Peacemaker – Season 2

Having enjoyed the first season of Peacemaker, I was curious to see where James Gunn would take his metal-loving, blood-soaked avatar of justice in season two. I enjoyed the chaos and absurdity of the first 12 episodes and thought the show had a unique opportunity to cement itself as the more adult-themed cousin in the DC universe, much like Deadpool did for Marvel.

After Sunday’s latest episode, however, I’m starting to worry that this opportunity is being squandered. While the show hasn’t lost its taste for over-the-top violence or raunchy humor, it is starting to feel like it’s spinning its wheels, bogged down by its bloated cast and a slow, circular plot that refuses to go anywhere.

It’s clear that James Gunn loves a good party. Season 2 kicks off like a bacchanal, where clothing is optional, violent tendencies are celebrated and cool nicknames are a must. From old Argus agents to alternate dimension versions of season one characters, everyone’s been invited back to the dance for a chance to preen and posture before the gracious host.

As with any social gathering there is a clear hierarchy and Gunn isn’t afraid to play favorites. Jennifer Holland clearly stands at the top of the pyramid this season, taking full advantage of her status as the DCU’s new nepo wifey. She’s everywhere in the first four episodes, occupying all spaces in all dimensions, not only as the obligatory female badass but also as the show’s emotional linchpin and the object of Peacemaker’s longing. Ever the doting husband, Gunn is more than happy to slow the plot down every chance he gets, for a chance to worship at the altar of his botox goddess. Whether it’s a pointless bar fight scene, or extended showcases of her emotional distress, any excuse will do. 

Tim Meadows and long-time collaborator Michael Rooker also make an appearance this season, joining the Argus crew as new potential foils to our lovelorn meathead murderer. And while their addition may bring a measure of comic relief to the antagonist carousel, actors of their notoriety also require the screen time befitting their status. Time that Gunn is more than happy to provide, once again at the expense of efficient storytelling. Unfortunately these indulgences pile up, transforming the story’s framework into a narrative slog that drags into four episodes what should have been done in two.  

The Argus subplot is the clearest example: four episodes in, the agency is still trying (and failing) to get into Peacemaker’s house. The story just loops endlessly as different characters take turns at the wheel. It plays less like actual plotting and more like Gunn flipping through a Rolodex of actors, finding new excuses to bring each one onscreen.

Dialogue, too, suffers under this approach. Already somewhat wonky in season one, the forced banter between characters now stretches into meandering exchanges where actors dig aimlessly for whatever nugget of comedy they can find.

None of this means season two is unwatchable. Gunn’s flair for irreverent spectacle and his affection for his oddball characters still shine through. But the show is at risk of collapsing under the weight of its own self-indulgence. Working with your friends is fun, but viewers don’t tune in to browse the director’s IMDB contact list. They want a story that earns the attention it requests. Right now, Peacemaker season two doesn’t do that.

If season one was a gleeful surprise, season two feels like its bloated after party. There’s still time to right the ship, but Gunn will have to remember: more isn’t always better.