This is a spoiler-free review of Our Flag Means Death season 2, which premieres with three episodes October 5 on Max.
The first season of Our Flag Means Death dropped anchor last year on Max, and quickly found a passionate audience. The unconventional dramedy loosely based on actual “Gentleman Pirate” Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) spent the majority of its first season charting Stede’s arc from useless husband and aristocrat to useless swashbuckler. More importantly, it developed a beguiling love story between Bonnet and Taika Waititi’s infamous pirate Ed Teach (a.k.a. Blackbeard) that was surprisingly swoon-worthy. Season 2 opens with a much darker tone, as breakups and subsequently scattered crews create a more fractured tale of much angst and woe. As such, this season meanders a bit until characters reconnect and everything lightens up. But the charm of Darby, Waititi, and their excellent co-stars still makes Our Flag Means Death a pleasure cruise.
The implosion of Bonnet and Blackbird’s relationship at the end of season 1 provides showrunner David Jenkins and the writing team a fresh canvas to scatter their characters upon. The outcome is a massive remix of just about all of the character dynamics. Former foe Spanish Jackie (Leslie Jones) offers a safe harbor for Bonnet and a few of his hearties to rebuild. Now a pauper pirate, Stede has no crew, ship, or reputation of note. Meanwhile, the heartsick Blackbird is the nihilistic mess of the high seas, pillaging other ships and driving his practically feral crew – including Izzy (Con O'Neill), Jim (Vico Ortiz) and Frenchie (Joel Fry) – to commit terrible acts in his name.
The separation allows for the introduction of fresh guest stars as persons of note in Stede and Ed’s travels, including the Pirate Queen Zheng (Ruibo Qian), infamous torturer/buccaneer Ned Low (Bronson Pinchot) and dysfunctional antiquers Annie (Minnie Driver) and Mary (Rachel House). They add a lot of unexpected flavor to individual episodes, but none of them take up the mantle of primary antagonist. Not having an outsider to turn the screws on the troubled pirates results in an overall lack of stakes, and a more disjointed narrative. To a degree, Stede and Ed are their own antagonists, with their lack of communication and periods of self-loathing creating most of the potent drama, especially in the early episodes. That works until the men reunite and then the narrative bobs like a cork without much purpose until an intriguing cliffhanger.
It’s also odd that Stede’s passion for pirating, which is so integral to his character, is relegated to more of an afterthought this season. Money and love troubles take up most of his attention, which makes him more passive and reactive, instead of proactive. I appreciate the writers not wanting to repeat themselves with Stede trying to find his sea legs again, but his arc is now less defined outside of his love of Ed. It’s only late in the season, with the episodes “Calypso’s Birthday” and “Man on Fire,” that Bonnet the pirate becomes an important plot point again.
The B and C stories for the supporting cast also aren't as expansive, or well-balanced. Great characters like Roach (Samba Schutte), Jim, and Frenchie don’t get the screen time they had in season 1, and they are missed. There are some odd reversals in storylines that don’t jibe with what was painstakingly established in season 1, like the sweet, slow burn between Oluwande (Samson Kayo) and Jim, which is snuffed out in exchange for two other hastily introduced romances. And Lucius (Nathan Foad), who was the source of so many comedic pieces of gold last season, is saddled with an arc that has him brooding and bitter for far too long.
On the other hand, something season 2 gets very right is reframing The Swede (Nat Faxon) as a “wife guy” for polygamous Jackie. Jones and Faxon’s chemistry and banter is a delight. First mate Izzy also has a very meaty storyline that O'Neill imbues with a lot of pathos and wisdom. His scenes of counsel with both Stede and Ed are some of the best of the season, and they add more humanity to the gruff seaman. Qian’s Pirate Queen is also a welcome addition to the ensemble as an extremely competent woman of warfare, who can land withering insults like, “You’re a mediocre man who thinks he’s exceptional,” and then coo warm support for Stede and Ed’s messy affair.
Speaking of that bromance, one of the biggest reasons to watch Flag remains the Stede and Ed of it all. The real-life friendship between Darby and Waititi translates into believable romantic chemistry, even though their character’s carry a poop deck full of emotional baggage. Jenkins wisely plays to his shipper audience, especially in episodes like “The Innkeeper,” which cranks its rom-com-separation notes to a hilarious 11. Yet Jenkins doesn’t torture his audience by denying them the proximity and progression they want from this relationship, a mistake other shows have made. Of course, that doesn’t mean their path to love isn’t choppy, but Our Flag Means Death has always made it clear that ignored past traumas and unresolved emotions will always come back to haunt those who fail to address them. Following that ethos gives the relationship more weight, promising that any potential happy ending will feel earned.
