So I watched season one and season two back to back.

My general take on the writing was: meh. But that’s actually high praise from me, since I came to it as a Terry Pratchett fan who bought and loved the original book when it was first published.

I have so many friends who love Neil Gaman’s writing and have recommended it to me for decades. I’ve tried to read American Gods three times. The only thing I remember is the giant ball of yarn, which is the point I’ve given up every time. I did finish another of his books, but just…didn’t like it. Lovely descriptions, but just no characters I was interested in. I haven’t even managed to make it through the TV versions. I quit Sandman after twenty minutes, at the point that everyone that wasn’t an unpleasant white man was dead. I mean, honestly, I work in tech - if you swing a cat, you’ll hit a white guy who thinks he’s nearly supernatural . It’s too workaday to be entertaining.

So I’m pleased I managed to make it through Good Omens 2 with no complaints about the writing - though I dearly miss Terry’s trademark humor and whimsy.

The reason I’d call it ‘meh’ is probably the same reason I got through it at all. It seemed very much like standard ‘processing a breakup’ fic. The kind of thing you write and you think it’s about something else entirely and then in five years you come back to it and it was CLEARLY you working through your feelings about a breakup unconsciously. And there were real feelings there - which is why I stuck with it. Most of Neil’s writing is too cerebral for me - without the weight and heat of heart. But that’s also why it was just ‘meh’. It was the unexamined heart - a writer is never firing on all cylinders when their head and their heart are working at cross-purposes. It had that feel of stop and start, explosion and silence, that you feel when first learning to drive stick - the unpleasant impact of lack of control or finesse…everything is too raw.

It felt like someone writing about the death of an unconventional relationship. I didn’t mind the ending. There was truth and nuance there, however bitter. Though I’m sick to death of seeing queer love revealed and rejected in the same scene, in ambiguous terms that make it worthy only of hell and damnation, a violating sin revealed by necessity and pushed on an unwitting protagonist. That wasn’t necessary. It was wrong; a sadness.

I will say that it makes my enduring wish for Michael Sheen to record an audiobook of Dylan Thomas’s poetry rather intense. Because his performance was frankly mesmerizing. It was like live theater, when there are moments when you can feel the whole audience holding their breath. When it feels like the actor is holding the audience in their hands, because everyone is so focused and attuned to their voice, their expressions - to the moment. Just really, really amazing.

Einstein has a quote I love “You wouldn’t think it genius if you knew how much work went into it”. And I can’t help but wonder if he was perfectly cast for the role - charming, sweet-hearted chaos agent of a man that he is. Or if he simply is a master of his craft and just put in a tremendous amount of work. I tend to suspect a bit of both.

He just OWNED this role - gave it life and complexity.

David Tennant is a wonderful actor generally, but I’ve seen him do much better work. He seemed lost inside the role - disappearing into the costume and not quite hitting the emotional beats. Like a good singer on a bad night who’s just not quite hitting his notes the way he can. Still good, even amazing, but not the crowd stopper he can be. The one exception being his turn as Crowley as an angel at the beginning. That was just lovely.

Though if you were going to get lost inside a costume- WHAT a costume. Most of what I love about Crowley is his style. His ‘40s suits are sharp enough to cut.

So - nothing really to complain about - but I really hope they don’t leave it here, as it’s quite depressing if left as is.