Stumbled onto Ramy Season 2

The pandemic has got me reaching out to old series I know and love. Not like I need an excuse; I rewatch series as if I’ll be graded on them afterwards. This time round it was Frasier. There are so many new series I have promised myself I would watch, but baby I hear the blues a-calling day and night instead. Thankfully, there was one new release that I knew would temporarily break me out of this obsession and that was the second season of Ramy. I loved the first season of this coming-of-age story of a young, religious Muslim struggling to balance his romantic desires with his ethics; an unlikely viewing choice for a chronic atheist. But there is something very intimate about Youssef’s tale that I cannot get enough of. I just love a protagonist that is so beautifully human. Also, very cute, but I promise it is mostly the human part that got me invested.

Last season, we followed Ramy on his individual quest for self-actualisation that resulted in (spoilers) sleeping with a married woman and making out with his cousin. Both of these, rest assured, he did not set out to do at the beginning of the season. For this second installment, Ramy realised he needed a spiritual guide to overcome his addiction to porn and, frankly, screwing up (pun not intended). Mahershala Ali was this welcome addition to the cast as the Sheikh that Ramy turns to. I don’t want to spoil the ending of season two, as I have already done for season one, but let’s just say this season’s arc is far from a smooth ride. Ramy wants to become someone but refuses to accept who he currently is. The audience realises that this loveable character can only think of himself, almost using others as props to reach his own potential. He is borderline loathsome by the end of this season. There is, therefore, plenty of drama in this fundamentally comedic show, and have I mentioned how much I love this current direction in TV comedies? Dramas always failed to hold my attention, what with their longer runtimes and songs by ‘The Fray’, so this integration of complex characters in punchline-filled half hour segments is ideal for me.

Speaking of complex characters, this show is filled with them. Last season spent two episodes retracting focus from Ramy and instead giving a closer look to Ramy’s mother and sister; two episodes that come right after a cliff hanger in Ramy’s own plotline. But they are such strong episodes that almost have you forget that Ramy broke his Ramadan resolution by committing adultery. However, I am aware that there was criticism that female characters on the show were only dealt with in terms of sex, a criticism I don’t share myself because I think that sex is a general preoccupation throughout the show for male characters also. It seems the show’s creators were also aware of this criticism though, and we got to see Ramy’s mother and sister dealing with other aspects of their lives this time round. These were again some of my favourite episodes, especially since I thought the whole notion of the ‘Evil Eye’ was strictly a Greek thing.

Speaking of episodes focused on supporting characters, I think everyone will be talking about Uncle Naseem. Naseem was almost a caricature of the racist, obnoxious uncle that offered a limited sitcom feel to the otherwise balanced first season. With no more than a brief likable moment, in defence of a stranger quarrelling with her boyfriend, Nasseem was very easy to hate and disregard. So naturally, this season had to give us a heart breaking look into his life. He is still the racist, obnoxious uncle that we met in season one, but we learn of his struggles. He got upgraded from a caricature to a person.

You know how I said there would be no spoilers for season two? Well, I lied. I will, however, confine them all on this sinlge, easily skippable paragraph. I need to mention these spoilers so I can do what I do best; complain. The beginning of the season had me set up for disappointment. Ramy was too much of a centre piece for others and the show starting feeling unreal. He was the one causing big problems and resolving crises. A protagonist is fine to be the centre of his own tale, but once he’s the one driving large scale developments, this feels unjustified. The tone of the season is quickly found though; I fell back in love with the series by episode five. There is one bone I have to pick with this season, which funnily enough is the aforementioned criticism others had for season one. I swear I am not doing this for the sake of controversy. I was a little dissatisfied with how some of the female characters were dealt with, namely Ramy’s cousin and his fiancé/wife, depending on which episode you are watching. Zainab, Ramy’s future wife, is an undeveloped character and the romance spurring between them does not feel real, as a result. His cousin, on the other hand, shows up after a transatlantic flight, seemingly undecided about whether to break up Ramy’s wedding. As if a flight from Egypt to New Jersey would be a spur-of-the-moment decision; tickets were not booked in advance, they did not go to the airport three hours in advance and so on. It might just be me but I don’t think 2020 series can get away with characters maybe breaking up a wedding in another country. That is only accepted as a plausible plotline up to 1998 and only because Rachel did it and she gets a pass.

The beginning of this season is a bit slow, but you leave the second season with that same feeling of empathy that you did in season one. I think there is great benefit in telling honest and real stories and moving away from the classic sitcom setting of five to six loveable (mostly white) goofs meeting in a bar, café or apartment. I am very excited for season three and confident it will break me out of the next rewatch in line; my money is on Scrubs or Community. But word to the wise, have a strong drink handy for episode seven; it is a great episode, but the drink will help.