Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Undone: Season 2’ on Amazon Prime Video, in Which This Delightful Series Gifts Us Another Trippy Trip Through the Multiverse

In 2019, Bojack Horseman creator/writer/collaborators Raphael Bob-Waksberg and Kate Purdy debuted their new project, Undone, on Amazon Prime, to critical acclaim. It boasts a Richard Linklateresque rotoscoped-animation aesthetic (see Waking Life, A Scanner Darkly and the recent, wonderful Apollo 10½) and a brilliantly conceived sci-fi timeline-hopping concept that the zeitgeist has recently dubbed, thanks to a certain superhero megafranchise, “the multiverse” (you may sigh deeply here). Don’t let the (what?) everything (where?) everywhere (when?) all at once trend wear you out, because Undone continues to feature inspired lead performances by Rosa Salazar and the ever-lovin’ Bob Odenkirk and layered, thoughtful storytelling.

UNDONE: SEASON 2: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

Opening Shot: Zoom in on Alma sitting at the mouth of a cave – just like at the very end of season one.

The Gist: A brief recap of previous events: In the words of her mother (Constance Marie), Alma (Salazar) “stole my car and drove to Mexico to see her dead father” – the type of thing that doesn’t make much sense, unless you’re Alma or her father. And there she sits, peering in, seeing a glowing light. “Dad?” she says. An older woman holding a bouquet of flowers walks up to Alma. They briefly chat. The woman seems to maybe know what’s going on with the merging of parallel realities and other complicated sci-fi things. Alma realizes her mother’s car is gone, indicating that she’s in an alt-timeline (although one might wonder if one might struggle to discern which timeline is the original timeline, or just a slightly different timeline). She goes to her parents’ house, and there, yes, indeed, is her father, Jacob (Odenkirk), in his office, very much alive and not dead.

Jacob explains things to his daughter, and to us, since we’re right there, cozy in her point-of-view. (Remember: Alma inherited her super abilities from Jacob and his mother, although maybe it’s just a case of extra-heartbreaking schizophrenia.) The timelines realigned, and her consciousness will soon do the same. E.g.: In this reality, speaks Spanish, plays the piano and is a college prof. He takes her to the lecture hall and she stands in front of her students and doesn’t know what to do or say, but then everything she should do and say seems to just spontaneously erupt from her subconscious. Wild. WILD.

She settles into the timeline in a cyclic montage of toothbrushing, teaching, studying for her PhD and all the daily stuff of Alma’s new life. Her dear father is alive, and this is clearly a better life for Alma, right? Right? RIGHT? Her time-travel skills are not right, however. Jacob insists that they got lucky with how things panned out and shouldn’t futz with space-time anymore. But Alma wonders if they shouldn’t leap quantumly back in time to save her grandmother from a terrible life of suffering in a mental institution. Not that she can right now, though. The Fog just drops her, plop, right back where she started. But also, in the here and now of this particular here and now, her mother seems to be… going through something. Depressed. Secretive, perhaps. And her sister Becca (Angelique Cabral) seems to be tangled in the metaphysical threads here too. And here is where they say, in the parlance of the times, TO BE CONTINUED.

What Shows Will It Remind You Of? What hath Quantum Leap wrought? Well, Undone and Russian Doll are surely among the best of its spiritual offspring.

Our Take: Just in the 20-odd minutes of this episode of Undone, we get the sense that endings are beginnings, but also beginnings are endings, and maybe the concept of beginning and ending is just an illusion, a limitation we place upon ourselves in order to give our lives a sense of structure – and a sense of order and sanity, perhaps. Or at least that’s the way it would be if we were Alma, who’s gifted – or cursed! – with a greater perspective on reality. We also get a sense of what it’s like to want to make more of ourselves, to make our own and others’ lives better. Should one tackle such a quest, and attempt to wrangle destiny? Or be like the Beatles and just let it be?

Big ideas here. Profound at times. But they’re encased in an oddly buoyant and funny context that also manages to be substantial and emotionally resonant. Salazar and Odenkirk are in tonal concert within the trippy setting and concept, finding comedy and affection in the material and making it seem effortless. Visually, the series might not work if it was live-action and not dwelling ever so slightly in the uncanny valley; that the cast nevertheless maintains poignancy despite this surreal layer only underscores the value of their performances. In this second season, Purdy and Bob-Waksberg have set up another adventure for their protagonist, who has yet to learn that problems are omnipresent in any reality – or at least refuses to accept that truth, and wishes to fight the good, noble fight and quest for happiness. Such is a fundamental element of the human condition: The world is imperfect, at odds with our yearning for perfection.

Sex and Skin: None.

Parting Shot: “WHAT.” Becca says this, standing slackjawed as Alma makes a series of explanatory assumptions that would make plenty of sense to Alma, but not Becca.

Sleeper Star: “MY LITTLE WOMEN!” Odenkirk has the type of raspy-sooting voice and warm demeanor rendering him the human manifestation of the concept of hugging.

Our Call: STREAM IT. To not continue watching Undone would be foolhardy.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com.