The Real Villain in "The White Lotus" This Season? Aging

There's something sinister lurking behind the tranquil mountains of Koh Samui, hidden in plain sight among the koi ponds and palm trees surrounding season three's "The White Lotus" resort. It's not someone's impending death (too obvious), nor the pig-tailed monkeys peering in from the trees (too cute). No, the real villain to emerge this season seems to be something far more universal: aging.

There are thinly veiled references to society's obsession with youth in every episode thus far, although you see it most blatantly among trio of "friends" Jaclyn, Kate, and Laurie (played by Michelle Monaghan, Leslie Bibb, and Carrie Coon, respectively).

At first, the nods were subtle: the back-and-forth "You look amazing," "No, you look amazing!" between Kate and Jaclyn in episode one, which felt more like watching the pointing Spider-Man meme play out in real time than anything particularly harmful — at least not until Laurie added, "You look like you just got pushed out of a birth canal." Then there was Kate's "Did she sandblast her face or something?" about Jaclyn after neither refused to divulge what work they've had done in episode two. When Laurie announced her biomarker test results showed numbers of "women half her age," I swear Jaclyn's side eye was one twitch away from blowing a fuse from the shock.

The most flagrant display, however, came in episode four, when the suspiciously chiseled wellness resort man Valentin sent the three women to an all-inclusive nearby. Jaclyn, feeling rejected by her hot, younger husband and in pursuit of a good time, happily settled in to her lounge chair . . . and then she looked around. It took her all but 39 seconds to experience a damn-near panic attack at all the fine lines and wrinkles looking back at her.

Of course, nothing director Mike White does is an accident. It's clear he wanted Jaclyn sent somewhere that would turn on the proverbial neon sign that she, too, is getting older. That fear — of aging, of being less desirable, of no longer looking like you just emerged from a birth canal — perfectly captures the reality of youth culture we're all living in.

It would be hard not to relate: every day, beauty brands introduce products that promise to "visibly firm" and "restore bounce" and "smooth facial contours," and, wait, they also "brighten" and "lift" and "plump" the skin for a "younger, more radiant look" that appears "well rested" and "fresh faced" and "glowing." Part of it is generational, sure — everyone knows somebody who considers being called "old" an insult — but society has stigmatized aging to a point where even 10-year-olds are lining up to buy eye cream. If you're not sandblasting your face, you're most definitely slathering or slugging or snipping. Right? Anything other than simply existing.

If you look around at the gaggle of older men on a yacht with their infinitely younger girlfriends, you'll remember that "The White Lotus" is all about perception and exposing our innermost fears. When you realize we've grown up being told that our worth is tied to youth and beauty, that a body that presents as half its biological age must mean a healthier or better body, you might be tempted to forget the alternative of getting older: dying.

You can drown out that truth in a sensory deprivation tank, or you can accept that aging is inevitable. It's not scary or evil or out to get you. That would be whoever is on the other side of the koi pond.