Euphoria: Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje on Laurie Calling Alamo the N-Word, Pig

SPOILER ALERT: This interview contains plot details from Episode 2 of “Euphoria” Season 3.

Season 3 of “Euphoria” has introduced a new friend-slash-foe for Rue (Zendaya). Played by Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Alamo is a strip-club mogul who rescues Rue from living her life in debt to Laurie (Martha Kelly) — but not until after he almost murdered her by placing an apple on her head and shooting it with a gun.

When Alamo calls Laurie to tell her he’s taking Rue away from her as punishment for accidentally selling hm drugs laced with fentanyl, Laurie and her crew don’t take it well. One of her cronies calls Alamo the n-word, which upsets him, but it’s not until Laurie calls him a pig that he gets truly upset. He spends the rest of the episode fixating on the insult, feeling truly wounded.

Toward the end of Episode 2, Laurie and her crew discover a massive live hog in their home. They don’t know how it got there until looking at the Texas flag in came in with, which bears the words “Remember the Alamo.”

Akinnuoye-Agbaje and “Euphoria” creator Sam Levinson spoke with Variety about whether it was God or the devil who brought Rue and Alamo together, and what it means to be a pig.

This season is framed around the third step of the 12-step addiction recovery process: surrendering to a higher power. That theme is especially present in Alamo’s storyline, as Rue says she believes God brought them together. Sam, you’ve said these ideas about faith came to you after Angus Cloud’s death. How did that tragedy affect your writing process?

Sam Levinson: Losing Angus was a tragedy. I spent a lot of time trying to make sure that he was healthy, and when he passed, I was very angry. He’s one of 70,000 people that died of a fentanyl overdose in this country in that year. There’s a lot of questions that poses as an individual who’s loved someone and lost them. What is this all about? What does this mean? And I think death has a way of giving life its meaning. You realize how much the small moments matter. The interactions, the good deeds, the way you talk to the people around you. It reveals how precious life is.

And in terms of “Euphoria,” I thought, “How do I how do I tell a story about that? How do I tell a story about what it means to be alive and to have the freedom to choose whatever path you want to choose — but there’s also the consequences that come with it?” In many ways, this season was about honoring Angus and exploring what the greater meaning of life is. And I think what it comes down to is gratitude. You gotta have gratitude for the small moments, for the tragedies and also the beautiful parts of life. It became the thematic backbone.

Adewale, how did those themes resonate with you as you stepped into the character of Alamo?

Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje: That character is Sam’s brainchild, and what inspired Sam’s vision was the Western iconography of Sergio Leone and some of the characters in those iconic films. Jim Brown, Eli Wallach, Woody Strode. We discussed about creating a character that emulated them and was a larger-than-life persona, but rooted in everyday Western culture. He wanted a practical man, but one that was inspired by the American dream: dreams of freedom, dreams of possibility, dreams of being able to become who you are, and as Sam said, the consequences that come with them.

I did quite a bit of research on cowboy culture — even from where the name came from, post slavery. Slaves being called “boy,” and when they herded cows, being called “cowboys.” Before it became popular through Hollywood. It was interesting to note that that may have been from whence he came, and that he pulled himself up from his bootstraps to build what he considered an empire. It really is about freedom by any means necessary. As a Black man in America, he really believes in that notion of the American dream. If you work hard — legally, or on the other side of law in his case — you can achieve and become who you are, but there are consequences to whatever choices you make.

And what he represents to these young characters who have left high school, some of them dabbling on the darker side of life, is that rude awakening. His relationship with Rue is a beautiful dance, because they’re from different generations. He’s a traditionalist in many ways, somewhat of a cowboy philosopher, and ruthless in how he’s built his empire on these strip club. He has things he can teach her. It’s something like a mentor-disciple relationship, albeit twisted and dark. And as she tries to find her way in life, she has things that she can teach him and offer him. Being in that entrepreneurial spirit, he sees an opportunity there. This is a generation that has come from social media and OnlyFans, and he’s always ahead of the curve. He sees how that can be an attribute to his empire, and he’s trying to assess how he can exploit people’s talents for his own ends.

And I think he gives her grace because he sees elements of himself in her. The ambition. The smarts. She is the only woman that he allows to come into his world, which turns heads, but it is because she has that smile and knowledge and potential, but obviously he’s going to utilize that for his own ends. And we’ll see who wins in that dance. He tests and shatters the naivety of this younger generation at every turn.

Alamo knows he’s taking a risk bringing Rue into his world. Sam, what were you trying to accomplish with the writing of their relationship?

Levinson: Alamo represents, in her mind, a better path forward than than Laurie’s world. Laurie’s world is dark and dirty, and it’s tied to her past and her debt. Alamo represents freedom to her. But at the same time, it’s not pure freedom, because it’s tied to desire. Alamo is obviously very smart. He’s a mentor-slash-father figure to Rue, but he’s also wrapped up in his own ego and emotion at times. The same holds true for Rue, where you think something looks pretty and shiny on the outside, but as you get further into it, it just gets darker and darker.

I just love the scenes between the two of them. Adewale brings a methodical craft to the character. It’s so lived in, down to how he sits. He’s intimidating, truly intimidating, on screen. And Rue — and Z is like this in real life — she’s very easygoing. So it was this great contrast between these characters, where you’re thinking as an audience, “Oh, OK, they’re getting along, phew.” And then you go, “But when’s it going to turn?” They’re totally different, but they share some kind of unique tethering to one another. And I like that she thinks God brought them together, and Alamo is a little skeptical about that, but as the story moves on, I think he begins to believe that’s true as well.

Let’s talk about Alamo and Laurie’s relationship. He’s so deeply wounded when she calls him a pig. It’s worse than the n-word for him. What’s going on in those scenes?

Levinson: I just thought it was interesting to play with the racial dynamics of these two crews. There’s this built-in animosity. With the pig comment, it just seemed interesting as an entry point into this man’s psychology. There’s something about it he can’t get over. He doesn’t understand why she would refer to him that way. Is it about his weight? Is it because he’s greedy? It opens up this insecurity in him that allows us to start to see how human he is. There are things someone could say to to any one of us that may seem insignificant, but it sticks in our head. It was a way of playing with the absurdity of racial dynamics, these miscommunications that lead to greater troubles.

Akinnuoye-Agbaje: As a man who pulled himself up from his bootstraps post-slavery to become what he regards as the emperor of his empire, it was interesting that “pig” was worse for Alamo than the n-word. For me, it was about trying to figure out why, and Sam gave me license in the scene. In so doing, it was like, “Why is this triggering his trauma? Well, a pig is an animal that eats its own feces. And here I am, the emperor, and she’s calling me a pig.” It triggered all of his insecurity.

By the way, in the season, we really get to delve into what formulated Alamo as he is today. And in this relationship with Laurie, he feels she should have nothing but gratitude toward him because he brought her in the game, and this ungrateful person is now calling him a word that’s triggering his self worth. He says to his men, “A pig is something that eats his own — do I look like a man that does that? Look at me!” It harkens back to him being a little boy trying to validate himself, and even having done that, the person who he least respects and who he would regard as a pig is calling him one. It’s a wonderful way to unveil the layers of insecurity, paranoia and trauma in Alamo — the bizarreness of it.

This interview has been edited and condensed.