Mindhunter Season Two (Spoiler-Filled) Review

I thoroughly enjoyed the first season of Netflix’s Mindhunter. I loved the quasi-procedural nature of the series (something I rarely enjoy in television), as the show explored the elements that made some of the country’s most violent serial killers tick. But, despite enjoying watching the investigations and the nascent stages of criminal profiling develop, season one wasn’t perfect. In fact, it had a pretty glaring problem: the show only cared about developing Holden as a character. Sure, we learned cursory information about the show’s other two leads (who didn’t really read as leads in season one – something that was rightfully rectified in season two). Bill Tensch has (had?) a family, a wife who wished he was home more (which we realize might have been more than just a stereotypical request by the end of season two) and an adopted son who appeared to be a bit developmentally delayed (something Bill adamantly denied was the case while talking to the therapist in season two). Dr. Wendy Carr represented the scientific side of the department, the only woman in a world inhabited by men, whose own personal life existed of a domineering ex-girlfriend and a professional life stuck in the closet. Compared to Holden, who was given a two-dimensional girlfriend who dumped him by the end of the first season, both Bill and Wendy were woefully underserved in season one.

Well, season two completely flipped the script, for good and for ill, focusing on both characters while putting Holden’s personal development on hold (which worked wonderfully for the character – he’s still the cocky agent who knows he’s right and is willing to wait out other’s theories to prove it, making him a great foil for Bill, as he stumbles through his professional and personal set-backs). The best moments of season two of Mindhunter can be traced to the exploration not of the criminals interviewed or the investigation into the Atlanta Child Murders, but to the impact of the professional world on both Bill and Wendy’s personal lives.

Sure, having Bill’s son Brian witness and potentially participate in the murder of a toddler was a bit on the nose in terms of reflecting the ugliness of the Behavioral Sciences Unit in his home life (and I found myself wishing he relied a bit more on Wendy, the expert in this sort of thing, for reassurance and help in the process that unfolded after the news broke), but it was effective in breaking Bill down into a character we can understand and empathize with. No longer is he just the gruff G-Man partnered with the more cerebral partner. This is a man who clearly loves his family but has no idea how to really relate to his wife and child. In his line of work, he’s rarely home. His son isn’t interested in the same things as he is, and there’s no way to really connect with him – and when he tries, it’s awkward and forced. It’s a sad thing to watch, but something that most people can understand on some level. And, for someone who’s great at getting what he wants out of a suspect or criminal, it’s interesting to see that those skills can’t help Bill at home. He can play the fancy FBI agent with a host of grisly tales at a party, but he wants to be someone different at home and he doesn’t know how he really fits there. It’s a tragedy, really. And, seeing him come home to the cliched empty house in the finale? That was a gut punch, even though we could all see it coming a mile away.

Similarly, Wendy’s season two arc was also a study in the tragedy of her job and the time. It’s not exactly easy to be openly gay in the world of law enforcement these days (academia, her former home, remains a much more accepting world, assuming one is at the right university), but in the early 80s, as Reagan took office? That was a no man’s land. But to watch Wendy grow as a professional (the ideal interview team for the serial killers would seem to be Wendy and Bill, with Holden tending to empathize a bit too much and Gregg Smith just being a bit of a mess), only to have the responsibility of interviewing subjects ripped away was heartbreaking. And, like Bill, the stress of work spilled over into her personal life, resulting in the end of her relationship with Kay. Yes, Wendy was right to be miffed that Kay was pressuring her to be more out while categorizing their relationship as nothing important to her husband*, but that’s a conversation, not a break-up. Had that incident occurred earlier in the season, perhaps Kay and Wendy might still be together, figuring things out. But Wendy’s own anger over her work (and, her own frustration at being a closeted lesbian who couldn’t be her true self around her peers) lead to Wendy making a rash decision.

*As a former divorce attorney, I really can’t fault Kay for backtracking with her husband just to maintain a relationship with her son. I get it, I really do. I just wish she’d taken a minute to calmly explain the situation to Wendy prior to that point – Wendy likely would have gotten it, and it could have avoided all the issues that followed. But, oh well, I guess no one on this show can be happy in this line of work.

While I found the character driven elements of the series far more satisfying in season two (particularly the Wendy arc, which was masterfully handled by Anna Torv – although Holt McCallany’s work as Bill was also excellent), I found the procedural side of the story lacking. Perhaps it was because I was well acquainted with the Atlanta Child Murders prior to watching the season (check out the Atlanta Monster podcast for more information on the cases), perhaps it was because the series spent so long on one case and pushed the interview portion to the sidelines of the show. Or perhaps it was because the writers didn’t quite find the narrative sweet spot in integrating the case and the characters (while in season one the procedural/case side of the story was king, this time around the character beats were far more interesting than the case). Whatever it was, things just didn’t click on the case front this time around*.

*I will say that the Wendy interview wherein she revealed her own past relationship was a season highlight – and the response from her colleagues was also quite telling, albeit from a character perspective. The Mason interview was also interesting, although, much like with Wendy’s work, it was meant more to flesh out Bill’s personal life than really get into Manson’s head.

Which brings me to the conundrum I was contemplating as I finished season two: Where does Mindhunter go from here? After two generally successful seasons that were successful for very different reasons (procedural vs. character), what’s next for the series (assuming Netflix renews it, seeing as the network has started culling shows after two-three seasons like clockwork)? What type of show is Mindhunter in season three? There’s only a finite number of serial killers the characters can interview. There’s only so much the series can say about the personal lives of individuals work in the BSU. And there’s only so much the show can do with the BTK flashes, considering he wasn’t caught until 2005 – a very long time in the future of the series.

There might be a way to better balance the personal and the professional arcs within a season, but to do so, the series would need to make some major choices. Is this a series about delving into the psyche of killers to create a definitive profile (or as close to definitive as one can get) of what makes a serial killer? If so, it needs to focus on getting into the minds of the killers still unexplored with a deeper shovel. Is it interested in seeing how the current profile works in real time to catch killers? Well, then it needs to spend more time telling us what that profile is and actively having the characters pursue those leads (instead of spending several episodes watching local law enforcement balk at the profile and refuse to listen – which was certainly historically accurate, but not great television). And if the show cares more about the characters it is building, well, then we need to spend more time with them together and out of the office. At some point Wendy will likely need to out herself – or at least reveal more of who she is to her colleagues. Bill is going to have to reconcile his work with the loss of his family. And Holden will have to decide if there’s room in his tightly managed existence for someone other than himself. Without any outside characters to bounce these issues off of, these three characters need to build bonds with each other. Wendy and Bill took huge leaps in this direction in season two. I certainly hope we get some more of this in season three.

I enjoyed season two of Mindhunter. I liked the focus on Bill and Wendy, after a season spent with only the barest of development. But in order to take the next step in the show’s evolution, to go from merely a good Peak TV series to a great one, the writers need to take a step back and decide what matters to them. Once they’ve figure it out, season three could easily be the show’s best yet.