When Nobody Wants This first arrived on Netflix last year, it felt like a small miracle for romantic comedy fans. At a time when television seems crowded with thrillers, dystopias, and superheroes, creator Erin Foster delivered something deceptively simple — a rom-com that actually believed in love, awkwardness, and faith.
The first season centered on Noah (Adam Brody), a thoughtful young rabbi, and Joanne (Kristen Bell), a lively but restless podcaster who also happens to be the textbook “shiksa.” Their relationship explored the tension between modern love and religious identity — two people from totally different worlds trying to meet in the messy middle. The show mixed sarcasm with sentimentality and managed to speak sincerely about Judaism without losing its sense of humor.
But the real surprise was how specific it felt. Television rarely gives space to faith of any kind anymore, much less Judaism. So when Nobody Wants This tried to show synagogue life, family dinners, and even rabbinical basketball games, it felt refreshingly authentic. The show wasn’t perfect — some Jewish female characters were written a little too sharply — but it had warmth, brains, and chemistry to spare.
Season Two: Same Couple, New Complications
Now, Season 2 picks up almost exactly where the first left off. Noah and Joanne are basically living together, navigating the kind of relationship gray area that drives romantic comedies. She’s still unsure about converting; he’s still trying to figure out whether he’s pushing too hard or not hard enough.
In theory, that tension should make for great television. In practice, though, much of this new season feels like watching two people replay the same conversation with slightly different outfits. The spark between Bell and Brody is still there, but the magic — that unspoken, electric back-and-forth that made Season 1 addictive — flickers instead of glows.
It doesn’t help that Noah, once written as a kind and idealistic rabbi, now comes across as smug, occasionally even manipulative. His gentle moral certainty from the first season has hardened into something colder. Joanne, meanwhile, remains charming but underwritten — the show keeps telling us what kind of person she is instead of letting us simply see it.
Supporting Cast Gets a Boost
Where the second season finds new life is in its side stories. Timothy Simons, as Noah’s awkward brother Sasha, continues to steal scenes with perfect deadpan timing. Jackie Tohn’s Esther — a character who last season flirted dangerously close to stereotype — is given a lighter, funnier arc, full of self-deprecating humor and sharper writing. And Justine Lupe as Morgan, Joanne’s podcast-partner sister, might be the season’s MVP. Her mix of charm and obliviousness gives every episode a pulse when the central romance starts to drag.
The showrunners clearly listened to feedback from the first season. Gone are some of the overbearing “Jewish mother” caricatures; the writing now feels more self-aware and less defensive about faith. There’s even a full Purim episode — messy, joyful, and filled with costumes — that proves the show still knows how to balance reverence with ridiculousness.
Humor and Heart, but a Softer Edge
Still, Nobody Wants This Season 2 often feels like a rom-com stuck in neutral. The writers introduce new showrunners (Jenni Konner and Bruce Eric Kaplan), and with them comes a noticeable tonal shift. The pacing slows, the humor leans more introspective, and the romantic tension becomes less about “Will they or won’t they?” and more about “Should they even?”
That’s not necessarily bad — in fact, some of the quieter episodes are among the most moving. One touching half-hour explores how Joanne’s parents’ divorce shaped her fear of commitment. Another uses a guest appearance from Leighton Meester (Brody’s real-life wife) to mirror Noah’s emotional blind spots. These moments show glimpses of the empathy and depth that made the first season stand out.
But too often, the show gets bogged down in analysis. Characters explain their feelings instead of just living them. Scenes that should burst with humor feel muted by therapy-speak. The result isn’t disastrous, but it is less fun.
Faith, Love, and the Weight of Expectation
If Season 1 asked whether love can bridge belief, Season 2 asks whether love can survive routine. The show’s exploration of Judaism remains both its strongest and trickiest element. Noah’s sermons and conversations about the Talmud sometimes sound like parables aimed directly at Netflix’s binge-watching audience — part philosophical musing, part sitcom setup.
And yet, that’s still what makes Nobody Wants This special. It’s one of the few mainstream shows willing to treat religion not as a punchline or a background prop but as something people actually wrestle with. Even when the execution falters, the intention feels genuine.
Final Thoughts
There’s a bittersweet irony in watching a series that once felt so fresh now struggle with the same creative dilemma it once solved: how to make love stories feel new. Nobody Wants This doesn’t collapse — it’s too well-acted, too well-made, and still occasionally brilliant — but the second season lacks the tight focus and effortless spark that made its debut such a surprise.
If you fell in love with the first season, this one is still worth the watch. You’ll laugh, you’ll roll your eyes, and you might even find yourself thinking about faith and compromise in ways few romantic comedies ever provoke. But if you’re coming in cold, don’t expect fireworks — expect a slow, slightly uneven burn.
At its best, Nobody Wants This remains a warm, talkative, often tender look at how belief and love collide. At its weakest, it’s a reminder that even in matters of faith — or Netflix renewals — sometimes the hardest thing isn’t falling in love. It’s staying there.