Content note: This article contains brief mentions of sexual assault and drug use, as well as spoilers for the show

Teenage hedonism, with its thematic ability to shock and disgust, has concerned the mediums of film and TV for decades. Now, more than ever, with the Euphoria season two premiere bringing in two and a half million viewers, young people are clearly aching to see validation of their struggles on their TV or laptop screens.

I had not watched Euphoria before; largely, I had cast it aside upon hearing the accusations of its hyperbolism, its romanticisation of addiction, and its unrealism. However, it was impossible to cast aside the onslaught of social media posts that mostly detailed the show’s fashionable cast, its dazzling costume and makeup design, and its contemporary soundtrack with artists such as Labrinth, Migos or Megan Thee Stallion. Euphoria has young people in a cultural chokehold, and I felt it close its grip on me once I watched season one and the first three episodes of the second season.

“Plotlines are racy, raucous and romanticised, where perhaps they shouldn’t be”

Immediately, the show inserted itself into the canon of what you might call “teenagers-screwing-around-and-screwing-up” media. Rue (Zendaya) lands herself in the middle of a $10,000 drug deal at the ripe old age of seventeen. Sydney Sweeney’s Cassie gets tangled up in a steamy affair with her best friend Maddy’s (Alexa Demie) abusive ex-boyfriend. Plotlines are racy, raucous and romanticised, where perhaps they shouldn’t be. The show’s situation inside this canon places it alongside similar media, such as Skins (2007), Gossip Girl (2007), and the controversial cult classic Kids (1995). It’s hard not to be reminded of Gossip Girl’s iconic use of outraged parents’ feedback to drum up more outrage for the show, by creating a campaign that used direct quotes as taglines such as “every parent’s nightmare”, or “mind-blowingly inappropriate”.

Might we have a similarly outraged response to Euphoria? Both Gossip Girl and Euphoria are purposefully making their target demographic see their lives through a hyperbolic lens to allow teenagers a glimpse of teenage life as they might want it to be perceived. When I watched Euphoria, I certainly felt euphoric, as I remembered being seventeen and comforting myself with the hope that my problems were that thrilling, and my life was that glamorous.

To sit down and watch the grittier, grimier Skins or Kids, both with their borderline-uncomfortably realistic portrayal of teenage sexuality and hedonism, you certainly feel seen — although at times you might want to turn away from seeing the screen yourself. There are certainly instances of hyperbole, particularly in Kids, where pre-teenagers are exposed to drugs, HIV, murder, and sexual assault. Deemed by The New York Times as “Lord of the Flies with skateboards, nitrous oxide, and hip-hop”, a film with “no thunderous moral reckoning, only observational detachment”.

“No young person wants to be lectured and brought to moral virtue through the media they watch”

I think that this “observational detachment” hits the nail on the head in describing what teenagers want to see on their screens. No young person wants to be lectured and brought to moral virtue through the media they watch. Even fewer young people would turn away from a show marked “every parent’s nightmare”, and Euphoria does, arguably, an even better job of this than Gossip Girl. There is no moral reckoning, but the show is not morally void. While the cast, musical choices, costumes and makeup are attractive, I think it is far more likely that the show resonates with so many young people due to its handling of the more poignant subjects of addiction, attachment issues, self-esteem and abuse, where it was incredibly moving and raw.

Simultaneously extravagant and down-to-earth, Euphoria’s glitz and glamour might be seen as overblown by some, but in fact renders it entertaining and relatable. Its more “polished” approach to teenage hedonism, in contrast to the grittiness of Skins and Kids, does not exactly depict a realistic snapshot of what it is like to be a teenager — but few teenagers want to see that.

Moral outrage is far more attractive on the screen to most viewers than moral reckoning, but Euphoria certainly doesn’t shy away from tinges of realism and poignancy. The show’s romanticisation of particularly unromantic issues in no way encourages similar action in its viewers. By dressing up very real and raw issues of addiction, abuse, and self-destruction in an I.AM.GIA outfit, rhinestone makeup and setting it to an R&B song, Euphoria differentiates itself from its grimier predecessors in the “teenagers-screwing-around-and-screwing-up” canon by romanticising and glamorising (rather literally) its darker themes to reflect how teenagers romanticise their own lives.

For the fifteenth anniversary of Skins last week, Kaya Scodelario posted a memory on Instagram (@kayascods) in which she summed up the experience that perfectly encapsulates the aim of Skins, Euphoria, and what it is like to be young: “It wasn’t perfect. Far from it. But f**k it was fun”.