Rue inhabits the most distinctive and, in some ways, surprising genre of all: a widescreen western, complete with expansive desert exteriors and a Hans Zimmer score that immediately calls to mind the work of Ennio Morricone. Especially compared to the murk, dinge, and gutter glitter of past seasons, it feels like the dawn of a new day. Rue is not exactly going straight and choosing life, though. A few years after graduation, Laurie (Martha Kelly), the monotone teacher turned dealer to whom she owed $10,000 at the end of Season 2 called in that loan, with exorbitant interest, forcing her to become a drug mule. Levinson treats us, in the premiere, to a long sequence in which Rue and her old buddy Faye (Chloe Cherry) choke down powder-filled balloons dipped in K-Y Jelly and suffer graphic gastrointestinal consequences. A quick study, Rue soon levels up to high-octane border crossings; one portentous scene has her jalopy teetering atop the infamous wall that separates the U.S. and Mexico. Euphoria doesn’t usually traffic in such explicit political symbolism. But, true to the show’s fixation on inner turmoil, the obstacle ultimately says more about Rue’s liminal existence than it does about immigration.