'You' Season 2 is still the depraved thriller you fell in love with

"Altruism is dangerous," drawls Joe (Penn Badgley) in his reprised voiceover for You Season 2. That might be true, but it's simplistic. What's dangerous here, other than Joe himself, is altruism for altruism's sake — altruism whose true identity is menace.

In Season 2 of Lifetime's addictive thriller, now picked up by Netflix, Joe is, by his own definition, trying to be a better person. But he simply cannot escape his old ways. He falls in love too hard, too fast, and when he feels that love threatened, he does horrible things. He wants to change, but doesn't know how.

This time around, that love is Love (yes, really) (Victoria Pedretti), a widowed cook from a wealthy and powerful family whose drama promptly swoops in around Joe. That includes her twin brother Forty (yes, really) (James Scully), a recovering addict with filmmaking aspirations who comes as a package deal with his sister. For the bulk of the season, Forty especially feels underwritten — a caricature of coastal privilege who inexplicably insists on calling Joe "Old Sport" — and inauthentic, either because he's literally fake or playing someone disingenuous. The siblings appear in Hidden Bodies, the You sequel novel by Caroline Kepnes, but the show has its departures from that and could have fleshed out the brother in particular.

Then again, most characters seem lacking in juxtaposition with Badgley's sinfully skillful mastery of Joe. His every pout and blink and penetrating stare shows us the whirring cogs inside an unhinged mind, every loping step leading a careening train of thought into the world. 

Season 2 contains even more sharp shocks of levity amid the pure stress, a welcome catharsis even if your mind and body briefly short-circuit when it comes to processing that. Most of the time it's proper punchlines and irony, but one particularly insane scene cuts between Joe and Love, in the throes of passion, and Forty talking to his sister on the phone while picking up a banana and then a muffin at the store they own. It's simultaneously minuscule and brazen, serving no real function other than a cheeky wink at the audience and a demonstration that the people making the show are enjoying themselves. 

Joe continues to contain multitudes that are meant to make us second guess how awful he is (reminder: He's awful!). He's still somehow a feminist, at least on paper (this much can be said: His homicide record does not discriminate by gender). His latest crusade in protecting the downtrodden involves another neighbor: precocious teenage Ellie (Jenna Ortega), who spends too much time in close proximity with sexually predatory adult comedian Henderson (Chris D'Elia, sucking the marrow from this role). 

Ellie's older sister Delilah (Carmela Zumbado) is a reporter trying to crack that case like "Ronan Farrow ... but faster and with a personal agenda" (note: This is unethical journalism!). Joe makes an active effort to look out for both of them, which in his world means sneaking into Henderson's house and installing spyware on Ellie's phone. He wants to do the right thing but keeps doing it in the wrong ways, all the while explaining in that chilling narration that he's doing it to be worthy of Love and her love.

Joe realizes he didn't know true love until Love, and the poor, wronged ghost of Guinevere Beck (Elizabeth Lail) fades into the past. But his history claws forth, refusing to be buried. Beck may be gone, but Joe's entire new life in Los Angeles is a means to escape Candace (Ambyr Childers) and her vendetta to bring him to justice. When he's not paranoid about his ex or enamored in his newfound bliss, Joe is haunted by memories of his childhood and the abused mother whose love he still craves.

As impossible as it is, we can't help wanting better for Joe. He is more than an antihero; he's a bona fide villain, but that persistent desire to be good, despite the antithetical execution, is real. This doesn't mean rooting for him to ride into the sunset with Love or Beck or anyone else; he deserves to be tried, convicted, and put in jail for life. But when he himself expresses a desire to stop doing murders, I felt that. I want that for you, too, Joe. When he commits murder, however accidental (if you consider murder a spoiler, do you know this show at all?), his voiceover panics and repeats "This isn't me" — but we all know that it is.

Without spoiling some juicy twists, You Season 2 does not retread old territory. It pulls the rug out from what could have been a formulaic, almost procedural show, keeping us tense and guessing right until the final moments. Joe might think this is a love story, but we know better, and we're making it to the end — even if no other character does.

You Season 2 is now streaming on Netflix.