Euphoria strips down in the best episode of the season so far
“Stand Still Like The Hummingbird” demands a lot from Zendaya and she delivers
I struggled with Euphoria’s first season, with its heavy-handed aesthetics and use of stereotypes for some characters. These same issues were apparent in the first four episodes of season two, along with the lack of narrative structure and use of melodrama.
“Stand Still Like The Hummingbird” is a stripped-down episode that focuses on one main plot-line, with only cameos from other characters. Rue has always had the best and most consistent character development. Series creator Sam Levinson has been open about the fact that he struggled with drug addiction as a teenager, and that he and Rue’s experiences are one and the same. Levinson has the range to flesh out Rue and keep her away from the stereotypes the other characters fall victim to on the show. Rue is wounded by grief and its heaviness. The pain is so deep, Rue will do anything to escape it—even if, as has been hinted at this season, drugs can alter someone’s entire personality.
As the episode opens, Rue barges into Gia’s room to question her about their mother Leslie’s knowledge of her weed usage. Rue and Leslie then argue about her pills and Rue searches for her missing suitcase. This opening sequence showcases Rue’s duality. She is selfish and brash; her mood swings are unpredictable, but her behavior is rooted in so much more. Rue’s tantrum as she rages through the house is clearly driven by fear of the retaliation she’ll face for the missing pills. But it’s also another display of the grief that was explored with the church dream sequence last week.
This week’s episode demands a lot from Zendaya and she delivers. Rue goes from anger to an overflow of tears in a matter of minutes. Her character choices don’t feel obvious. She never feels overly erratic; the flood of emotions is never off-base. Storm Reid and Nika King give equally compelling performances. Leslie is often criticized for not reacting more sternly to her daughter’s addiction. But viewers may have forgotten or overlooked the fact that Leslie is dealing with so much grief and pain on her own, that she may be worn down and too tired to rule her house with an iron fist at all times. Leslie is also holding out hope that Rue will recover; she veers between feelings of hope and anger as Rue brings her back into the cycle of her addiction.
Rue begins to break down and bring up her suicidal thoughts. This is the same tact that she used on Gia in “Ruminations: Big And Little Bullys.” She proceeds to gaslight Leslie into forgiving her by weaponizing her own deteriorating mental health. Gia gives Rue a disapproving look, as if she is disgusted by the familiarity of the tactics that Rue used on her.
Leslie reveals to Rue that Jules and Elliot have been there the entire time and have heard everything. Rue storms into the kitchen and begins to berate the two of them. She calls Jules a vampire, who sucks the life out of everyone. She says Elliot is a drug addict in his own right. The scene is heartbreaking because it is clear that everyone who is there clearly cares about Rue’s well-being and has her best interests in mind. But she obliterates these friendships in a matter of minutes. The insults she hurls at Jules and Elliot feel like projections of how Rue views herself—as someone who sucks the life out of everyone and a drug addict in her own right.
Leslie tries to bargain with Rue and takes her to the ER. Rue jumps out of the car and ends up getting caught by the police. This chase gave me anxiety and was the first time that I felt a real connection to what is happening onscreen during this season (aside from Kat’s dream sequence argument with the girl boss influencers). It is incredibly immersive.
Rue ends up at Lexi’s door before Maddy, Cassie, and Kat come in to join. She reveals Cassie and Nate’s relationship to distract from the topic of her addiction and relapse. This deflection from her own issues that simultaneously throws Cassie under the bus highlights Rue’s disinterest in others. While the two situations are not on the same level or equally bad, this scene is reminiscent of episode three, “Ruminations: Big And Little Bullys.” Rue’s revelation about Cassie is an easy way to get out of holding herself accountable for the destruction that she has caused, so she will care more about destruction and run. Rue’s argument with Ali shows the lines she is willing to cross, and how she’ll use the shortcomings of others against them—behavior that is the opposite of the care shown to her. Addiction has changed Rue as a person; she no longer cares about the effects her actions may have on others, only how those actions allow her to continue to use drugs.
Rue manages to get to Fezco’s house, but he throws her out after she tries to steal drugs from his bedridden grandma. She then makes her way to Laurie, who helps Rue out of withdrawal. We see again how Rue does not always value her support network, and how physically exhausting addiction can be. Both of those things can be true at the same time.
My sole complaint about the episode, and the series’ treatment of Rue’s addiction as a whole, is the omission of race. While Levinson struggled with drug addiction as a teenager, his and Rue’s experiences are not inherently identical. Sam Levinson is a white man. Rue is played by Zendaya, a Black woman. Realistically, Rue and her family would face racism (and misogynoir) as they deal with her addiction. This would be particularly true in the white suburbs where Rue lives with her Black mother, who is a single mom. It’s a reminder of how actors’ identities and the way they experience the world inform the broader story, whether it’s TV or film.
That oversight did not take away from my overall enjoyment of the episode, which is by far my favorite of the season. It took five weeks, but we finally got a cohesive narrative. Zendaya’s portrayal of Rue continues to be a layered and nuanced depiction of addiction and grief, the latter I relate to and deeply appreciate. Give Zendaya her second Emmy right now. When Euphoria allows time to explore one character, it can be poignant television.