Ramy – Season Two (Spoiler-Free) Review

An interesting shift has happened over the last couple of months in the streaming war between Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, Disney+, and AppleTV+: Hulu has surged ahead in the race to develop the best original content. Yes, a large part of that surge has come from taking on the FX on Hulu imprint (which has also come with some confusion over which network gets to claim those impressive and award-worthy shows – FX or Hulu in the upcoming Emmy battle), but Hulu already had a strong set of original content in its repertoire that some folks might have just missed in the past (I’ll have a review of one of Hulu’s new shows – Love, Victor – up soon; a series that it “rescued” from its Disney+ sibling when that network deemed it too adult – which is really isn’t). One of those great shows? Ramy, an intensely personal series about a young Muslim Egyptian-American man and his extended family navigating life in New Jersey from the mind of Ramy Youssef. Part of the recent trend of young auteurs creating shows closely aligned to their personal point of view (see also Donald Glover’s Atlanta, Aziz Ansari’s Master of None, and Maya Erskine, Anna Konkle, and Sam Zvibleman‘s Pen15), the series has crafted complex and compelling characters within the half-hour dramedy format, advancing a clear series arc around Ramy but still having time for stand-alone episodes highlighting each of the major series characters each season. Not a simple feat with only ten episodes each season.

The second season of the series revolves around Ramy’s quest to find spiritual fulfillment under the tutelage of a new spiritual advisor, Sheikh Ali Malik (played by two-time Oscar winner and all-around incredible actor Mahershala Ali). Naturally, there are complications in this quest, as we know by now that Ramy is a character who desperately needs self-reflection (and probably some therapy) to better understand his propensity to throw himself fully into something to find contentment with life. It’s a universal struggle that transcends race, religion, and background, and it makes Ramy into a wholly relatable character. We’ve all been there: standing at a crossroads, not sure where we fit within out family, friends, and the larger world. Ramy has managed to skate by for awhile without needing to face up to the fact that the problem is internal and not external – that he needs to find what works for him, what gives him joy, to get the most out of his life, rather than simply subscribing to what those around him tell him will fill that void in his world.

And that’s what we see from the other characters that surround him throughout the season: how each confronts a similar struggle to fill a void in their lives. For some, it’s something that has a solution (trying to find a new job after losing one they held for years), for others, it’s a much more tragic look at a life that was all but destroyed by internal and external forces. But the series never shies away from showing the ugly truth about life: everyone, on some level, is struggling with something. Often we hide these struggles, forcing ourselves to fight an internal battle without the benefit of those we love and trust out of fear of not living up to what is expected of us. While those around him opt to work through their battles in secret, Ramy seeks out the Sheikh in an attempt to cure what ails him. Can finding solace in religious practice “fix” Ramy? Well, I think we all can guess that the clear answer is no, as Ramy looks to the deepening of his faith life as a panacea rather than a tool to help him navigate the world – another element of the series that is universal in its message.

Ramy Youssef has created something truly special with Ramy, opening a window into a world that most Americans haven’t seen (a Muslim Egyptian-American family) and showing that what seems foreign and different is really pretty similar to any American family. The themes addressed are universal and easily understood. Plus, you get to learn more about a religion that you might not have had much experience with (I know I’m certainly more knowledgeable about Islam than I was before I began watching the series, and I’m grateful for that knowledge and the research it prompted). But, outside of the complex interpersonal drama of the series, it’s also pretty funny. Sure, season two leans much more into the “drama” side of the term dramedy, but I still found myself laughing along at the series’ lighter moments. In addition to the strong performances of Youssef and Ali, the cast is also incredible. Hiam Abbass (who you might recognize from Succession, playing a very different wife and mother) is genuinely fascinating as Maysa, Ramy’s mother; Amr Waked deftly navigates the surprisingly emotionally complex role of Farouk, Ramy’s father. The two standout episodes of season two, however, belong to May Calamawy as Deena, Ramy’s high achieving sister, who is pursuing an education rather than getting married – but still struggles with that choice, and Laith Nakli as Uncle Naseem, whose standalone episode broke my heart. Ramy is a plain great series, and I cannot recommend it enough.

Ramy‘s second season is currently streaming on Hulu.