Yellowjackets

Despite the occasional meandering slowdown, "Yellowjackets" has lost none of its savage allure in Season 3. Its characters, its juicy storytelling, its violence, and its black comic heart are all still here, warm as freshly spilled blood, ready to hook us all over again. One of TV's best shows is back, and it's still a bloody great time.

In Season 3, the action is tighter and the stakes feel higher. The writers are better at balancing reveals, twists and new questions as the plot unfolds. Plus, the stuff that's always worked for "Yellowjackets" is still there. .... "Yellowjackets" is dangerous and intoxicating again.

Yellowjackets Season 3 takes longer to get going than the show's previous two outings, but is still a transfixing watch with an achingly cool soundtrack and plenty of stomach-churning tricks up its sleeve. 

The early episodes of Season 3 largely get this show back on track. It’s not quite at the level Season 1 operated on, but it’s fresher. It propels the audience forward, bringing us back to our roots of odd, potentially paranormal activity.

Once again, the season 3 cast is terrific, and there are darkly funny performances from the adult versions of the characters – in particular from Lynskey as bored housewife Shauna and Ricci as twisted but vulnerable Misty.

It does take a minute for Yellowjackets Season 3 to really embrace all the best parts of itself — the parts that remind us that you can't spell the word "wilderness" without "wild," and that, sometimes, the best, twistiest mysteries are the ones that make you hunger for more.

Yellowjackets remains witty, self-aware television. The soundtrack is great, it dares to wander off into long, hallucinogenic dream-like sequences, and you’re never quite sure who is going to make it out alive (in the present day, at least). Even if they are winging it plot-wise, it’s hard to care too much, when it’s as enjoyable as this.

"Yellowjackets" season 3 is proof positive that this show still has plenty to say about feminine rage and the haunting powers of grief and guilt.

The first two episodes of season three don't quite reach the highs of the supernatural-tinged mystery in season one, but I appreciate the attempt to course correct after season two with a more grounded approach. I'm suitably intrigued.

The balance between humor, emotion, and darkness is one that is hard to pull off, and it seems that the series has finally found a way to manage it all.

Just how all of this devious behavior will play out is not yet clear, and it can be frustrating to get only incremental forward movement in each episode, especially as the ensemble cast keeps expanding. Even so, the performances are consistently stellar, from the veterans to the relative newcomers, and Lynskey and Ricci especially shine in the present-day scenes, bringing welcome humor to their dark, frequently amoral characters.

The series from Ashley Lyle, Bart Nickerson, and Jonathan Lisco isn’t as confident as it was in previous outings, leaving the cast stranded in narrative wilderness and awaiting rescue that may never come.

Yellowjackets has replaced some of its broader accessibility with a knotty, indulgent story—and a level of absurdity that would seem ridiculous were it not for the torment its characters have already suffered. The show has always explored hive-mind delusions, but Season 3 renders its ensemble numb to logic in the face of inexplicable occurrences.

Regrettably, that rule still remains one of the few clear things about the darkly delightful “Yellowjackets,” as Season 3 continues the series’ frustrating habit of spooling out seemingly endless new mysteries without providing answers to the creepy mythology at its core.

We’re sure that the storytelling of Season 3 of Yellowjackets will even out as the season goes on, but it really feels like we need to see more of the teens than the adults at this point, and that imbalance is pretty evident in the first episode.

While it’s admirable to try to serve the sprawling cast by providing separate arcs for Melanie Lynskey, Christina Ricci, Lauren Ambrose, and Tawny Cypress, Yellowjackets forgets that a major appeal of this ensemble is what its members get up to together. .... When co-creators Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson and the rest of their creative team home in on what makes these girls and women tick, maneuvering the characters to reflect the thin line between civility and the feral, Yellowjackets is luscious, immersive, and barbed.

Depending on what brings you to Yellowjackets, this new season will either bring disappointment or seem like a turn in the right direction. On a plot level, the show feels in danger of stagnation, drawing out new mysteries with little conviction or clear purpose.

The adult half of the saga remains too scattered to gain much momentum. The teenage half is more cohesive .... With six episodes still left, there’s plenty of time for the show to swerve into new heights or disappointing dead ends or the vast middle ground in between. But it’s odd that nearly halfway through the season, we seem to still be in the setup phase.

There are still a lot of good performances, and more killer Nineties soundtrack cuts, but the show very much could use a shot in the arm leading to its own jaw-dropping equivalent of Jack telling Kate, “We have to go back!”

“Yellowjackets” isn’t quite one show but several of inconsistent quality joined by the flimsy glue of lingering questions that don’t seem all that complicated. What is “it” — “it” being the supposed wilderness terror – and what does “it” want decades after the teens left it? You, the loyal fans, can sit tight and ponder all that for as long as it appeals to you. And me? Um, I gotta go . . . do something.

The grown women are still scattered to the four winds, with most attempts to pair them off feeling forced, and they still lack an imperative as urgent as their younger selves’ need to stay alive. .... The paranoia, occult inclinations and regular old teen drama form a combustible powder keg that delivers some of the series’ best scenes to date.

Yellowjackets has lost much of its buzz in season 3. While the actors in both timelines are doing their best, the material they’re given doesn’t meet the high standard of quality set by season 1. The lack of connection between the actions of the characters in 1996 and their impact on their 2021 selves also makes the parallel storylines feel so distant as to not even matter anymore.

Now a wholly tedious affair whose dual narratives are equally aimless and pointless, it’s a mystery that lacks any terror, coherence, or purpose.