The murders are grisly. The new headmaster is suspicious. The shadows of Nevermore stretch darker than before. But in Wednesday Season 2, Part One, the real tension doesn’t come from what’s lurking in the woods; it comes from the dining table. This is a season about family, the kind you inherit and the kind you choose, and the impossible line between protecting someone and controlling them.
The sharpest blade this season is the one between Wednesday and Morticia. After a summer spent sharpening her psychic abilities, Wednesday returns to Nevermore with more control than ever until the black tears start. To her, they’re an annoyance. To Morticia, they’re a warning. She’s seen psychic exhaustion before, in her sister, and she knows how that story ends: in a hospital, locked away, mind unraveling.
So she does what she thinks any good mother would do: she takes away the very thing she believes is feeding the danger. Goody’s book isn’t just a grimoire to Wednesday; it’s a tether to her independence, her identity, and her purpose. When Morticia burns it rather than hand it back, it’s not just an act of protection; it’s an act of war.
That fire doesn’t just consume paper; it consumes trust.
This is where Wednesday hits something deeper than the monster-of-the-week formula. It’s not just about who’s behind the latest string of murders; it’s about the scars left when the people who love you most don’t trust you to save yourself.
Around this central fracture, the season plays with mirrors of what “family” can look like. Bianca, the siren who’s spent most of her life playing the adult in her relationship with her mother, finds herself circling Morticia in a way that feels almost maternal. It’s an unexpected connection, one built not on sentiment, but on the stability Morticia can provide.
And then there’s Enid. The late bloomer who finally “wolfed out” at the end of last season has stepped fully into her confidence. She’s brighter, bolder, surer of herself until Wednesday’s vision shows her dead. For all her walls, all her deadpan deflections, Wednesday’s desperation to change that future is proof she feels more than she’ll ever admit out loud.
Even Barry Dort, the Poe-like new headmaster, is less interesting as a mystery suspect and more interesting as a chess piece in this web of manipulation. His influence over Bianca, his positioning with Morticia, all feel like reminders that control doesn’t just come from family; it can be outsourced.
By the end of Part One, the unanswered question isn’t just “Who’s killing the students?” It’s “Can Wednesday outgrow a legacy that’s already written in her blood?” Because curses don’t always wear cloaks or speak in riddles. Sometimes they look like love. Sometimes they burn your book to save your life.
And if Part Two answers the murder mystery but leaves the family wounds open, it will still feel like the truest ending this show could give us.
Wednesday is now streaming on Netflix.