‘Yellowjackets’ Is Putting All Its Chips on the Table
Season 3 of the cannibalistic survival drama is engrossing yet at times mind-numbingly goofy. Maybe it’s time to adjust our expectations for what this series can be.
Revisiting the first two seasons of Yellowjackets, I couldn’t help but compare the series to, of all things, Mr. Robot. Yes, a cyber thriller and a cannibalistic survival drama make for odd bedfellows, but the shows have gone through similar trajectories. Both came hot out of the gate with their first seasons, earning several top-line Emmy nominations and overwhelming critical acclaim for compelling lead performances, dynamic direction, and shocking twists. Then came a second season that killed a lot of audience goodwill, relying on reveals that were either too predictable or bafflingly shortsighted.
For Mr. Robot, that uneven sophomore outing sealed its fate in the zeitgeist: Its third and fourth seasons were uniformly excellent, but the show’s ratings never recovered. (For anyone who gave up on Mr. Robot, it’s very much worth finishing.) This is the dilemma that Yellowjackets must now contend with. When consumers are inundated with so many things they can watch, one underwhelming season could be enough for some folks to jump ship.
My biggest issue with Yellowjackets was the Season 2 finale, particularly that the series killed off Natalie in the present day while at the same time revealing that she was appointed the group’s new Antler Queen in the wilderness timeline. When it comes to everything in the woods, I have no notes, and making Natalie the Antler Queen is an intriguing development. But the show’s adult timeline is all over the place, and the tension of what Natalie does in a leadership role in the past is undercut by the character’s death in the present. And Natalie’s death felt so haphazard that you can’t help but wonder about the five-year plan that Yellowjackets cocreators Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson have supposedly mapped out—and think that maybe they’re flying by the seat of their pants. (See also: a mysterious bonus episode that hasn’t seen the light of day, even though it was originally supposed to air sometime between Seasons 2 and 3.)
Now that I’ve said that, if there’s a kind of show I’m willing to cut plenty of slack for, Yellowjackets fits the bill. [Extreme Stefon voice:] This show has everything: horny teens, murderous teens, cannibalistic teens, occult-dabbling teens, Jeff. And of course, the central mystery remains tantalizing: What did happen to these girls in the woods, and is something supernatural still haunting them as adults? (Or are their issues simply, in the immortal words of Jamie Lee Curtis, about trauma?) All these factors had me cautiously optimistic that, despite some rocky moments, Yellowjackets could right the ship in Season 3.
The third season opens with a time jump in the wilderness: Having survived the winter and their cabin burning down, the girls (and Travis) have a much easier time of it during the summer months. They’ve built proper shelters for themselves, are successfully hunting game, and have collected ducks and rabbits as (adorable) livestock. All things considered, the teens are living in a society, acting in a civilized way. As for Coach Ben, he’s stayed alive on his own, but the girls believe he’s responsible for the cabin burning down, so it’s in his best interest to keep away from them. (Did he really burn the cabin down, or is someone from the group the guilty party?) Meanwhile, the adult Yellowjackets are trying to return to a sense of normalcy after Natalie’s death, but Shauna receives an unexpected visit from Lottie, who’s taken a liking to her daughter, Callie, and vice versa. Then there’s Taissa and Van, who come to believe that “the Wilderness” is calling out to them—and that it wants blood. Misty is still Misty, which is to say: an unhinged scene-stealer getting involved in everyone’s business.
Yellowjackets is a show with twists and turns baked into its DNA, so I can understand if some fans don’t want to read anything about what happens next. If that’s you, avert your eyes; for everyone else, I’m happy (?) to report that the four episodes provided to critics are seriously cuckoo bananas. A ton of bold choices are made—some engrossing, others mind-numbingly goofy. There’s an extended hallucinatory sequence featuring a talking alpaca. Jeff volunteers at a senior center and wins over the residents with his bingo puns. Teenage Lottie tries convincing multiple characters to ingest shroom tea so that they can “connect” with the Wilderness. Taissa and Van do a dine and dash. The teens conduct a jury trial. The body count continues to climb. A character says, “Oh, what the fuck? Come on, man!” during one particularly bonkers moment, and, on my life, I almost said the same thing out loud.
It seems like Yellowjackets is putting all its chips on the table this season, and perhaps the show didn’t have any other choice. In its first two seasons, Yellowjackets kept things fairly open-ended when it came to the show’s central mystery: Was some kind of supernatural entity—referred to as “the Wilderness” and “It” interchangeably, and worshipped by characters like Lottie—following the teens, or was it all psychological? Either way, the supernatural explanation gives the teens some rationale for their ritualistic practices and cannibalism; history is littered with people committing unspeakable acts in the name of god(s). This season, however, Yellowjackets is no longer beating around the bush. The series has tipped the scales in favor of the theory that It is real, with scenes in both timelines implying that an unseen force has latched on to the characters—one that rewards fealty in the form of sacrifices.
It’s legitimately creepy stuff, but there’s plenty of risk in the show’s decision to go in this direction. For starters, a full-on embrace of the supernatural may be off-putting for the subset of viewers who went into the series more interested in how a close-knit group of teenagers descended into madness when stranded in the wilderness for 19 months, no outside forces required. A version of Yellowjackets where the characters resort to cannibalism simply as a matter of survival—and the cultlike behavior is purely psychological—could have been compelling television in its own right. Conversely, making the supernatural explicit instead of implicit results in a very different experience with a low floor and a high ceiling. (I can’t wait to see how the Yellowjackets fandom reacts to the talking alpaca.) There’s also a higher degree of difficulty for mystery box shows in general; sometimes, the questions they invite are more compelling than the answers (or lack thereof) that arrive down the road. For now, I’m on board with everything surrounding It at the start of Season 3, but Yellowjackets is on a knife’s edge.
In any case, I think we need to adjust our expectations for what this series can be. After that absorbing first season, Yellowjackets seemed like prestige television’s next big thing: a tantalizing combination of Lost and Twin Peaks. Those influences are still very much felt in the show, but Yellowjackets has evolved into something sillier and pulpier: less Twin Peaks Season 1, more Twin Peaks Season 2. If you’re willing to meet the series on those terms, Yellowjackets remains a fun ride, but I wouldn’t blame anyone who chooses to cut bait. Personally, I don’t mind being lost in the woods with these characters a little longer.
