Once Superior, ‘Jessica Jones’ Season 2 Sinks To Netflix’s Subpar Marvel TV Level [Review]

“A hero would have you locked up for soliciting murder, a vigilante would beat the shit out of you, so which one am I?”—Jessica Jones

The bar is low for Netflix’s Marvel shows. These overlong, poorly acted, often corny superhero shows offer none of the (relatively) moral complexity or even disposable entertainment qualities of their movie counterparts. Even the worst Marvel Cinematic Universe movie is usually more compelling than any of Marvel’s Netflix shows often constrained by meager budgets and shoddy, sophomoric writing never quite worthy of these more modest, down-to-earth heroes. Netflix shows are meant to be Marvel after-dark type stories; ostensibly more focused on character, personal damage, and trauma than super heroics. What bonds all the Marvel characters on Netflix is they are essentially all reluctant heroes. And while this all sounds good on paper for anyone tired of big-budget superhero movies and perhaps looking for something more human, Marvel’s Netflix shows are all superficially drawn and all feature a goofy tone that undercuts the character’s pains and struggles.

READ MORE: ‘The Defenders’: Marvel’s Netflix Game Hasn’t Improved [Review] 

It’s true, Netflix has more time to meditate on character, but character focus isn’t necessarily inherently better. Sadly, none of these characters are very good, convincing or contoured. Their overall foundations are strong jumping off points, but the execution is poor; you often wish Kevin Feige was overseeing the operation. What were meant to be more intimate superhero stories, mostly feel like melodramatic soap operas made and with a budget that always fails the limited action scenes (and sometimes laughably so).

But Jessica Jones, as flawed as she is, was always the best of the streaming service’s characters. Though formulaic, riddled with the same flat clichéd dialogue, and incessantly frustrating plot blocking—catch and release the villain over and over again — it’s debatable if “Jessica Jones” itself was actually a good show. Let’s say it was for argument’s sake – the character, a dark, damaged anti-heroine played by Krysten Ritter had dimension and convincing personal issues which gave the show some weight, even if her petulant, perennially angsty mood and smarmy quips routine quickly grew tiresome. But perhaps, Jessica Jones was only as good as her own foil. In season one, we were introduced to Jones as an alcoholic, mental abuse victim suffering from PTSD; a meatier superhero origin than we’re used to.

Once a superhero, still dripping with a disdainful sarcasm that would make a high schooler envious, she had given it all up to be a private investigator and was still traumatized by the effects of being manipulated by the gaslighting psychopath Kilgrave (David Tennant). As absorbing as the season eventually became with its unvarnished depictions of sexual assault, psychological abuse, open sexuality and more, the show fell prey to the constrictions of filling up 13 episodes of airtime (something none of the Marvel Netflix shows seems capable of. Even “The Punisher,” which started out really strong, eventually ran out of gas). While filled with character texture, the show’s plot sucked and consisted of capturing the villain, losing him and trying to capture him again.

But a superb David Tennant made the most of his wicked role and as the villain grew more unhinged. As the stakes were raised, at its best, especially in its final episodes, “Jessica Jones” grew worthy of the title of Netflix’s first (relatively) good Marvel show. “Jessica Jones” ultimately faced her abuser and won; this made the Melissa Rosenberg-showrun show satisfying in its conclusion. Kilgrave gave Jones purpose.

However, in the underwhelming season two, without a specific adversary or much of a story, she’s lost in a floundering sea of familiar and dull narratives.  And the character, perpetually dour and in a dark headspace is once again, cynical, sardonic and in a dark headspace. The show reveals itself as never as sophisticated as it purported to be.

“He’s a bad man, you’re a vigilante superhero!” a character yells at Jessica Jones at the beginning of season two when she refuses to kill murder an adulterous man for money, spelling out this season’s moral dilemma. “I don’t kill people because I’m not a murderer,” she protests, but all of New York City knows better.

Season two is saggy, features more of the same and unfortunately features no charismatic villain or charming actor to play him or her. Instead, “Jessica Jones” plays out like a mystery and conspiracy; trying to find out who exactly IGH is, the nefarious organization which is likely behind her powers and origin story. Season two finds Jones grappling with the notions of being a murderer. Having snapped Kilgrave’s neck at the end of season one, the public considers her a menace, and she should be in jail but something, something, something, the courts took mercy on her for unconvincing reasons. Jessica Jones has extra baggage and the public at large is more afraid of her than ever (it makes no sense that a super-powered person would be able to roam around New York freely if the entire city was petrified of her and knew very well what she was capable of, but that’s this world for you).

“Jessica Jones” becomes something of an uninvolving two-hander with Jones’ friend and radio personality Trish Walker (Rachel Taylor) trying to tag along to help the P.I. learn her true identity. But as the mission becomes more and more dangerous, as Jones starts to overturn stones, she and Walker become more at odds with each other as the investigator becomes concerned with her safety and not wanting to be responsible for one more death. And it’s not so much that Jones can’t be cranky, lord knows she’s been given a shitty lot in life, but it would be nice to see the character have more than one mode.

Flat and without any momentum, “Jessica Jones” begins, aside from the baggage, with clues.  People are dying—one of them a hilariously bad speedster character like something out of the Flash, with mercilessly risible VFX—and they all seem to be connected to whatever IGH is. As Jessica, with the help of Trish, start putting the pieces together of her backstory, the journey becomes more perilous and Jones grows more bitter and distressed. This is a character seemingly created just to be wounded or traumatized on one level or another; pour it on and see how much she can take the show seem to say. Continually boozing, Jones looks perpetually weary. We want the character to catch a break, maybe lay off the booze and maybe chill out for a week in bed with the blinds down.

Returning to the show is Jones’ assistant, the wooden Eka Darville as Malcolm Ducasse, Carrie-Anne Moss as Jeri Hogarth who has her own personal demons to attend to, and Janet McTeer appears as essentially the show’s new villain. For now, anyhow, the character, who we discover is a doctor ostensibly behind Jones’ power, is the chief nemesis in the first few episodes given to the press, but she feels like a pawn in a more significant conspiratorial fame.

Krysten Ritter is persuasive, an undeniably watchable actress, but she can only do so much with a one-note character delivering what is often painful, tin-eared dialogue and banal insults (to watch her best work, revisit her on the far superior “Breaking Bad,”). Sluggish and without drive, “Jessica Jones” may be, so far anyhow, less aggravating than it was in season one — there’s less conveniently irritating plot blocking in the first few episodes — but it still struggles to say much of anything new for the character, her persona and her journey forward as a person. Jessica Jones’ life is seemingly filled with tragedy after tragedy with no end in sight. Pile on emotionless, stilted scenarios on top of this airless torment, you get a show that feels like New York in the summer without a humidifier.

“What are you?” a bystander asks at one point when a sulky Jessica stomps by. “I’m angry,” she retorts with the typical venom. Uh, yeah, we know. [C-]