There is something deeply unfair about getting older. Just when you think you’ve figured life out, it throws grief, identity crises, awkward family dynamics and a baby into the mix.
Welcome back to “The Four Seasons”.
Tina Fey’s second season picks up after the emotional gut punch that closed the first instalment. Nick’s (Steve Carell) death hangs over the group like that one friend who says they’re leaving the WhatsApp group but somehow never quite disappears.
The result is a season that is sadder and surprisingly warmer than what came before.
The first season was about disruption. This one is about the uncomfortable business of carrying on, which we all need to face at some point.
Kate (Fey) and Jack (Will Forte) are still trying to figure out who they are as a couple when the kids, routines and distractions fall away. Danny (Colman Domingo) and Claude (Marco Calvani) face life-changing decisions that test their relationship in ways that feel painfully familiar.
Anne (Kerri Kenney-Silver), who could easily have remained the show’s most pitied character, gets some of the best material this season as she stumbles towards a version of herself that no longer revolves around her ex-husband.
What makes “The Four Seasons” work is that it understands something many shows are afraid to admit: adulthood does not come with answers.
It comes with better excuses, stronger reading glasses and a growing collection of emotional baggage. So if you thought adulthood is at its peak for you, Becky, think again.
The humour remains one of the show’s greatest strengths. It is less about punchlines and more about recognition. You laugh because you’ve met these people. You are these people. Or, if you’re lucky, you still have friends who tolerate you despite being these people. And I love that about this series.
Romantic relationships tend to dominate television, yet “The Four Seasons” repeatedly argues that friendships can be just as complicated, demanding and life-changing.
Domingo continues to be a standout, bringing warmth and charisma to every scene. The ensemble chemistry remains the secret sauce, making even the smallest conversations feel lived-in and real and that LOL moment we all need.
This season, there’s more emotional storytelling without losing its sense of humour. The balance feels more confident this time around.
That said, the season is not perfect. Some storylines wander. A few episodes lean heavily into sentimentality. There are moments when the wealthy-vacationing-friends formula threatens to drift into “rich people problems” territory.
What surprised me most is how much better the show becomes without chasing big dramatic twists.
Instead, it finds humour in the mundane disasters of middle age: marriages that need maintenance, friendships that require work and the realisation that reinvention looks far less glamorous than Instagram promised.
It genuinely feels like a conversation you left off mid-sentence, only to pick it up again later and realise you are now watching the next chapter unfold naturally, with all the same people but slightly different versions of who they are becoming.
And that is the beauty of it, the growth, the awkward honesty and the way friendships stretch without breaking even when life pulls everyone in different directions. People change, priorities shift, and yet somehow the connection still holds, even if it is a little more complicated than before.
Like a good friendship, “The Four Seasons” has settled into itself. It knows its flaws, leans into them and becomes more charming because of it.
Rating: **** a standout series with exceptional qualities.
