FLEABAG SEASON two REVIEW
Much of the appeal of Fleabag is the voyeuristic and relatable execution and tone. The viewer feels personally connected with Waller-Bridge. It’s almost disappointing when she doesn’t acknowledge us at the end of a scene. Lesser shows attempt to create this linkage and miss the mark. Thus, it is mildly disappointing to watch the second season place much of the focus on secondary and tertiary characters even if that is the natural way of things for television. Even still, this season feels ever so slightly like a meandering slog relative to a tightly paced season one. But (and it’s a but that reminds us how much we care about the title character), seeing PWB express confidently to Andrew Scott’s priest that she loves him and to have him not break her heart for it sort of makes it all worthwhile. It’s a shame it appears we aren’t getting a 3rd season. Real Quick: Sian Clifford acquits herself wonderfully as Fleabag’s oft-suffering sister. When she isn’t out and out crying, she manifests a sadness that bubbles unceasingly below the surface. Am I the only one who finds it distracting that the sisters look nothing alike?