*Premise spoilers.*
After I watched the first season of Good Omens, I was pretty content. While I gladly would have taken more of this story—let’s face it, of Aziraphale and Crowley—I didn’t need more. However, now that a second season has actually happened, I’m awfully happy to have it. As a quick note, I watched the full season when it first came out, and now I’m going through it again to write my episode reviews. As such, my reactions aren’t entirely virgin, but my first viewing was recent enough that I can remember a lot of my initial thoughts; I’ll try to include some of those.
Several years after the thwarted Armageddon of the first season, Aziraphale and Crowley are continuing their lives on Earth. Both Heaven and Hell keep minor tabs on them, but for the most part, they’re left to their own fates. But that’s about to change as a huge scandal in Heaven sends ripple effects through all dimensions: the supreme archangel Gabriel has disappeared. And wouldn’t you know who just turned up in Aziraphale’s bookshop, sans memories and attire?
The season premiere takes a bit of “let’s establish where we are now” time, but it’s pretty quick to drop us into the plot. The Gabriel mystery makes for an entertaining premise. Jon Hamm is clearly having a ball himboing around as the amnesiac archangel—his reaction to drinking hot chocolate for the first time is a hoot—and Aziraphale’s gentle but increasingly exasperated attempts to get answers out of him are a delight. It’s also interesting to see the reactions to the situation in both Heaven and Hell, with the other archangels quibbling over seniority now that their head honcho has gone missing and Crowley’s demonic replacement in London fishing to see if he knows anything. And I like the appearance of a couple new angels. Muriel, a keen low-ranking angel, is adorably sunny in their contributions, and I enjoy seeing Liz Carr as Saraqael—I used to listen to the disability-themed Ouch! podcast she hosted with Mat Fraser, and it’s neat to see an angel who uses a wheelchair.
There’s another side plot featuring a budding will-they-won’t-they between two other business owners on Aziraphale’s street, but this episode, like all episodes, naturally turns primarily on the interactions between Crowley and Aziraphale. I was surprised to discover that things are still rather up in the air between them. Last season, after both were turned out of Hell and Heaven respectively, Crowley had broached the subject of them moving in together. However, season 2 finds Crowley living in his Bentley and Aziraphale reacting shiftily to being asked if he’s ever felt “totally certain that everything would be better if [he] were just near one particular person.” I very firmly would not call this queerbaiting, though. Aziraphale’s denial doesn’t carry any “no homo” attitude—rather, it reflects a being who’s very much in love with someone, but they’re not “together-together,” and so he’s trying to downplay the depths of his feelings. As I said, I was surprised to see that these two are still in their own will-they-won’t-they phase, as I’d have thought that was settled by now. But then, when you’ve known each other for over six millennia, I suppose a few years hardly feels like any time at all to work things out.
Okay, let’s get into the David Tennant of it all, which will wind up getting a bit tangled in the Michael Sheen of it all, because it’s just that sort of show. Even if Crowley and Aziraphale aren’t yet “official,” they’re plainly as wrapped up in each other as ever. I love the further glimpses we get here of their long history together, including an inside joke about an apology dance and a look at their first first meeting, which was Before the Beginning.
I love this scene, because it’s our first look at Crowley as an actual angel. The way Tennant plays him here is so soft and sweet, bubbling with energy over his delight at “priming the engine” of the cosmos. There’s a lovely moment where he murmurs, “Look at you, you’re gorgeous,” and Aziraphale has a brief hopeful smile before realizing that he’s talking to a nebula. If the demon version of Crowley is somehow tense and languid at the same time, the angel version manages to convey a softened view of both those traits. The angel later known as Crowley is much lighter of spirit than the demon, more relaxed and yet also ardent without being intense. At the same time, we get foreshadowed hints of his coming fall as he disagrees with the next phase of God’s rumored plan. When Azirphale points out that the Almighty doesn’t exactly have a “suggestion box,” Crowley replies, “Well, you know, if I was the one running it all, I’d like it if someone asked questions. Fresh point of view!”
Side note: his English accent is plummier as an angel too, which I think is a nice touch.
Meanwhile, in the present, Crowley is his more usual mix of apathetic and tightly wound. He’s slightly bemused and slightly bored by his replacement Shax, showing her a bit of the earthly ropes with a sarcastic, somewhat world-weary air. At the same time, he also drinks six shots of espresso in one go and at one point gets so aggravated that his entire body starts smoking.
The chief conflict between Crowley and Aziraphale this season is set up to be the conundrum over Gabriel. While Aziraphale is both flummoxed and frustrated, he does consider it his duty to help hide Gabriel from the various forces looking for him and try to figure out what’s going on. Crowley, on the other hand, wants absolutely nothing to do with Gabriel and is visibly angered by Aziraphale’s suggestion that they get involved. And yet, his anger also reflects the depth of his care. When Crowley argues that he doesn’t want this Gabriel business to threaten the life he’s carved for himself on Earth, Aziraphale protests, “I thought we carved it out for ourselves,” at which point Crowley snaps, “So did I!” It’s deliciously angsty, and I love it!
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