TL;DR: Wednesday Season 2 Part 2 is spooky fun with stellar performances, but Netflix’s split-season experiment is choking its pacing. Great cast, great Burton flair, but messy structure. A ghoulishly good time—just not as cohesive as it should be.

There’s something uniquely cruel about waiting for the second half of a season you were already halfway invested in. It’s like someone serving you half a pumpkin pie, promising the rest “soon,” then showing up months later with a crust that’s gone soggy and a filling that doesn’t quite match the first batch. That, in a nutshell, is the Netflix split-season formula, and it’s strangling one of their best shows: Wednesday.

Part 2 of Season 2 should have been a triumphant return, a tightrope walk across the line between gothic camp and heartfelt outsider story. Instead, it feels like the show got caught between algorithms and artistry. Don’t get me wrong: I still had fun. I still devoured the episodes. Jenna Ortega remains an unstoppable force of deadpan charisma. But the pacing? The momentum? The narrative cohesion? All casualties of Netflix’s insistence on chopping a season in half and calling it strategy.

Why Part 2 Feels Off – The Split-Season Problem

I binged Part 1 of Season 2 in a single night, the way the Netflix gods intended. The cliffhanger—Wednesday being tossed out of a window, Tyler escaping the asylum—was classic serialized melodrama, just weird enough to make me mash the “next episode” button if one had been there. But instead, I had to wait. And wait. And wait.

By the time Part 2 arrived, I remembered the vibes but not the details. The “mystery box” threads had gone cold, and the new villains introduced in Part 2 felt like strangers crashing a party I was already leaving. It’s not that they’re bad villains. They just weren’t seeded deeply enough in Part 1 to feel like organic payoffs. The whole experience reminded me of Stranger Things 4, where splitting the season gave us one good cliffhanger but killed the show’s natural rhythm.

Netflix claims this model helps “sustain conversation.” Honestly? It does the opposite. A weekly release could keep fans buzzing, theorizing, and memeing. A full-season drop gives us a cultural moment, a binge-fest that dominates timelines for a week. But a half-season drop followed by another half-season months later? It’s narrative limbo.

Cameos, Spirits, and Gaga

Still, Wednesday has always thrived on its eccentric cast, and Part 2 delivers on that front. Lady Gaga’s much-discussed cameo as Rosaline Rotwood could have been a stunt—another pop star wedged awkwardly into genre TV—but she pulls it off. Gaga slides into the Addams universe like she was born to haunt crypts, a spectral presence who’s equal parts glam and grotesque.

Then there’s Gwendoline Christie, back from the dead as Larissa Weems, now recast as a spectral guide. Honestly, this version of Weems works better than her living self. Watching Christie spar verbally with Catherine Zeta-Jones’ Morticia is like watching two vampires argue about whose candelabra has more historical significance. Their scenes sizzle with macabre wit, the kind of energy the show needs more of.

Christopher Lloyd, returning to the Addams sandbox decades after Uncle Fester, also gives a performance that shouldn’t work but somehow does. As Professor Orloff—a disembodied head in a tank—he manages tenderness through sheer vocal delivery. It’s absurd and moving, like if Futurama’s heads-in-jars had emotional depth.

But the packed cast has its drawbacks. Thandiwe Newton’s Dr. Fairburn is criminally underused. Billie Piper’s Isadora Capri suddenly gets development in Part 2, but it feels like the writers remembered her last minute. Heather Matarazzo’s Judi Stonehearst barely registers. It’s the Netflix ensemble problem in microcosm: too many stars, not enough oxygen.

The Addams Family Problem

The biggest thematic issue of Part 2 isn’t the cameos, though. It’s the show’s obsession with tying every major plot back to the Addams family legacy. Season 1 hinted at Gomez and Morticia’s past, and that was fun—a gothic flashback, a little connective tissue. But Season 2 doubles down, revealing that even mysterious programs and villains ultimately loop back to Addams bloodlines.

On paper, this sounds juicy. Who doesn’t want more Morticia backstory? In practice, it undercuts Wednesday herself. The Addams family has always been fascinating because they’re weirdos by choice, not by destiny. By positioning them as outcast royalty, the show strips away the contrast that made Wednesday pop in Season 1: she wasn’t just an oddball, she was an oddball in a sea of other oddballs.

It reminds me of when Star Wars decided every major plotline had to connect to the Skywalkers. Sure, it raises the stakes, but it also shrinks the universe. Wednesday works best when she’s clashing with outsiders and institutions on her own terms, not when she’s playing heir to an Addams throne.

The Romance That Refuses to Die

Can we talk about the romance subplots? Because, honestly, the show still hasn’t figured them out. Season 1 flirted with love triangles, and they mostly landed because they were woven into the mystery. Season 2, especially in Part 2, doubles down on teen romance but never commits enough for it to matter.

Enid finally gets her due in Part 2, with an episode that gives her and Wednesday the focus they deserved all along. Their dynamic remains one of the best things about the show, balancing warmth and razor-edged sarcasm. But outside of that, the student romances feel like filler. The writers can’t seem to decide whether they want to build Hogwarts-esque melodrama or gothic detective pulp, so we get half-measures of both.

Burton’s Macabre Magic

For all its stumbles, Part 2 benefits from Tim Burton’s steady hand in the director’s chair. Burton helms the final two episodes, and they’re where the show feels most alive. Episodes 7 and 8 lean into spectacle, macabre set pieces, and unabashed weirdness. They’re not afraid to be grotesque, not afraid to indulge in the Addamses’ ghoulish DNA.

Episode 6 plays slower, almost a character study, but by 7 and 8 we’re knee-deep in gothic theatrics: crypts, curses, cliffhangers. Burton hasn’t always been consistent in his later career, but here, his fingerprints give the show cohesion it desperately needs.

Too Many Threads, Not Enough Time

And that’s the tragedy of Season 2 Part 2. The bones are solid. The performances are stellar. The directing, when Burton takes over, is exquisite. But the season is bloated with too many plotlines, too many characters, too much mythology all jammed into a format that doesn’t let them breathe.

The mystery element—Wednesday as our pint-sized Poirot—is still fun, but the constant twists feel forced. The “gotchas” aren’t set up cleanly. The cliffhanger (yes, there’s another one) points toward a clear Season 3 direction, but I can’t shake the worry that Netflix will keep splitting seasons and breaking the pacing just when the show needs momentum most.

Final Thoughts

Wednesday Season 2 Part 2 proves the show still has bite, but Netflix’s split-season model is pulling its teeth. The characters shine, the cameos sparkle, and the directing revels in gothic excess—but the structure undercuts the story. If Wednesday is going to thrive long-term, it needs either a weekly model or a full-season drop. Anything else is sabotage.