You season 3: The horrors of domestic suburbia

We’ve moved past the hate for New York’s self-absorbed literary dreamscape in season 1, and beyond the loathsome organic-produce infatuated wasteland of conceited privilege that was Los Angeles in season 2, for now we’ve arrived at a whole new fresh hell with Joe Goldberg in his sociopathic adventure; The suburbs. Inhabited with gluten-free obsessed one-percenters, the setting works to favor Joe once again amidst the show’s consistent satire commentary that makes the character more palatable than the rest of the walking breathing shells of absent personalities that surround him.

The show has seen incredible growth and amassed a huge viewership as it follows Joe Goldberg, played by the charming Penn Badgley, through brutal escapades of his fixation for his female lovers. He is undoubtedly drawn to women with troubled lives, with his innate need to put out their fires, often through murdering the “bad” people she surrounds herself with. But, silver lining, he can kill people for you and text back at the same time? Don’t settle for less, ladies.

The new premise is initially refreshing to see after two seasons of the show’s standard formula that entails the protagonist obsessing over a new love interest as the body count around him casually rises, more often than not, through his own actions. The new season attempts to give its own take on a domestic suburban inferno with Joe and his wife, Love Quinn, played by the absolutely charismatic Victoria Pedretti, as both of them, equally predisposed to murder, try to make their marriage work despite not trusting each other in the slightest (with good reason).

Starting off with a whole Mr. and Mrs. Smith distrustful charade that ensues, the season sets of on a promising tone, unbridled with the comically chaotic conflict between the two individuals as they deal with disposing of the neighbor’s body, their failure to abstain from extra-marital affairs, and of course – marriage counselling. But their journey of rehabilitation and trying to be good people doesn’t last long as they inevitably fall off the wagon, their ineptitude fueled by the single force of distrust amongst the two. The larger, more pressing, dilemma in their subconscious remains that either of them is likely to kill the other sooner or later, for they are simply not happy with each other. Unhappiness and self-sabotage is almost innate to them and denial is god’s gift to this despondent couple.

What ultimately becomes this season’s guillotine is the protagonist of the show itself. Joe, who we’ve witnessed trying to grow out of his old habits, who has come to acknowledge his past trauma and its relativity to the man he is today, fails to overcome the criminal obsession that he has towards any attractive woman that walks by. It is horrifying and has become quite redundant within the constructed world. While under the protagonist’s purview, nothing is as romantic or shows enough dedication like murdering people for his significant other, his being an objectively bad person was never out of the question. It is the show’s effort to portray Joe Goldberg in a redemptive light and then completely upending all that foundation the minute Marienne (Tati Gabrielle) walks into his life as the ‘obsession of the month’ is what ruins the narrative of this season. While some may be compelled to explain this behavior through the lens of addiction, it doesn’t go far in rescuing the character’s credibility and dedication to becoming a better and reformed man. Simply being more considerate into who Joe kills is not redeemable in any way, and the character’s audible internal monologue justifying it as such is what serves Joe up to be a lost cause at this point.

Another falling for the season can be found in its sudden new turn into leftist indoctrination that is just too on the nose. A whole plot point dedicated to an anti-vax character and an entire episode titled “missing white woman syndrome” are some of the many unhinged directions the show takes that just leaves for a cringe-worthy aftertaste. Satirical black comedy was one of the major points of the show, but when pitted in contrast to a sudden emergence of such woke shills, it fails to have the same comedic hit and is truly tiresome, considering how often it’s recycled in every other title Netflix has to offer.

Overall, the season proves to be an enticing and fun watch with the immensely dynamic duo of Joe and Love along with brilliant new additions including the brilliantly portrayed mom-fluencer, Sherry Conrad, who becomes a fan favorite by the end. However, it unfortunately descends into old patterns and predictable tropes that leads up to a weak finale that leaves one quite concerned for the potentiality of a good follow-up season.