The Four Seasons — Season 2

Some shows you remember for their twists, their cliffhangers, their big swings. The Four Seasons Season 2 is not that show — and honestly, that’s its quiet superpower.

Tina Fey, Lang Fisher, and Tracey Wigfield pick up cleanly from where Season 1 left things hanging, and within twenty minutes the show is doing what it does best: three married couples, one quarterly getaway, and the small fractures and reconciliations that come when middle-aged people sit too long in the same hot tub. The premise is so light it could float. The dialogue does the heavy lifting. Steve Carell and Tina Fey trade barbs the way they used to in a writers’ room a lifetime ago, and Colman Domingo lends the whole thing a warmth that keeps it from ever curdling into smug.

The vacations are the real co-stars this season. Where Season 1 stayed mostly stateside, this one pushes the friend group out to Italy, and the show is generous about it — long, lingering establishing shots that look less like a half-hour comedy and more like a travel postcard you’d want to keep on your fridge. The Tuscany episode in particular is the kind of television you watch in pajamas with a glass of wine and a half-charged phone in the other hand.

That’s the trick the show keeps pulling off: it asks nothing of you and gives back exactly what it asks. No elephant in the room. No prestige-TV mystery that’s going to haunt you on Tuesday. Just eight episodes of grown-ups talking, eating, arguing politely, and reconciling before the trip is over.

I binged the whole thing over the weekend, and by Monday morning I had already started forgetting the plot. That’s the point. Some weekends, you don’t want a series that demands your attention — you want one that keeps you company. Put this one on, scroll your phone, look up at the right moment for a one-liner, and let it carry you to Sunday night.