Jacob Elordi has shared a funny anecdote about why “Euphoria” creator and director Sam Levinson brought him back for the show’s third installment.

The actor joked that Levinson made the decision simply to “torture” him, referring to the treatment his character, Nate Jacobs, receives at the hands of the ruthless antagonist Naz.

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Elordi’s time on “Euphoria” may have come to an end, but the actor still vividly remembers how bizarre his character’s final chapter became.

Throughout much of Season 3, Nate endured a series of brutal ordeals at the hands of creditor Naz, including beatings, having his pinkie toe severed and, at one point, being buried alive in a coffin.

Reflecting on everything his character went through, Elordi recently joked that being “tortured” was the reason Levinson brought him back for the show’s third season.

“I think Sam [Levinson] brought me back to torture me,” Elordi said on “Jimmy Kimmel Live” to guest host and “Euphoria” costar Colman Domingo. “It was like, six weeks of me just getting beat by a seven-foot guy. I was just running the whole time.”

Elordi Spent ‘Two Days’ Trapped Inside A Coffin

Among the ordeals, being locked inside the coffin appeared to be the toughest for Elordi, given the length of time he had to spend in the confined space.

“I got locked in a coffin for two days straight with prosthetics and a fake tongue, and I couldn’t see out of my eyes,” Elordi told Domingo.

At one point during filming, Levinson even added a snake to the coffin for the sequence leading up to Nate’s gruesome death.

In the scene, the snake slithered down the breathing tube Naz had given Nate before delivering a fatal bite, sealing his fate before anyone could find and rescue him.

Jacob Elordi Says His Snake Co-star Was Like A Puppy

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While such a scene would typically be challenging for an actor, Elordi said he was completely comfortable sharing the coffin with the snake.

“He had a very nice personality. He was very docile and very sleepy,” Elordi said of the snake. “I don’t think he’d had a lot of sun.”

He ended up repeatedly nudging the snake in an effort to make it more active, as the scene required the animal to appear menacing. However, it seemed completely uninterested in cooperating. “He was like a little dog,” Elordi also recalled. “He just kept curling up at my feet. He’d drop down the tube, and then he’d sort of slither down and then he’d find a little warm spot.”

The Actor Calls Nate Jacobs’ Death A ‘Cool Way To Go’

In an HBO behind-the-scenes video, Elordi reflected on his character’s death, calling it a “cool way to go.”

“Nate is somebody who’s made so many mistakes and so many dark choices; it’s cool to see it all come to what it’s come to,” the actor added.

“I had to go into this coffin, my shoulders were touching the side, and I couldn’t move my arms, and then they would drill the lid on, and it would get dark,” he continued.

In the clip, Elordi also admitted he had mixed feelings about “Euphoria” coming to an end, especially considering how much the series has helped shape his career.

“It’s a bittersweet thing. This show is a massive part of not just my career, but my life. It’s been amazing, and I’m so proud being a part of this,” he noted.

Sam Levinson Praises Jacob Elordi For Embracing Snake Scene

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Speaking about the scene, Levinson gave Elordi “enormous credit” for embracing the creative decision despite how bizarre it was.

In a previous interview with Esquire, Levinson also defended his choice to give Nate such an unconventional death. He said the ending aligned with what he believed was the most satisfying form of karma for the character, offering fans the reckoning they had long hoped to see following Nate’s actions throughout the previous seasons.

“There’s this kind of funny thing where I know what the audience wants in terms of justice or karma,” he told the outlet, “and with that in mind, I always think, ‘Well, how can I give it to them? How can I give them what they want, but make it so horrific and anxiety-inducing that by the time it happens, the audience isn’t so sure they wanted it?’”

As explored in that now infamous Family Guy clip where Peter confesses he didn’t care for The Godfather because “it insists upon itself,” there are sometimes movies that get praised, and you hear they’re great, and then you watch them, and they don’t do much for you. Worst-case scenario, you might well find yourself thinking they’re totally overrated, like, if you hate a movie most people love… but what about when it’s not quite so dramatic?

Enter the following movies, which are generally well-regarded, and here, they’re going to be acknowledged as just fine. More along the lines of “good” than “great.” You won’t like seeing certain films here, but if you clicked on this, you accepted it might make you angry before that click was completed. Admit it. Also, if you don’t like the detached writing style here, just pretend phrases like “I believe” and “I feel” are sprinkled throughout, because this is subjective, even if it’s not being written in the first-person. And, if you have further complaints and wish to voice them, please click here.

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‘Opening Night’ (1977)

Image via Faces Distribution

Like a fair few movies that are going to be mentioned here, Opening Night is very long, perhaps even to the point where it’s a bit self-indulgent. John Cassavetes was a filmmaker who very much did his own thing, and was a trailblazer as far as independent directors went for sure, but his movies are sometimes easier to admire than they are to genuinely feel engaged by. Opening Night is one such film.

It’s a rambling movie about a group of people involved with putting on a stage play, and as that titular opening night gets closer, they all get a bit more stressed about all the drama in their lives. Kind of. It doesn’t really build in the same way that better Cassavetes films like A Woman Under the Influence or the underrated Gloria do. But, like those films, Opening Night does boast a strong lead performance by Gena Rowlands, so that’s definitely something.

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‘Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles’ (1975)

Image via Olympic Films

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Credit where credit’s due, Chantal Akerman was surprisingly young when she directed the incredibly mature Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. At least it’s fair to say that it doesn’t feel like it was directed by someone who was still in the first half of their 20s while making it, because this is a film about a middle-aged woman and the emptiness of her existence.

It’s a movie about a routine that gets followed, but then unravels, albeit incredibly slowly. Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles is like an anti-epic, running for almost 3.5 hours while spanning a small period of time, having very few characters, and also being purposefully repetitive until, eventually, it’s not. It’s arduous to get through, and it’s supposed to be, but still. It asks a lot of you, as a viewer, and doesn’t give you much in return, but then again, the titular character sacrifices a lot in her life, and gets little in return, so yes… very clever, Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. You’re still a waste of time, but at least you’re a thematically effective waste of time.

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‘Secrets & Lies’ (1996)

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A little like John Cassavetes, Mike Leigh has a distinctive style that he pretty consistently sticks to, with about as much variety as you get being the fact that some of his films are dramedies, or dark comedies, while others are more straightforward dramas. In either instance, there’s usually a good deal of realism and solemnity, with a slow pace usually found alongside all that dourness.

Secrets & Lies is one of many movies of his that aren’t particularly exciting or entertaining, yet it’s not really trying to be, because this is a drama about what happens after a woman connects with her birth mother and finds she wasn’t who she expected. And there are some secrets and lies that get kept, and then get revealed. What a twist. Look, it’s okay. It’s fine, it’s cool.

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‘All About Eve’ (1950)

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There was a lot Joseph L. Mankiewicz did throughout the years he was active, and he did conclude his filmmaking career on an incredibly strong note, thanks to Sleuth (1972) being his final directorial effort. All About Eve might well be the most celebrated film he directed, though, from about two decades earlier. It’s the one that won a bunch of Academy Awards, at least.

It’s a movie about people being endlessly snarky at each other for a runtime that nears 2.5 hours, for some reason. If you click with the dialogue here, and like the actors, it’s probably glorious, but if you find it’s not really working for you early on, then little about how it plays out later is going to win you over. You can single out numerous elements here that are technically well executed, sure, but as to what they all add up to… not sure. Just not sure. Don’t get this one. Help.

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‘Ordet’ (1955)

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Ordet is a very slow-moving drama about faith, and even if you’re not particularly wild about the film, it does feel like it achieves what it (seemingly) set out to do. There are some family members who are all dealing with following their religion in their own personal ways, and they grapple with some very personal issues very internally, so Ordet does demand a viewer’s attention, for what that’s worth.

It’s not a particularly eye-opening or interesting film, though, unless you find yourself really relating to one or more of the personal journeys being undertaken here. It has something of a distinctive atmosphere, and so maybe you’ll find Ordet kind of haunting at times, but it’s also likely going to be too hard to penetrate – or really care about – for other people.

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‘3 Women’ (1977)

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If you prefer psychological dramas to psychological thrillers, and don’t mind things getting quite surreal at points, then 3 Women might be your kind of thing. Robert Altman was definitely doing something a little unexpected here, which has to be admired, since so many of his best-known movies have huge ensemble casts and feel very spontaneous, while 3 Women has fewer main characters, and there is also a greater feeling of purposefulness to it all.

That being said, it does still drift and seems keen to confound at times, but there are probably things to unpack here if you’re willing to put in the time analyzing and/or rewatching it. It’s got that haunting quality to it, which is something, even if, in the moment, it’s a difficult film to really get immersed in and blown away by.

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‘Rear Window’ (1954)

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The good thing about Alfred Hitchcock is that you can find yourself slightly underwhelmed by a couple of movies of his, here and there, and you’ve still got so many more to dig into. He was prolific for sure, and he made a number of movies that are pretty much masterpieces during that time, so it was a bit of a quality and quantity kind of thing. He got stuff done on both fronts.

With Rear Window, this one is often considered one of his very best, but since it’s here, and what “here” is has already been established… uh… you know. It’s good. Like, actually, conceptually, it’s amazing. To have a character who’s stuck in an apartment, and then filming pretty much the entire movie from his perspective, it’s all very immersive. It’s just a shame that much of the film’s so slow, and it plays out like a mystery story where there’s little to no actual mystery as to what’s happened, and what’s going to happen. Also, the part near the end where the footage of people running and reacting to an alarming sight is so goofy in a way it’s probably not supposed to be.

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‘The Leopard’ (1963)

Yes, The Leopard is a lengthy film, at just over three hours, so it can be expected to feel long… but not this long, right? It goes on and on, perhaps to reflect a certain emptiness within the privileged lifestyles many of its characters live, but there’s an eventual repetition when it comes to how it drives home that point again, and again, and again.

Also, for all the lavish costumes and party scenes, there’s one battle set piece early on that’s woefully directed and executed, looking like a film within a film (like, if one of the characters were directing a movie somehow, and they weren’t good at directing, you might show such a sloppy scene and have it be a fake-out; a movie within a movie). Though longer, you’re better off watching War and Peace, another epic from the 1960s that has better scenes of lavishness and opulence, and then it also has war sequences that actually look impressive.

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‘Cries and Whispers’ (1972)

Image via Svensk Filmindustri

Cries and Whispers is noteworthy for being one of the (relatively) few films not in the English language to be nominated for Best Picture, doing so decades before one actually ended up winning Best Picture (2019’s Parasite). It’s also an Ingmar Bergman film, so you can rely on it being emotionally intense and visually engaging while boasting at least a couple of good performances.

It’s also really tedious, to be honest. Like, it’s well-made to some extent, so calling it an outright terrible movie would be dramatic, yet it’s hard to see what other people see in this. So many other Bergman films are worth your time before this one. It’s too mopey, despair-filled in a borderline comical way, and almost like a parody of arthouse cinema, rather than a genuinely great example of an arthouse film.

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‘The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance’ (1962)

Image via Paramount Pictures

Saving what’s probably the most brazen hot take for last, here’s The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. If you were still waiting to hurl rotten produce, and made it this far without making any of it airborne, feel free to fling all that moldy stuff now. But also, this is still a good Western, and is admirable for being a little heavier and weightier than your typical John Wayne film.

He’s fine here, as he usually is, and James Stewart is also good, because James Stewart couldn’t really help but be good, whatever he was in. If you’re in the mood for something deliberately dry and somber, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance might scratch that itch. There are far better subversive Westerns, and it’s not nearly as good as The Searchers, which was another John Wayne and John Ford collaboration that stands as an early revisionist Western of sorts, but this is fine. It’s a tricky one to get excited about, but you can more or less see why it’s considered a classic.

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The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance

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Release Date

April 22, 1962

Runtime

123 Minutes

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Director

John Ford

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Writers

James Warner Bellah, Willis Goldbeck, Dorothy M. Johnson

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Bob Dylan might have built one of the greatest discographies in music history, but with more than 700 songs to his name, some are bound to slip through the cracks. Since releasing his debut album in 1962, Dylan has gone through countless creative and personal phases, from his marriages and bold artistic reinventions to a quieter life away from the spotlight.

Along the way, plenty of songs—both released and unreleased—have quietly faded into obscurity. That doesn’t make them any less brilliant. In fact, some of Dylan’s most overlooked tracks rank among the finest he’s ever written. Without further ado, here are 10 forgotten Bob Dylan songs that are masterpieces, ranked.

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“Sign on the Window” (1970)

By 1970, at just 29 years old, Dylan had already accomplished everything a young musician could dream of: a record label contract, nine studio albums (with several becoming essential pieces of American music), and the creative freedom to pursue whatever genre he wanted. There was only one thing still missing: contentment.

As part of his move into country music, “Sign on the Window” is a warm piano ballad that shows that, despite everything the music industry says about success never being enough, Dylan simply longs for a quiet, ordinary life. Isolation and heartbreak may be inevitable, but by the final verse, he realizes it’s the simple things in life that matter most.

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“Moonshiner” (1963)

“Moonshiner” might not be Dylan’s original song, but he sings it with genuine sincerity and deep respect for the people at its center. In the song, alcohol becomes a symbol of working-class communities that have long been overlooked by society. Historically, moonshiners produced liquor without government permits, making it an illegal trade.

But Dylan doesn’t villainize the people who choose that life, nor does he romanticize breaking the law in search of fortune. Instead, he focuses on the hardships they endure. Being a moonshiner offers a sense of freedom, but it also traps people in a cycle of crime and poverty that feels impossible to escape—lasting, in the song’s words, “for seventeen long years.”

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“Sweetheart Like You” (1983)

“Sweetheart Like You” sounds like a typical love song about meeting a woman in a seedy place: “But what’s a sweetheart like you doin’ in a dump like this?” The first half recreates a conversation between Dylan and the woman, making it feel intimate and personal.

But beyond the surface, the song is about someone caught in a world where people constantly trade their morals for success. Even the kindest people can be worn down by a system that punishes loyalty instead of rewarding it. As Dylan puts it, “They say that patriotism is the last refuge”—a line that hints at how blind idealism can be misused for someone else’s personal gains.

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“Up to Me” (1974)

We can’t control the cards life deals us, but we can choose how we play them—hence the title, “Up to Me.” For the longest time, Dylan sang about how unfair the world can be. But “Up to Me” reinforces the idea that resistance can also mean taking control of what happens next in our lives.

Even when everything goes “from bad to worse,” and life gives you little reason to smile—”In fourteen months I’ve only smiled once”—nobody can decide what we do next except ourselves. Had he followed what everyone else thought was the right way to live, Dylan declares with dramatic conviction, “the heart inside me would’ve died.”

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“Red River Shore” (1997)

“Red River Shore” shows how much Dylan’s songwriting had matured from his early days. The Dylan of the ’60s experimented with surrealism, layered meanings, and stream of consciousness. By the ’90s, the much older Dylan had grown more reflective, opting for narrative structures that retell different scenarios while immortalizing each moment in its essence.

Dylan pieces together little quirks and intimate moments he shares with his lover. Every stanza in “Red River Shore” feels like a memory, moving naturally from the smallest details, like what he wears, to the best advice she’s given him. But by the end, it all comes together on a bittersweet note: nobody could truly see him except the girl from the Red River shore.

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“Abandoned Love” (1985)

The best heartbreak songs are often the ones based on real pain. Inspired by Dylan’s failing relationship with his then-wife, Sara Lownds, “Abandoned Love” grasps the moment when a romance can no longer be saved, yet letting go still feels impossible. Rather than recounting specific events, Dylan expresses his emotions through surreal imagery.

From being deceived by “the clown inside of me,” suggesting he was foolish to believe the relationship could survive, to his “patron saint… fighting with a ghost,” implying that even faith cannot rescue him, he blames himself throughout the song. Despite every attempt to disguise his feelings, his heart remains certain: it’s “a-tellin’ me I love ya still.”

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“Series of Dreams” (1991)

“Series of Dreams” opens with rolling drums and soaring guitars that immediately pull listeners into a dreamlike adventure. Fittingly, the song is literally about the metaphysical sensation of entering the dreamworld. As Bob Dylan himself explained, there’s no deeper rationale behind them—”nothing too very scientific”—because dreams simply happen.

Like much of Dylan’s work, “Series of Dreams” recreates an experience. The song seizes the fragmented, mysterious nature of dreams, where the subconscious becomes an unexplored landscape. Logic disappears; there is “no exit in any direction,” and “anything you’re holding on to, they’ll just collapse.” Instead of searching for meaning, Dylan invites listeners to surrender to the moment.

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“Where Are You Tonight? (Journey Through Dark Heat)” (1978)

Another song inspired by Dylan’s breakup with Lownds, “Where Are You Tonight? (Journey Through Dark Heat)” is the singer’s desperate plea as he realizes that, like the relationship itself, he’s far from perfect. Dylan once said that a person’s greatest battle is against “the enemy within,” and that idea shapes the song as he wrestles with guilt, temptation, and self-doubt.

Sometimes mourning a relationship isn’t just about losing someone you love, but grieving the person you could’ve been. Drawing on Biblical imagery, Delta blues, and a gospel-tinged sound, Dylan turns heartbreak into a spiritual struggle rather than simply blaming his former lover, making it one of his most cathartic songs.

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“Caribbean Wind” (1985)

An unreleased track from Shot of Love, “Caribbean Wind” is one of Dylan’s songs from his early ’80s Christian era. Where there’s faith, there’s desire. And in a world full of turmoil, desire becomes even more tempting, none more so than the woman Dylan describes as “the Rose of Sharon from Paradise Lost.”

With images of “armies on the march,” famines, and earthquakes, personal love still survives despite a world filled with spiritual anxiety. The recurring chorus, where the “Caribbean winds” keep “fanning the flames in the furnace of desire,” shows that his feelings refuse to fade. Dylan rewrote and revised the song several times, but it was never released on the album.

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“Angelina” (1981)

One of his most mysterious songs, “Angelina,” is up to anybody’s interpretation. Written after his Gospel Tour, the song attracted attention because each stanza contains an intentional rhyming scheme. However, each line doesn’t seem to connect to another, with no overarching theme to link them all together.

The lyrics jump from personal confessions like “it’s always been my nature to take chances” to strange, dreamlike visions filled with biblical imagery. Giants, the “pale white horse,” and an “angel with four faces” all echo the Book of Revelation, but Dylan never explains what any of it means. Whether Angelina is a real woman, a symbol of faith, or something else entirely is left up to the listener.