When Hulu dropped the first season of Future Man in Winter 2017, it took me and many others by surprise with its blend of sci-fi tropes, sharp and self-aware writing, over-the-top gore and debauchery, and genuine character development. There is a ton to love about that first season, from the amazing cast—particularly the human-puppy-dog Josh Hutcherson, who needed a role like Joosh in order to escape the shadow of Peeta—to the writing, which seems to revel in keeping you on your toes. It’s the kind of show that has you laughing at a dick joke ten seconds before shedding a tear at the beauty of human connection—in other words, a great one. If you haven’t seen the first season yet and any of that sounds appealing, go give it a stream!

But I’m not here today to sing the praises of Future Man’s first season—I’m here to talk about the second. Hulu dropped season two on January 11 2019, almost exactly a year after I watched the first. It should’ve been the perfect time of year for a show like this: the post new-year doldrums, when something a little shocking and touching might help shake loose the winter malaise. My expectations were high and I came away disappointed. Big surprise. But really, that’s on me—particularly because if I had been paying attention to the end of season one, I might’ve seen some big ol’ warning signs pointing to future trouble (and no, not the fun kind this show is about).

So without further ado: here are some thoughts about what Future Man season one got right and why season two doesn’t make the cut. Note that there will be spoilers.

1. The plot

In the final episode of season one, the main characters finally complete their mission: the assassination of Elias Kronish and destruction of his research laboratory. Freedom fighters Tiger (Eliza Coupe) and Wolf (Derek Wilson) time travel back to the future (their original time period) while protagonist Josh Futterman (Josh Hutcherson) is locked up as a terrorist. After passing an unstated amount of time in prison, he wakes up one day to the familiar rumblings of time travel as a portal appears in his cell. Roll credits.

This is the exact moment season two picks up, and it’s quickly revealed that it’s not Wolf and Tiger who have come to free Josh, but yet another band of future rebels—with another silly naming convention—who intend to use him as a weapon in their war. Naturally, they kidnap Josh and bring him to their time. At the same time (literally!), Wolf and Tiger have finally returned following their successful crusade to greet the world they fought for, a world which is… not that different. It’s a running gag in the show that messing around in the past rarely works out as intended, and in this case, all the events of season one have accomplished is to alter a few dates and names in history. Hence, the Biotics are replaced by the less aggressive “Bio-Techs”; the war between augmented and all-natural humans is over; and Kronish’s former partner Dr. Stu Camillo (Haley Joel-Osment) has become an AI super-being and supreme leader of the Bio-Tech society. Surprise!

After the characters have begun to get settled in their new time, the show introduces two societies: the NAG (New Above-Ground), a burgeoning, alternate-reality version of the underground rebel society from which Tiger and Wolf first came; and the Mons, the last remaining Bio-Tech camp where Stu is prepping the population to depart Earth (now a desert wasteland) and colonize Mars. The people of the Mons are hive-like, happy, and industrious without being particularly intelligent or individual. In comparison, the people of the NAG are scrappy, idiosyncratic, and completely backwards, consumed with meaningless rituals and ignorant of the whole of human history.

Right off the bat, it’s not a particularly interesting vision of the future, and is made even worse by lack of budget. In comparison with the openness of season one’s settings, the NAG and the Mons feel both physically and narratively restrictive—in no small part because they’re instantly recognizable as a post-apocalyptic adaptation of the old city-mouse/country-mouse story. It’s the kind of thing that wouldn’t be too bad for a 1-2 episode arc—but don’t hold your breath, because almost the entirety of season two takes place in these two locales. Gone is the variety of season one, where the narrative device of time-travel brought with it a constant sense of progress and exploration. Without it, season two quickly begins to feel as empty and lifeless as its desert background—trapped in a “futuristic” setting that’s just one big missed opportunity.

As the season unfolds, one feels that time-travel isn’t the only thing that’s missing. There’s also a serious lack of purpose and urgency. From the very first episode the gang is split up, and the season is halfway over before they get back together. To make matters worse, it’s not like they’re working independently towards some goal. No, our heroes spend most of this season just… meandering. Compare with season one, where the characters’ main goal is established in the very first episode and accomplished in the last, with conflict and action in the middle—a classic story sandwich. It’s not as though I would want season two to repeat the story of season one in a new setting… but is it too much to ask for a bit of structure?

I do think you have to recognize the difficult spot the show’s writers were in. Season one wrapped things up just a little too completely, tying almost all the loose ends into a neat bow. Obviously, the creators thought they might not get a chance to continue their story. Unfortunately, this creates a challenge for season two, where the showrunners have to introduce wholly new characters, conflicts, and settings in order to avoid writing over their own work. Voilà: the distant future, the Mons and the NAG.

But, hold up… seems like they missed something. They’ve got new characters, a new setting… what about the conflict? Must’ve gotten lost in the jump. Where the first season feels urgent and important, and moves effortlessly between the silly and the high-stakes, the second season just feels exhausted. Even the characters don’t seem that interested in what happens to them. I relate to Josh’s reaction when he sees he’s been chosen once again as the savior for a group of future-rebels. This tired thing again? It’s all so repetitive and low-energy that it’s hard to get invested in, even as the show winks at itself and wryly points this all out. The end-result? A slow-paced season that comes off as cynical instead of heartfelt.

2. The characters

Inarguably, one of the best parts of Future Man’s first season is watching its characters grow and change. Tiger and Wolf, initially introduced as comically flat caricatures of post-apocalyptic action heroes, grow over the course of the season to become complex and nuanced characters. There’s a real joy in seeing the world through their eyes as they discover everyday life in 20th century America: the pleasures of food and capitalism, the joy of camaraderie, the power of music, the love and support of family, and the endless stupidity of human society. This sense of de-familiarization with and rediscovery of all the things that we take for granted is both beautiful and comedic, and adds poignancy to the most fucked-up scenes and situations. We relate when Tiger sees a baby for the first time and marvels at its defenselessness. And again later, when she sees another and asks, “You guys ever eat those?” If you’ve never lived in human society, that’s a pretty fair question. (Or, if you will, a modest proposal.)

At the same time, our hero Josh goes through his own journey: from comically useless janitor to comically useless time traveler. I kid. But really, there is clear growth. Gradually, we watch him become more confident, more comfortable in dangerous and high-stakes situations, and much less self-interested. He’s still nothing like the heroic characters he’s modeled after—selfless, strong, brave—but he’s real, and impressive in his own way.

Obviously, all of this creates a small problem for the second season. After all, it would be next to impossible to recreate the joy of watching Tiger, a cold-blooded killer, become a live-in maid to a southern black family in the 60s. Or watching Wolf, a stereotypical action-hero badass, become a sensitive master chef and bisexual icon. Or even watching Josh dress up in drag ostensibly to break up a marriage (but really—we know it’s just ’cause he wanted to, right?). These developments feel fresh, honest, and unexpected.

Unfortunately, recreating the character arcs of season one is exactly what season two attempts to do. Wolf shows how adaptable and loving he is after inheriting a family from his alternate-timeline-counterpart and gradually becoming devoted to them. Tiger reveals a caring side as she falls in love—or some weird variety of it—with the AI overlord Stu, even going “rathole-to-rathole” with him. Josh, well… Josh becomes a dog.

Josh aside, does any of this actually give us new information or insight about our main characters? No. It’s just retreading the same old ground. As such, it completely lacks the key element that made these stories interesting the first time around: unpredictability. No matter how cute the members of Wolf’s “cluster” manage to be (and they are very cute), there’s nothing to surprise us here. The same could be said about either of the other two main characters—and since this season eliminates almost every supporting character from the first, it’s a heavy blow indeed, and yet another weight bogging down season two.

Conclusion

Listen, I don’t want to make it sound like I hated sitting through this season. I enjoyed it, sometimes. It checks a lot of the same boxes that made season one fun: lovable characters, great performances, science fiction references, super gross humor. Plus, some new stuff: Haley Joel Osment totally nails it as the insecure AI overlord who is both the creepiest and most relatable character, and the writers are still finding fun new ways to make their audience uncomfortable.

(Some of the grossest things this season include a pile of dead, floppy Josh Hutchersons, uncomfortably drawn-out starfish sex, weird alternate universe incest stuff, horrible allergic reactions, familial orgies, attempted pee drinking, and the image of Josh Hutcherson in a muzzle living off worms, which I will never forget.)

However, everything that this season successfully brings over from the first is outweighed by the essential qualities it loses: momentum, honesty, and the element of surprise. The end result is a decently enjoyable season of television that somehow manages to be off-puttingly gross without being particularly shocking or interesting. Yes, it has some great lines… but it could’ve had so much more than that.

Two out of five: funny, but also slow, lackluster, and hard to watch while eating