Created by Alfred Gough and Miles Millar, the first season of Tim Burton’s Wednesday premiered on Netflix this November. While some are already busy bingeing the show on repeat, others are still holding out against the hype.
The show ties in nostalgia with humor, neo-noir, and bildungsroman scapes. It has become such a big hit that even those who aren’t interested in it have been subjected to countless videos of Jenna Ortega’s sinfully ghoulish Rave’N dance to the '80s jam "Goo Goo Muck" by The Cramps. The show’s popularity has even thrust Lady Gaga’s “Bloody Mary” to the top of the charts even though it wasn’t even on the show.
Given the scope this response has generated, the showrunners can really dig in and give us a deliciously darker season two, without having to rely on populist tropes and narrative crutches. They can easily steer clear of the teen drama vibes (there were two love triangles too many in season one after all) that received criticism. Even Ortega has expressed, as per ET Online, that she wants Wednesday to “continue down an antihero stream rather than a typical hero.”
Even though nothing is officially confirmed yet, there are a few storylines we would love to see explored in the second season and some that we would be happy to see leave.
Wednesday Season 2: What Could Be Improved Upon
At its core The Addams Family has always been deeply subversive. While the first season of Wednesday tried to use the normie vs outcast struggle as a stand-in for real-life prejudices like racism and homophobia, things could be dealt with more nuance in the second installment.
Enid’s (Emma Myers) mother pushing lycanthropy camps on her is a loosely veiled metaphor for pseudoscientific practices like conversion therapy that attempt to “convert” a person's sexual orientation, gender identity, or gender expression to align more with cis-hetero norms. This storyline, even though minor, can easily be considered teetering on the edge of queerbaiting. Another seemingly unwitting moment of erasure in the “You Reap What You Woe” episode happens when Morticia (Catherine Zeta-Jones) accuses Mayor Walker (Tommie Earl Jenkins) by saying that “men like” him “have no idea what it feels like not to be believed”. This sweeping criticism may have been a feminist gotcha moment if the characters were not being played by the actors that they were, with Zeta-Jones being a white actor of Welsh descent and Jenkins being black.
In addition to the intersectionality issues addressed, there are other improvements that we hope to see in season two. For instance, the other actors need to be given space to be able to breathe authenticity into their characters, so that it feels like they are doing more than just dress-up. Neither Luis Guzmán (who plays Gomez Addams) nor Zeta-Jones got enough screen time to convince audiences that they are at par with their predecessors, Raul Julia and Angelica Huston, who portrayed the iconic gothic romantic duo in the 90s renditions. Guzmán’s Gomez is convincing as a doting father, but his chemistry with Zeta-Jones leaves a lot to be desired, even though it is such a key component of Gomez and Morticia.
Even the ‘I hate my parents’ trope should promptly be retired in the second season – especially the contentious mother-daughter relationship between Morticia and Wednesday – because the Addams family is supposed to be the very antithesis of the dysfunctional American family.
Another crucial element that felt off on Wednesday was the lack of balance between the macabre and the irreverent. The Addams Family has always had fun with the morbid. In Addams Family Values (1993), Huston’s Morticia choosing to insult Joan Cusack’s Debbie for indulging in a pastel wardrobe, while forgiving her for breaking Fester’s (Christopher Lloyd) spirit in the same breath is comedy gold. The wacky insanity throws you off and tickles you mad. The Netflix show falls short when it comes to handling some of the more intense scenes – like Moriticia’s confession to Wednesday, the Garette Gates murder flashback, Wednesday bombing a pool full of fish to cheer Pugsley up – they feel disproportionately somber.
While we hope Wednesday tackles its issues better next season, we also hope to see more supernatural elements in season two.
Wednesday Season 2: Exploring Newer Horizons
If Wednesday is returning to Nevermore, season two should definitely spend more time delving deeper into the other outcasts' backstories and their lores.
How do the sirens, gorgons, werewolves, and vampires age? It is mentioned briefly that some of the vampires (aka Fangs) have been around the grounds of Nevermore “forever”. What have they witnessed in this undefined “forever”? Could Wednesday have gone to one of them to find out more about the secrets of Nevermore and Jericho? Vampires as supernatural creatures of mystique may be overdone in pop culture at this point, but it wouldn’t hurt to have one in Wednesday's evergrowing motley crew of misfits.
We would definitely like to know more about Bianca Barclay, aka Brandy Jane (Joy Sunday), her mysterious mother, and the Morning Song cult she is a part of. How does this cult really siren potential victims through an app? Did they enchant it or did a siren code the app to lure the vulnerable?
The first season ends with the cliffhanger that Wednesday now has a stalker. Could it be a known player or a brand-new creature/character coming to tease Wednesday, the resident Nevermore savior and sleuth? Now that a hyde has been dealt with, we don’t mind a brand-new creature wreaking havoc in everyone’s life. We just hope Wednesday’s stalker mystery isn’t as tepid as A’s identity on Pretty Little Liars.
There’s also Gwendoline Christie’s Principal Weems who may just yet resurrect from the dead. Whether Weems is replaced, the showmakers should definitely bring in cool Cousin Itt and witchy Granny/Grandma (sometimes referred to as an Addams and sometimes as a Frump, canonically) because pop culture needs more crones who have unabashedly embraced their goblin mode; if nothing else, just to make Terry Pratchett proud. And maybe, Huston can play Granny, tying in the past with the present much like Christina Ricci’s character did in season one.