Written by contributor Sophia Mattice
Gird your loins and watch for ravens in the sky: American Gods is back for season 2 on Starz. It premiered on March 10 to less than stellar reviews. Beleaguered by budget challenges, continuing delays, and changing leadership behind the scenes, it was questionable if fans would get more of Shadow Moon (Ricky Whittle) and Mr. Wednesday (Ian McShane) mixing it up with deities and entities, both ancient and new. Now that the second season is here, it’s looking like the show’s hardships have manifested in the final product.
Looking back on the first season of American Gods and the novel of the same name the show is based on, written by Neil Gaiman and published in 2001, it is disheartening to see how the second season has limped off of the rails.
Let me start out by saying that American Gods is a good book and a good show. Is the book better? In some aspects, yes. Is the show a good adaptation and does it also improve upon some of Gaiman’s original narrative and concepts? The first season, absolutely. My snobbish bookworm side, who is tempted to chime into discussions of films, television shows, and the literary tomes they stem from with my eyes closed and a pseudo intellectual tone declaring, “The book is sssooo much better” can sit back in her Rococo armchair and take a deep breath. Gaiman’s book is worth reading, even if you think fantasy is not your cup of tea. After a rocky start in the first 15 minutes of the pilot for American Gods, I was convinced that the show is also worth watching.
Both the book and the show go something like this: Shadow Moon, a young convict recently released from prison due to the untimely death of his wife, Laura (Emily Browning in the show), just so happens to meet Mr. Wednesday, a charismatic, inscrutable grifter who hires Shadow to be his bodyguard and driver. Of course, Mr. Wednesday is much more than he seems, and the two embark on a cross-country journey where Shadow soon finds himself enmeshed in a high-tension conflict between the Old Gods and the New Gods that erupts in violence.
Initial showrunners Michael Green and Brian Fuller brought just enough of their own touch to Gaiman’s story to make it simmer on the small screen while remaining true to the book’s characters. Was it perfect? No, but then neither is the book, and the show and its source material’s oddities and subversive spirit were more interesting than the unattainable label of perfection.
For unknown reasons Green and Fuller did not return for the second season and their replacement, Jesse Alexander, also left the production. Gillian Anderson and Kristin Chenoweth, both commanding your attention as the new god Media and Ostara, the goddess of spring, also jumped ship.
However, plenty of people initially involved in bringing American Gods to Starz (including Gaiman himself) are still involved, and there are plenty of articles already dissecting what went wrong in leading us to a season that meanders. For a show involving living dead spouses, the power of belief as it’s own kind of magic, and duelling gods, it’s disappointing to see the show’s premise play out so aimlessly. The cast is still a treat, and they invest so much of themselves in their roles that they make season 2 watchable. Orlando Jones continues to electrify as the story-telling god Mr. Nancy, and Pablo Schreiber’s over six-foot tall leprechaun Mad Sweeney provides adept physical comedy. Crispin Glover’s jittery intensity still makes for a fun villain in Mr. World and Bruce Langley is so bratty and self-absorbed as Technical Boy that he may give Game of Throne’s Joffrey Baratheon a run for his money as most loathsome adolescent in a show.
Is there enough of the same qualities that drew viewers to season 1 to sustain them through season 2? If you have any feelings on the matter, jump in the comments section and let me know. For me, I will come back for season 3, with the hope that the magnetism and slick, tenebrous humor that made season 1 so compelling returns.
It’s the very least that the gods deserve.
