The Wednesday Season 2 review starts with one clear observation: misery still pairs beautifully with murder. Netflix’s macabre teen comedy returns with more deadpan charm, creepier family dynamics, and gruesome mystery. Jenna Ortega’s gothic heroine is back at Nevermore Academy, facing the usual high school idiocy—plus a new problem that’s far worse for any teen. Her family’s tagging along this time.
This season, Wednesday deals with Pugsley enrolling as a freshman, and Morticia and Gomez helping with school fundraisers. It’s both horrifying and hilarious. Ortega continues to master her role with razor-sharp timing, but the novelty has faded slightly. While her one-liners still sting, they no longer land with the same ferocity. The return of her perky werewolf roommate Enid adds familiarity, though not freshness.
Yet, the Addams family bond brings something new. The dynamic between Wednesday and Morticia deepens, with their mutual disgust now layered with generational tension. Morticia’s concern about her daughter’s psychic powers adds dramatic weight. Black tears stream from Wednesday’s eyes with each episode—a striking visual that teases danger and makes for perfect Halloween inspiration.
We also get much more of Uncle Fester, and Fred Armisen makes every scene weirdly lovable. Christina Ricci returns too, now institutionalized but still delightfully deranged. New to the cast is Joanna Lumley as Grandmama Frump, an icy mortuary tycoon stirring chaos between Morticia and Wednesday. In a clever nod to fans, Christopher Lloyd—Fester from the Addams Family films—appears as a talking head in a jar.
Thing, the severed hand, gets surprising screen time. Season 2 opens with him pummeling a serial killer, setting a bizarre but satisfying tone. There’s also a new mystery: stalkers, killer crows, surveillance secrets, and a walking dead classmate. Expect slime, brains, and plenty of bugs.
Though some zingers feel recycled and the narrative rhythms feel familiar, the show still charms. A standout moment comes in the form of a short ghost story told through black-and-white Burton-style claymation. It’s haunting and heartfelt—a reminder that even beneath the snark and slime, “Wednesday” has a soul.
No, the season isn’t quite as wickedly fresh as its debut, but that’s OK. The characters have matured slightly, the humor is more introspective, and the horror more grotesque. What matters is that it still works—a sharp-toothed tale of murder, adolescence, and a girl who doesn’t flinch at blood, bugs, or PTA meetings.
