Idol increasingly problematic with each episode. At this point, the show became a mixture of trauma porn and cultism. And there’s probably no laudable reason for it to exist.
Jocelyn and Tedros in “Idol” | HBO
Cultism. Traumatic porn. Home abuse. Care. Hate speech.
Spoiler alert for episodes 2 and three Idol
Episode 2 of Idol began alluding to Jocelyn’s unaired trauma of calling out to her late mother through the recording of the music video. But that scene didn’t humanize Jocelyn any more. She didn’t paint this blank canvas – a fading pop idol reacting to the whims of executives and a toxic boyfriend – with sharp strokes of paint, revealing layers of her humanity. Rather, it only served to freeze the flock of string-pulling puppeteers—their shock seemingly in place to signal viewers to react similarly. It was never about Jocelyn. Disturbed is in place to be agitated – to not feel.
Jocelyn’s pleas for her late mother are so artificially created for entertainment – willy-nilly, they play with accurate depictions of a broken psyche for growth. It’s as if the writers get some sort of masochistic satisfaction out of a fairly girl suffering. She doesn’t exist as a heroine, but merely as a storytelling device that sets the subplots in motion (and reinforces Tedros’s antagonism). And it only gets worse with episode 3.
At the start of the episode, Jocelyn talks to one in every of Tedros’ music fans about her mother. A single tear rolls down her face as she explains why she doesn’t write a song about her mom. She notes that her fans don’t desire to listen to it. They would not relate. And because the moment climaxes, this “girl power” scene – blunt in its try to convey contemporary culture – ends with a Tedros follower (more on that terminology soon) wiping a single tear from Jocelyn’s chin.
The two barely know one another, making this act of intimacy surprising and dishonest. Trauma surfaces for orchestration. There’s all the time development that can use trauma to bring the series back to its gloom. The scene is suspiciously over-sweetened. So sweet in its leverage for the approaching sadism. And what comes next is Tedros’ warped approach to freeing Jocelyn – an exercise in domestic violence that he believes will free Jocelyn from her musical purgatory.
At the tip of episode 3, Jocelyn explains that her mother used to beat her with a brush to motivate her. To get her away from bed within the morning. Convince her to complete the song. For her to stop drinking. She controlled her daughter’s life with physical violence.
Tedros asks Jocelyn if she lacks motivation, apparently catalyzed by the beatings, before asking her to retrieve the comb. She will take the place of her dead mother. In his mind, he’ll bring back the violence that Jocelyn’s mother used to revive her to the success she was. Somehow she believes it won’t destroy her? Or possibly he just doesn’t care whether it is – so long as he gets his newest pawn to maneuver across the board in response to his beliefs.
He is irreversibly twisted. It’s an unforgivable story that knocks you to your knees. Not since it’s effective storytelling, but since it’s ridiculous to succumb to a desensitized culture. It’s an try to shock a generation that can’t be shocked, and nothing else. It doesn’t make sense for somebody as delusional as Tedros to support this fallacy of logic. Where does this pseudopsychology come from? How someone within the writers’ room didn’t criticize this “treatment” – one which seems to exist in the identical ideological school because the Victorian era hysteria treatment – is infuriating. The yr is 2023. Tedros – through relentless sex and exploiting Jocelyn’s fragile self-esteem – groomed the young woman. He has managed to determine himself as a “hero against man” and all those around him bow in amazement to this rat-tailed messiah.
Tedros has a crew of musically gifted individuals who obey his every command. They do their best to elucidate this to Jocelyn in episode three, bringing to the surface the show’s previously cultic subtext plot. Like many cult leaders, Tedros has a vision that’s inherently improper to anyone on the surface. His cult relies on the idea that each one experiences, irrespective of how tragic, are positive. Bad experiences result in good art. It’s an old argument. However, here it’s greater than a theoretical topic of conversation; it is a lifestyle.
The cult exists to emphasise Tedros’ power. It’s nothing greater than an extension of the show’s resident villain. It can be higher if the conversation that brings cultism to light is left unspoken. Suggesting this allowed the series to take care of a level of secrecy as to why these people fell at Tedros’ feet. This allowed the show to steer viewers to formulate their very own hypotheses. However, by presenting this through dialogue, the show simply lays a weak foundation for viewers to simply accept what’s to return…
Within one episode, Xander falls for Tedros’ charm. With a little bit of an ego stroke from Tedros telling him he’s a genius, Xander is prepared to look at (again) as Jocelyn is mercilessly beaten with a brush. A recent cult follower so soon? An advanced mind so easily warped? Establishing a cult with such power informs viewers that Tedros has retained this power for a while – that previously he exercised equal and immediate influence over others. He is an experienced cult leader. His magic works fast. His abilities are limitless. There’s just one problem: it’s baseless nonsense that collapses within the face of haste.
And Leia, the one person willing to fight him, is distributed away along together with her recent toy, Isaac (before he ordered Jocelyn to get the broom). And she just goes! She gave no indication that she cared a lot for D that she would abandon her friend in such a vulnerable moment. But are we just alleged to swallow this character-defying garbage? You could argue he’s scared, but stay away when he hears screams? So as to not rush in or call the police? This shouldn’t be Leai, who just moments earlier – in a legitimate panic – called Chaim to elucidate the entire toxic dynamic between Jocelyn and Tedros.
Idol, with each passing episode, it travels further down the rabbit hole of controversy. For what? Shock? To trouble? For Tedros to by accident drop words like “delayed” simply because it’s an eye-opening term. Given his age, irrespective of how regressive and disgusting he could be, Tedros would not dare use that word. It’s a generational insult, making the usage of the word not only impetuous but downright implausible. So why say it? Why say a word that makes the oxygen within the room dissipate? Because people will respond…
Well, people react, but without reflection or thought. With indignation, annoyance and disappointment, as an alternative of giving viewers something to chew on as he did Euphoria, Sam Levinson just gives them something to spit out.
