Warning: contains spoilers

By finishing its fourth season in such a state of emotional devastation, Orange is the New Black certainly upped the ante for season five. It saw the end of one of its most popular characters when an untrained correctional officer inadvertently killed everyone’s favourite librarian, Poussey; another guard, Humps, walked in to Litchfield with a gun, until the prisoners intercepted it in the subsequent uproar and the beginnings of a riot appeared to take shape. Early details about the show’s return promised that the entire season would take place in the immediate aftermath of the firearm cliffhanger, taking us deep into the riot. With clear allusions to the Black Lives Matter movement laid out and ready to be taken further, it sounded promising and ambitious.

It is ambitious, but not entirely successful. OITNB has at times struggled to balance two very distinct tones: ridiculous, warm-hearted slapstick comedy that snaps into serious drama, devoted to pushing its message about penal reform. This time the disconnect is enough to give you whiplash. A prison riot largely centred on the unjust killing of an innocent inmate should be sufficient drama to sustain the season, but it’s as if the writers lost their nerve – and quickly.

What we have instead is a series of set pieces of varying levels of seriousness, with little time for any of the principle storylines to settle in and have an impact. The prisoners are left to run Litchfield alone after taking the guards and warden hostage. A coffee shop is established, which brings together the comedy Nazis and the ethnicities they profess to despise, all in the name of caffeine. There’s an art competition to build a tribute to Poussey, as well as a makeover segment and a training montage. There’s a subplot that plays out like a horror film, and is genuinely frightening. But in a particularly queasy episode-long stunt, the prisoners force their captive guards to reenact American Idol at gunpoint. There’s no real aim other than humiliation, and it’s hard to find the humour that’s supposed to be there.

There are high points … Taystee proves herself to be a negotiator worthy of a position in the UN, not just Caputo’s office. Photograph: Jojo Whilden/Netflix

Where OITNB succeeds is in its flexibility. With such a huge cast, it has been able to shift its attentions over the course of five seasons from Piper, the waspy new inmate approaching prison with wide-eyed horror, to other characters who more accurately reflect the problems with the system. Though I’ve missed Laverne Cox’s Sophia having anything much to do, the renewed focus this season on Taystee and Gloria is very welcome. Taystee proves herself to be a budding activist and negotiator worthy of a position in the UN, not just Caputo’s office, while Gloria’s attempts to find a form of motherhood somewhere, anywhere, is heartbreaking. Uzo Aduba is astonishing as Suzanne/Crazy Eyes, whose stability begins to crumble as her routine breaks down, and the short flashback to longtime inmate Frieda’s doomsday-prepper origins is surprisingly sweet and emotional.

But too much has stayed the same. The writers continue to play Alex and Piper’s will-they-won’t-they relationship like an accordion. Nicky may be sober but she’s still craving Lorna, who is still living in a fantasy world. Red hams it up with the aid of more back story, but even her sudden reliance on “vitamins” and fixation on getting revenge on Piscatella isn’t enough to lift her out of the same old prison-matriarch routine. Doggett’s confusing relationship with the guard who sexually assaulted her rumbles on, while the injustices of the system remain exactly the same: despite the prisoners demanding a voice, there still isn’t enough money to treat them as human beings and turn a profit.

But too much has stayed the same … the writers continue to play Alex and Piper’s will-they-won’t-they relationship like an accordion. Photograph: Jojo Whilden/Netflix

One of the key problems with the season is timing. It’s hard to grasp the timeframe. It officially takes place over three days, but it could be more, or less. That means it simultaneously drags, and then, towards the end, after ambling around for a few hours, everything happens all at once. This may be of less significance for a streaming drama, with each episode urged onwards by autoplay, but it still makes the season sag midway through.

The last episode, however, was everything it should have been up until this point, bringing a genuine feeling of shock and peril to the show. It has been renewed for another two seasons after this, with showrunner Jenji Kohan remaining in charge, but it’s hard to know where it’s going to go after such an enormous reset. Let’s hope it runs towards the risk, instead of hiding in the basement.