‘The White Lotus’ Season 3, Episode 4 Recap: Rocking the Boat
Time for our guests to step away from the resort and explore the wider world of Koh Samui
We’re midway through our stay at The White Lotus, and the winds of change are stirring on Koh Samui. Belinda’s son, Zion, is due to arrive soon, a reminder that the events of the first episode are now only a few days away. Rick’s set off on his quest for some Bangkok revenge. And the three blonds and the Ratliffs finally leave the hotel for some aquatic misadventures that might make some of them wish they’d gotten their daily massage instead. Most importantly, for those of us fixated on the dead body of it all, a possible murder weapon—and culprit?—is finally introduced. So, then, on to our first question:
Who’s the Dead Body?
Chekhov’s (er, Gaitok’s) gun makes an appearance early in the episode, when the trusty but perhaps not totally trusted security guard is called into a meeting with Sritala, his boss, and Fabian, the hotel manager. Fabian tells Gaitok that he’s gotta step up his game after the break-in, and to that end Sritala gives him a handgun—and not much else, really, other than the sage advice that he should probably learn how to use it. Let’s set aside the lax security standards at The White Lotus for now and turn our attention to what happens to that gun, which inevitably ends up in the wrong hands.
Tim Ratliff spends the episode numbing his anxieties with Lorazepam, trying to waterboard himself in the shower, and downing Greg’s (Gary’s?) liquor on a boat, but he pulls himself together by the end of the day to retrieve his phone from put-upon Pam and call his lawyer. The lawyer tells him that Kenny Nguyen is now cooperating with the feds, so Tim’s only option in this whole sordid affair is a guilty plea, which will likely result in a brief, cushy prison sentence and the loss of his job, his dignity, and that gorgeous house we saw in Episode 3. Tim, summoning up some red-eyed, righteous bluster, bellows, “I would rather fucking die!” (There are shades of Renata Klein’s “I will not not be rich” in this scene: HBO loves to see a rich asshole fail.)
Tim’s taking this call by Gaitok’s guardhouse—his favorite spot for a clandestine rage session—and when he stops his anxious heaving, he spots something that might make dying come a little easier: the gun, left out in the open by the lovestruck Gaitok when he walked Mook back to the resort. (And he left that useless gate open, too. Come on, Gaitok!)
It’s heavily implied that Tim takes the gun—he looks awfully guilty when Pam asks whether he needs to hand anything over to her. But, of course, she’s just talking about his contraband cellphone, which is guarded more securely than the weapons at this hotel. (There could also be a slim possibility that Greg took the gun; he was hanging out in the lobby at the same time.)
Could Tim use the gun to make good on his promise to his lawyer? Or could he turn it against his own family members if they find out about his financial wrongdoings? (It might seem far-fetched that Tim could suddenly turn the gun on his own family, but the case of Alex Murdaugh—another Southern blueblood trying desperately to cover up his crimes—proves that someone with a reputation and a background like Tim's is fully capable of killing if pushed far enough.) And one TikTok theory makes the case that the Ratliffs’ names point to a bad end for them in Thailand:
Let’s not forget that, in the title credits, the name of the actor who plays Lochlan shows up beside a man who’s floating in a pond—a little like that corpse in the season’s opening scene:
Coincidence? You never know.
A Wellness Check on the Guests
This episode represents our first foray out of the resort (other than that cursed snake show) and into the wider world of Koh Samui. Let’s start with the convention for con men and tax cheats on Greg/Gary’s yacht.
Rick needs some convincing to get on board, failing to recognize that the top prerogative of any vacation is to get your ass on a boat. At breakfast, Chelsea presses him again to tell her (a) why he’s so damn morose all the time and (b) why he’s abandoning her for a side quest to Bangkok. “You never tell me anything. It really hurts my feelings,” she says, with a bucktoothed pout. He softens enough to her daffy charms to agree to go on the cruise, but not so much that he’ll tell her—yet—why he’s leaving her behind for his mission. (Chelsea also just seems pretty distractible—when Rick does eventually leave, she quickly turns tail to party on with Chloe and Co.)
Before they make it to the open waters, Dr. Amrita intercepts Rick to ask whether he plans to sign up for another stress management session. When he explains he’s off to Bangkok, she tells him, “You have touched my heart, and I hope you will hear me when I say you are not stuck, you understand? You can let go of your story. You can escape the karmic cycle. Find peace in this life.” Maybe she says this to all her lost-soul clients, but it does seem to pierce through Rick’s leathery exterior and land somewhere near his excuse for a heart:
The Goggins Goggles are doing a lot of work there, even if Rick does his best to brush her off. He seems determined not to be knocked off course by the well-meaning women in his life, no matter how many times they tell him to let it go and live a little. But Chelsea does finally get Rick to tell her why they came to Thailand in the first place: It turns out that Jim Hollinger, the elusive owner of The White Lotus (and “half of fuckin’ Thailand”), was the one who murdered his father—or so said Rick’s mom on her deathbed. Rick’s dad was, evidently, a do-gooder who was trying to protect locals from some foreigner’s land-grabbing efforts, and he disappeared as a reward for his efforts. Rick’s here to finally do good by his dad (“Is this all a bit ‘You killed my father, prepare to die’?” Chelsea asks), even if he’s never quite lived up to his example. (Or so we can imagine, based on his contempt for everyone around him and that ban from Australia.) Chelsea asks, “What’s the point?” when Rick insists on going to Bangkok to track Hollinger down, echoing Dr. Amrita’s advice to “let go of your story” and end the karmic cycle.
I have to say, though, that based on other examples of father-son relationships on this show—e.g., the Russian nesting doll of Di Grassos in Season 2—Rick might be more like his dad than he thinks. I’m still not giving up on the theory that Jim Hollinger is Rick’s actual dad. Maybe his mom came up with that story about a white savior dad to give him a saint to live up to and spare him the reality that Rick was abandoned by a father who cared more about property development and a certain Thai diva than his own son. And now Rick’s abandoning Chelsea, just like his dad abandoned him, maybe so the two of them can face off Darth Vader–Luke Skywalker style.
Rick’s not the only one with karma and a heavy inheritance following him around this episode. Throughout their tour around Koh Samui, the Ratliffs are dealing with daddy issues, too. Tim is grateful that his own parents aren’t around to see his fall from grace. Like Rick, he can’t quite live up to the example they set—his grandfather was the governor of North Carolina, his father was a “very, very successful businessman,” and now Tim’s just a drug-addled embezzler with some creepy kids. But unlike Rick, it might be too late for Tim to break out of his karmic cycle. His bad deeds have been done, and he doesn’t seem too interested in atoning for them. Maybe, like Greg, he’ll try to avoid his comeuppance by staying in Thailand, which seems like a bardo for bad operators.
And maybe they could be one big happy family there! Piper finally tells Lochlan that she’s planning to join that prayer center she’s been circling once she graduates. Instead of trying to live up to her family’s reputation, Piper wants to sidestep it altogether. And she’s looking for an ally in her younger brother, whom she hopes will step up to defend her choice to their parents. But it seems like her revelation might have pushed him further away …
… and into the arms of their brother:
Saxon has no plans to abandon Lochlan; instead, he’s taking him under his wing, intent on de-virginizing him if it’s the last thing he does. “These girls are thirsty for some young fucking cum,” he says, gesturing to the LBHs and their trophy girlfriends.
Piper and Saxon are competing for Lochlan’s loyalties like two political candidates vying for the popular vote—Piper representing a self-righteous spiritual life and Saxon epitomizing pure appetite, BDE, and the pursuit of pussy. But with Saxon dangling alcohol and women, and Piper pleading for a punishing dinner with their out-of-it parents, it’s no wonder Lochlan follows Saxon’s aptly malapropist call to stay on the boat for the full moon party:
We’ll see what karmic groundwork these two end up laying; after all, sailing expeditions rarely go well on The White Lotus.
Jaclyn, Laurie, and Kate probably would have loved an invite to the full moon party. Instead, they get one of those vacation days where you’re getting so sick of your travel companions that you just can’t hide it anymore.
Jaclyn starts her no-good day with a voicemail to her husband, Harrison, who hasn’t been answering her texts or phone calls. She suggests that the gals venture out for some fun off the hotel grounds—if you’re hung up on the whereabouts of your much younger husband, partying is a more immediate (and satisfying) distraction than yoga. Valentin suggests a nearby pool that, at first, seems to have more going on than The White Lotus.
But Jaclyn barely gets to soak up some sun before she’s interrupted by two admirers the next lounge chair over. At first she seems to welcome their attention—maybe she hasn’t been getting recognized enough in Thailand—but when they reveal that both their husbands are dead and they weren’t “posh enough” to get into The White Lotus, she takes a look around and sees what is, to her, a horror show of sunbathing 65-and-ups. Jaclyn’s aghast that Valentin would associate the three of them—or her, at least—with “a bargain hotel for retirees,” and she makes a rapid exit, Erewhon tote in tow. Jaclyn seems determined to run away from any inconvenient, icky reminders of aging or death—in the mirror, by the pool, or, apparently, at overpriced grocery stores that’ll take you as close to eternal life as we can get on this earth. Show creator Mike White has said that the characters this season are “all dead, but they don’t know it.” What’s all this wellness and “just the basics” Botox for, anyway, if not to turn back the clock and face in the opposite direction of the inevitable?
Desperate to salvage her day of vacation, Jaclyn hijacks Valentin’s day, whisking him and her friends off for some fun that doesn’t feature anyone over the age of 50. He takes the ladies into town, where locals and tourists are shooting water guns to celebrate the Songkran New Year holiday. During Songkran, people give alms and do good deeds to improve their karmic standing, and they sprinkle water to bless the elderly and get their own blessings in return. But the three blonds just think they’re getting shot down with water guns by some impish kids, so instead of accepting the blessings bestowed on them as elders, they run like hell away from them.
The indomitable Jaclyn refuses to let the water guns keep her down for long: “What happens in Thailand stays in Thailand,” she says, when they’ve found refuge in a bar. “We’re not dead yet! We’re still young and hot and fun.”
But are they running away from death, or toward it? Valentin’s Euro-trash buddies sure seem like they could end up being the robbers who stormed the hotel in Episode 2; they certainly have a thing for bling, anyway. (And don’t forget that Valentin was the one who held Gaitok up at the gate while the robbers cruised on through.) Maybe Aleksei, who clearly likes snakes, was drawn to that choker:
Aleksei and the robber also share a strong brow and an allergy to understatement:
But before we try to solve the Russians’ crimes (of fashion or otherwise), let’s circle back to another lingering mystery. Belinda (the only guest who doesn’t get to have an outing this episode) can’t stop thinking about her run-in with Greg/Gary. As she tells Pornchai, she knows she knows him, and with the encounter still weighing heavily on her mind, she interrupts some poolside reading to google her old friend Tanya. And, of course, she finds out what we’ve known all along: Tanya died in Sicily, and Greg is wanted for questioning in relation to her death. It doesn’t seem like Belinda’s figured out what to do with this information yet, but she’d better hurry up about it because Greg’s doing some ominous googling of his own.
Microaggression of the Week
This week’s microaggression is just Jaclyn’s face when she realizes the ladies she’s talking to are old and poor:
And while we’re at it, two microaggressions for the price of one: Valentin didn’t have to say anything about the three blonds’ age to get them spiraling; he just had to send them to Club Med(icare).
The Nicest Mean Thing Uttered in Episode 4
The award for microaggression went to one of the blonds, so let’s give Nicest Mean Thing to Victoria this week. She’s very much out of her element on the boat trip, convinced that the May-December couples around her are not decent people. Plus, thanks to Tim, her Lorazepam is dwindling and her grip on medicated bliss is loosening. But in between complaints to her family members about the con men (and possible killers) she’s being forced to share a boat with, she makes a go at polite conversation with one couple.
Victoria: “So, are you two married?”
Girlfriend: “Nope, not yet. But we should be.”
Victoria: “You should put a ring on her finger.”
Boyfriend: “It’s on the table, is what we say.”
Victoria: “Ha ha ha.”
Like Victoria, I’ll cling to one or two people at a party and never let them go, even if I don’t like them very much. Her social anxiety is her most relatable, even endearing, trait. Southern moms: They’re just like us! And so she tries again with the same couple:
Victoria: “So how did you and … how did you two meet?”
Girlfriend: “We met online.”
Victoria: “My cousin met someone online, and he actually turned out to be a very decent person.”
She’s just trying to relate across cultural divides, but she can’t help but condescend—and then ask Tim how much longer this boat ride’s going to last.
What Are the Monkeys Trying to Tell Us?
Before their boat trip, the Ratliff young and their mother squabble over protein shakes, “gender goblins that tuck their dicks in between their legs,” and missing Lorazepams, their patriarch sitting dazed and berobed among them. Tim manages to catch their attention only when he leans back, loosening his robe and exposing his manhood for all to see. Lochlan and Piper react in abject horror, Saxon with his signature cackle (heh heh heh heh, he laughs, like a tropical bird), and Victoria with a languid eyeroll. Then we cut to this statue:
Which makes you think a lot of this moment from the first episode:
The Ratliffs are a little concerned by Tim’s visible unraveling—Piper and Victoria, in particular, ask him whether he’s OK a few times in this episode—but somehow none have remarked on the complete sea change in his personality since we first met. Once as puffed-up and self-regarding as a good Blue Devil should be, now he’s lolling on yacht chairs and slurring through that stodgy Raleigh accent and flashing his children. Victoria might be too lost in her own drugged bliss to pin him as the thief behind her missing Lorazepam, but their kids don’t have the same excuse. Maybe they just see his newfound softness as a welcome change instead of the tender underbelly of a man looking at what he has to lose.
In China and Japan, the three wise monkeys represent wisdom and purity, but in the West, we’ve changed the symbol to stand in for those who ignore the evil around them. The Ratliff kids sure act like three monkeys, but the “wise” part doesn’t apply. And their willingness (or need) to ignore that something is very off with their dad is oh so American.
