The Umbrella Academy

All that time spent on extreme exposition pays off in a flashier, more entertaining, tighter second chapter. Season one of Umbrella Academy set the board, and season two plays the game. There’s a lot more zapping and superpower-ing in season two, which should appease comic book fans who want to see superheroes do that kind of thing. But it also swings for something way more emotionally resonant.

For every moment that delights you there will likely be one that frustrates you in equal measure. But this is a show whose whole is much more than the sum of its parts, and that is what makes all the difference.

The best thing that can be said about season two, then, is that it is that same show [as season one] but good. Not perfect, certainly, but if Sir Reginald Hargreeves has made any of his terrible lessons abundantly clear, it’s that people will continue to improve if you repeatedly tell them that they’re bad and you don’t love them.

Employing dry Wes Anderson-style humour and end-of-the-world exploits worthy of Heroes, the second season of The Umbrella Academy is just as – if not more – wacky than the first.

The violence factor is as high as the candy-colored production values, Kate Walsh returns as the dripping-evil top villain, and Ritu Arya adds snap as a sharp-talking wild card. Race and LGBTQ issues provide ballast, but for the most part “The Umbrella Academy” is just inspired bloody silliness the second time around.

The Umbrella Academy feels like it’s found its footing in season 2. ... It’s easier to follow, and far less dour — actors like Page, Gallagher, and Sheehan get to ply their trade in entertaining fashion.

Half-baked historical consideration aside, in season two The Umbrella Academy benefits from a more honed idea of itself, both structurally and stylistically. The intrigue begins to compellingly coalesce around episode four, and many of its visual tableaux are lushly articulated bits of pop art. ... It shouldn’t work—but The Umbrella Academy barrels along fast enough that all its disparate pieces mostly stay together.

The show occasionally finds a way to harness the powers of a solid cast and tremendously talented crew to deliver moments of almost shockingly good TV, but much more frequently falls victim to dull characterizations and repetitive stylistic choices. The latter tendencies render it interchangeable with super anti-hero team-ups like Doom Patrol, The Boys or Legends of Tomorrow.

For a show with an occasionally impressive exterior (the interplay between Klaus and Ben gets an impressive-looking added wrinkle), the emotional heartbeat underneath is largely absent. Part of that comes from being stretched thin enough that characters without a well-established core are often left flailing, but it’s mostly due to the show’s continued affinity for the reset button.

It may come on like Avengers: Age of Ultron, all fatuous fisticuffs and inscrutable nonsense, plus a nice line in mock-heroic subversion of the Marvel/DC franchise à la The Tick, but The Umbrella Academy’s real appeal is like that of The Royal Tennenbaums, The Sopranos or Tracy from Coronation Street.