Is The White Lotus 3 Critiquing Western Tourism in Thailand – Or Cashing In on It?

This week, the long-anticipated HBO series The White Lotus premiered its third season. The first episode draws from familiar elements of the seasons before: a corpse in the luxury White Lotus hotel chain, monied white families with nonchalant expressions, couples with questionable age gaps, and staff with strained smiles. Something bad is going down—the only thing that’s changed is the setting. After Hawaii and Italy, we’re now in Thailand.

Place is a big thing in The White Lotus—down to the opening credits, which see the camera pan across a Buddhist altarpiece. In an interview sent to Trippin, director and writer Mike White revealed he was drawn to the country’s intrinsic connection with Buddhism and spirituality.

“The idea that season three would be in a Buddhist country and grapple with some of the concepts of the religion excited me. The Buddhist ethos is very ripe with stories and characters,” he shares. The stories he’s explored, judging from the first episode alone, are imbued with sex and violence, with gunshots ringing out from the first scene.

The white lens of Hollywood has long exploited Thailand as a destination, with tokenistic nods to religion and spirituality

Despite his proclaimed fascination with Thai spirituality, White is walking a fine line—the white lens of Hollywood has long exploited Thailand as a destination where white protagonists are inserted into an alien world of crime, sex, and violence, with tokenistic nods to religion.

These tropes have exacerbated racism, negatively impacted local culture, and destroyed sacred environments. The Hangover Part II (2011) reduces Bangkok to a vice-ridden playground for reckless American tourists. Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (2004) mocks Thai women with crass jokes about them being abused drug mules and sex workers. The Beach (2000) views Thailand as a tainted paradise.

All three depict Thailand through the lens of colonial superiority. These films have left a lasting impact on outside perspectives, reinforcing harmful stereotypes and contributing to real-world consequences like overtourism—Maya Bay, featured in The Beach, had to be closed off due to damage caused by visitors.

While films like The Hangover Part II have reinforced a homophobic and racist portrayal of Bangkok as a hub of sex tourism, The White Lotus probes into a different type of tourist: the wealthy spiritual traveller. The Western longing to project their problems onto Eastern spiritualism has had a direct impact on tourism and place, resulting in the commodification of sacred traditions.

White is particularly drawn to this: “These characters are a little bit more existential and tragic,” he says. “It's a certain type of clientele in some senses, although it's not exclusively about those people, but about these people who are hoping to have this luxury vacation and how it becomes a much more fraught existential experience.”

If White explores this well, season three could provide a timely and harrowing portrayal of how Eastern religion has been haphazardly exploited by Westerners as a quick fix—something to be purchased but not fully understood. The White Lotus is in a position to confront this head-on: its special syrup is the satirical confrontation of Western ignorance.

Commentators are jumping at this narrative—Vulture applauds the opening credits and how they aptly highlight “the specific focus White has pointed to regarding this season—Western fascination and fetishisation of Eastern philosophies.” Yet maybe White’s critique of the West isn’t as clever as we’re giving him credit for—after all, this social commentary on Western tourists in Thailand isn’t coming from a local perspective, but from White himself.

In 2022, Hawaiian journalist Mitchell Kuga pointed out this gaping problem: “Locals appear as exotic fodder and naive natives to further white characters’ enlightenment,” and that any locals who do appear serve as “a clumsy and lazy symbol of colonialism.”

In an interview with The New Yorker, White seems to admit his own hypocrisies—he’s a wealthy white American who owns two houses in Kauai, in the same island as a certain tech billionaire. “I can make fun of Mark Zuckerberg—but I am also that person,” he says. He later admits that he wanted to shoot WL3 in Japan but settled on Thailand partly due to the rewarding tax breaks.

The White Lotus effect sees tourism surge wherever they are set. But at what cost, and who benefits?

Then comes the trouble with the aftermath of a The White Lotus season—a massive jump in tourism to locations where the series is filmed, dubbed the “The White Lotus Effect.” The filming location of season one—Four Seasons Resort Maui—saw a 425% increase in website traffic because of the series, while a lavish hotel in Sicily was fully booked for months on the back of season two. But at what cost do these sudden surges come, and who exactly benefits?

White Lotus season three is principally set at the Four Seasons Resort Koh Samui—and Bill Gates’ investment firm is the principal stakeholder in the hotel group. It’s already seen bookings skyrocket because of the The White Lotus Effect, but what type of travellers are arriving, and where does the money they spend go?

In October, HBO announced a partnership with the Four Seasons chain—offering multi-day The White Lotus-themed experiences for guests-cum-fans of the show. Meanwhile, Marisa Sukosol Nunbhakdi, president of the tourism subcommittee of the state-run National Soft Power Strategy Committee, gushed to The Observer about the “immense power” of film, welcoming its ability to establish Thailand as a premier wellness and spiritual destination.

The very behaviour that the show purports to expose is now being sold as a tangible experience to Western visitors

It all feels a bit off. The very behaviour that the show purports to expose is now being sold as a tangible experience to Western guests in Thailand. The preservation and protection of Thai culture and religion in these spaces are sidelined once again for the trends of the wealthy.

Part of the brilliance of The White Lotus’ second season was its plot’s engagement with its setting. Sabrina Impacciatore’s turn as the stressed and repressed hotel manager was up there with Jennifer Coolidge’s “evil gays” moment. The Italian nuances gave the show depth and wit—which WL1 missed by sidelining Hawaiian characters and local issues. So far, WL3 doesn’t seem to give much thought to exploring Thailand beyond ominous camera pans of Buddha statues.

Thai actress and K-pop superstar Lalisa plays wellness expert Mook, but for all the buzz generated by her acting debut, Mook’s story—a potential romance with another staffer—so far feels like the dullest of all the narrative threads we are following.

Right now, The White Lotus season three looks poised to do what Hollywood has always done—frame Thailand as a wanton playground for Western self-discovery. But if it wants to be more than just another glossy tourist fantasy, it has to prove it’s willing to challenge that gaze, not just profit from it.