I’ve (attempted to) articulated before on how much I loved Netflix’s Master of None, and applauded it on its sheer realism and top-top shelf writing and direction. The whole minority and LGBT-aware aspect of it took a back seat to the fact that it was simply a dynamite show, that I could not get enough of and was sad when the first season came to an end.
It was wonderful news when the second season was confirmed, and it was happy days all over again when I found the time to binge through the first half of it, and turned into a melancholy end of a good roller-coaster ride as I methodically watched the last few episodes.
Seriously, Master of None is pretty much on my perma-list of favorite television shows. Ever. Up there with Parks & Recreation, Black Mirror, and a few other titles that are probably up there that have the unfortunate distinction of being left off because they’re not as fresh on the brain.
Season 2 of Master of None did not disappoint, and I’m hard pressed to say that I didn’t not enjoy a single episode. Even the prototypical palette-cleanser episode, I Love New York, which barely featured any of the actual cast was done in a manner that was still captivating, entertaining and generated humor in creative and believable ways.