ratliff? Or series-long villain Greg Hunt back in a surprise appearance?
But the dynamic between Timothy’s two sons, Saxon and Lochlan, has overshadowed this season’s mystery. In the season three premiere, Saxon—a creatine-dosed finance bro modelled in his father’s image—promises to help his sensitive, soft-spoken younger brother Lochlan get laid while on their vacation. Saxon then prattles on about porn his brother might enjoy (“Hot teacher? Bukkake?”) before heading to the bathroom, naked, to masturbate. On that walk—a cocky, nude strut indicative of Saxon’s confidence—Lochlan’s gaze lingers. Lochlan watches, unflinching, as his brother loads porn on his tablet before Saxon notices and shuts the bathroom door. The scene was hotly discussed—both in the online blogosphere and on social media. As though to further remove ambiguity, White begins the season’s second episode with Lochlan staring at his brother soundly asleep in bed, his bare ass sticking out.
As The White Lotus progresses, so too does this broiling tension between the brothers. Following a drunken dare in episode five, Lochlan eagerly kisses his brother on the lips. The next episode reveals that a drug-induced threesome during one of Thailand’s infamous full-moon festivals led to Saxon getting a handjob, to completion, by his baby bro.
Just days away from the season’s finale, we still don’t know how this storyline will culminate. But it’s the most transgressive relationship in a show that’s known for pushing boundaries—and one of the most mesmerizing.
I’m not fetishizing incest, but the brothers’ storyline is a shoulder-shake to a television landscape where queer characters are largely sanitized (the new Mid-Century Modern; Heartstopper; XO, Kitty) or tragic (Yellowjackets, Severance). It’s hard to find queer stories that don’t rely on clichés: the tumult of coming out/getting outed; the disorientation of queer rave/online hookup culture or the devastation of never being able to be/stay together.
It’s not that “brother x brother” is the representation our community needs. In fact, we don’t have any concrete confirmation that Lochlan is gay. Perhaps longing for his brother’s body is more about assimilation—him wanting to become the muscular, self-assured Saxon rather than possess him sexually. Or, it could be the first step into discovering his sexuality and, further, his most authentic self. But regardless, it feels original and fresh, with White—a bisexual man himself—tapping into something in the collective queer consciousness. Look to the popularity and proliferation of queer stepbrother porn as confirmation.
And White’s doing it on a mainstream level; not in an indie film destined to bloom and wilt on a queer festival circuit, but in one of HBO’s most popular shows. (The third season’s premiere alone raked in 2.4 million viewers, according to Variety.) And it’s not the first time he’s given his most sexually deviant storylines to queer characters.
In season one, hotelier Armond seduces his attractive, younger employee with drugs and promises of work advancements. Come season two, there are even messier queer dalliances. A musical ingenue named Mia sleeps with the resort’s female manager to get a coveted performance gig. The duplicitous Quentin hires an assumed rentboy to play his nephew in a convoluted murder plot, while continuing to fuck him on the side.
Through three seasons, we’ve seen no healthy, well-adjusted queer person, nor have we seen them as star-crossed lovers pulled apart by fate. Dealing in power, manipulation, secrecy and shame, The White Lotus’ queer stories are messy, unconventional and, most importantly, interesting to watch.
As a writer, White skewers all his characters. The secret sauce of the show is White’s ability to create an ensemble of personas—queer and straight—that are both cringe-inducing and redemptive. With his queer characters, there’s an additional layer: their queerness is an essential part of their story, not a footnote. These characters are getting sexual with people they shouldn’t—employees, hired help, fake relatives and real ones—to gain power, to seize opportunity and to reclaim youth.
While some dismiss the brothers’ storyline as pure shock value, I appreciate it for what it is: an inspired choice by a queer writer to interrogate lust, identity, fraternity and belonging. To feature a same-sex dynamic that is both uncomfortable and electric on a major platform. Though The White Lotus travels to a new country each season, its real expedition is into topics of queer storytelling yet to be explored. And for that, I’m happily extending my stay.