13 Reasons Why, season 2

If you haven’t read my essay on Season One, please access the 2017 posts and scroll down until you get to it.

My dad has a teacher friend who posted a warning on Facebook to all her followers that 13 Reasons Why season 2 was not suitable for watching by teenagers (something about their brains not being fully developed to process the subject matter), and furthermore, not suitable for anyone. Well, that just made me all the more eager to watch it and experience whatever that scene was that is so dark and terrible that it bothered her and no doubt so many others. I even asked my friends on Facebook not to post spoilers because I wanted to have that raw, emotional experience. But I have very little will power, and in a matter of hours, I deliberately accessed spoiler info on the infamous last episode because I simply had to know what happened. While getting that spoiler info, I also read the show’s creator defend the scenes in question, and the defenses rang true for me, especially after actually watching it. Warning: This essay gives out spoilers; it is intended for people who have either already watched the show or do not plan to. Or if you don’t care.

For a good portion of the season, I kind of agreed that the show wasn’t suitable for watching, but for reasons of quality, not content. I felt like the first few episodes were unrehearsed and rushed. (I don’t do film or TV, but I have heard that there is a little bit of rehearsal for scenes.)  The directing choices seemed phoned in, and the acting bordered on melodrama. (There’s that overwrought scene in episode two where Clay slowly builds up to a tortured scream at Hannah, for instance.) And I was really surprised because while I had issues with the first season, none of them pertained to performances. In fact, I remember saying something like, “This is the next generation of great actors.” I felt like I was eating my words.

As for story, it was confusing. The first season had two timelines. The second season added a lot of other scenes that took place in various times, to the extent that you lost track of where each scene was supposed to fall in the overall chronology. You had to ask yourself, “Okay, did this happen before or after that other thing that happened?” And if an exchange between Hannah and another character took place AFTER the event described in that character’s tape in season 1, why wasn’t this info included in the tape? To add to the confusion, we had scenes that were not real, but imagined, and we had fake flashbacks told by liars in court. Sometimes it was clear what was real; sometimes it was less clear. And I can see somebody saying, “Well, that’s intentional because it’s supposed to be confusing for the characters to sort out.” No, having your characters confused does not mean you want your audience confused too, no matter what Christopher Nolan might say.

Then you have this running voice-over narration that works very differently from Hannah’s voice narrating the tapes. And what I mean by “works differently” is that it doesn’t work. You’ve got a character testifying in court—usually in the form of Poetic Life Reflections—and while you’re listening to that, you see scenes play out that don’t actually involve the character who’s talking. It’s clear that the filmmakers are trying to match the scenes thematically with the narration, but the narration only serves as a distraction. And it just keeps going on and on throughout each episode, stopping occasionally when we need to hear dialogue for a scene. Then it starts up again and you’re like, “Really? Is this person still talking? Was I supposed to be paying attention to what they were saying this whole time?” Every once in a while, there will be a kernel of real truth or insight spoken, and then you wish they had only included that and left out the rest. 

I’ve never been to a trial, but it is hard to imagine a more callous and insensitive attorney than the one hired by the school. All of these kids have been through trauma. She badgers them as if they all committed a rape, when only one of them has. They lost someone special to them, but she drags her through the mud, in front of her still-grieving mother. I know what they say about lawyers but it’s hard for me to imagine these court scenes playing out this way in real life. The school and the court would try to come off as sympathetic, at least. I actually think these teens would be treated more with kid gloves considering the circumstances. I could be wrong, but the over-the-top bitchiness of this attorney made these scenes really hard for me to swallow. The court scenes were the worst part of this season.

Some characters that I loved in season 1 (like Clay), I hated in season 2. And some characters I didn’t like in season 1 (like Alex), I loved in season 2. Weird. But now I’m starting to delve into areas that required me to watch the entirety of the season before they made sense and I could see the reasoning behind them.

One of the judgements I made about season 1 was that the show seemed to think it was all right to blame people for someone else’s ill-fated decisions. I judged Hannah for being so judgmental to her friends and classmates. But in season 2, you’re presented with the possibility that Hannah may not have intended the tapes to be heard by all of their subjects, and that this decision was made by Tony. Hannah wasn’t looking for revenge, only an outlet for her pain. And the revenge, gossip, broken friendships, lies, betrayals, violence, and all the other chaos that ensued were not what she intended. And you see Clay lashing out at Hannah with these same accusations that I had, call her evil and saying he could not forgive her. Of course, he did, eventually, which is good. And I forgave the writers of this show for a message that was muddled in season 1, but clarified in season 2.

In season 1, the characters were all kind of hot and cold, Jekyll and Hyde. They were good, then they were bad. Then with the sting of remorse and regret, they were good again. But in season 2, you see the characters as much more complex and nuanced. They all pretty much run the gamut in terms of morality, which is much more true to life. In season 1, Clay was the hero that you identified with, and you wanted to comfort his pour sad soul. In season 2, he is a completely self-absorbed whiner who really doesn’t contribute much. Until the end, that is. It takes him the entire season to snap out of his selfishness and see someone else’s pain.

That someone else is Tyler Down. A case could be made that season 2 is perhaps more his story than anyone else’s. And he isn’t really a very likable guy, and I think that’s part of the point. People don’t like him, which adds to his mistreatment by his classmates. Even we, the audience, don’t like him very much so we’re tempted not to care what happens to him. But some surprising things happen, and we are drawn in. He makes a new friend, Cyrus (a great character, by the way) and his sister, who he’s got a thing for. He has a taste of what it’s like to have a social life. But of course he screws it up because…well, he just doesn’t know how to do it. He’s used to being a loner; that’s all he knows. But you see these moments of happiness, and it’s really great. Which makes the sad things that follow all the more devastating. When he comes back after being sent away, he seems to be on a good track all of a sudden. He even looks better; the hair cut does him good. But the girl has moved on, and so has Cyrus. So now he’s alone again. Then the infamous scene happens with the mop handle rape, and that flips his switch. What switch, you might ask. It’s the switch that gets flipped when someone ends up taking a gun to school to go on a rampage. (I’m not saying it’s anyone’s fault, just like Hannah’s suicide isn’t anyone’s fault, but in both cases, a series of factors worked together to create the perfect storm.)

What makes this episode so moving to watch is that the students at the dance get tipped off to the fact that Tyler is on his way to shoot up the school. Clay, having escaped his own mind-prison, single-handedly goes out to risk his life, trying to stop him. And in the process, Clay admits that he bullied Tyler too (another gripe I had with season 1). He sees Tyler not as a potential monster, but as a human being, very much victimized himself. If he were to go into that school and start shooting, he would not be worthy of anyone’s pity. But until that happened, he was a desperate kid who needed help. Clay saw that. The producers of this show saw that. And it’s the only example of a show or film I can think of that offers this perspective. What a timely and much needed message: the idea that you can prevent a tragedy by being kind. In the wake of the Parkland shooting, I actually read remarks from people that denied this premise, a fact that grieved me quite a bit. 

If there’s a season 3, we’ll learn if there’s any redemption for Tyler. Redemption was a theme in season 2, but not really until the last few episodes. Clay asks a pastor if he thinks God will forgive him and his classmates, and the pastor gives a wishy-washy answer with not a single mention of Jesus Christ. Well, I'm used to that in our modern culture. In other news, guidance counselor Porter is totally redeemed in season 2; I liked him a lot here. Justin is both rescued and redeemed by Clay’s family, but it will be interesting to see how his continued drug use will complicate those new and vital relationships. Alex suddenly seems like a real person in season 2, though his constant declarations that he’s “broken” get tiresome. I love his developing bromance with Zach. The scene in the locker room where they fight and then Alex gets a boner is probably my favorite scene in the season. I have no illusions about Alex being gay or even bisexual, but it will be interesting to see what happens when he finds out about Jessica’s betrayal in the locker room with Justin during the dance.

This show would be stronger and better if there were more happy moments like the Alex/Zach and Tyler/Cyrus friendship scenes. I know we’re doing Important Teen Drama, and teen’s lives are supposed to be so dramatic. But if every page in your story is sad, your audience can get bored with that one note. What would happen if next season, you had all the same characters, but they were relatively stable, dealing with regular teenage stuff, people laughed a lot, and the whole world wasn’t at stake?