Private Investigator John Sugar (Colin Farrell) is an alien!

Phew, feels good to get that off my chest. Over two years ago, when Sugar debuted, it kept the secret of John’s extraterrestrial nature close to the vest for most of the season. As a result, reviewing the show back in 2024 became an exercise in trying to affirm it was great—though my 90/100 score kind of surprises in retrospect—while dancing around “but there’s this twist I’m not sure it needed.” With Sugar Season 2, the question of whether Sugar benefits from John being an alien can finally be answered.

And that answer? It’s fine he’s an alien. But if he weren’t, that would be fine too. And while a late-season development suggests future seasons might lean harder into sci-fi, his being a strange PI in a strange land for whatever reason yields plenty of good storytelling.

This time out, Sugar’s missing person is Ji (Raymond Lee, a performer I’m increasingly excited to see show up in things). The older brother of boxer-on-the-rise Danny Moon (Jin Ha), Ji’s been drifting into drugs and partying for a while. However, an out-of-breath voicemail left prior to his disappearance suggests something far more worrisome. Trying to solve Ji’s disappearance quickly runs Sugar aground of local sheriff Ray Vega (Tony Dalton) and a larger conspiracy.

More complications come in the form of Charlotte (Laura Donnelly), a woman also staying long-term in the luxury hotel Sugar now calls home, and Val (Sasha Calle), a small-time criminal who can’t stop messing with Sugar’s car. Then there’s the matter of him being likely the last of his kind left on the planet following the mass departure at the end of Season 1. Unless, of course, his still missing sister Djen is alive and well somewhere on Earth, an increasingly unlikely prospect.

Farrell, with his consistent presence and ubiquitous narration, is the keystone to Sugar Season 2. Even more than in the inaugural season, if he doesn’t nail his character, the whole thing falls apart. He is more than equal to the task. He walks an interesting tightrope, frequently projecting a sense of disappointment in human beings, seemingly without ever growing disillusioned with them. At one point, he narrates his frustration with the idea that people need to “qualify” for assistance, somehow conveying both empathy and disgust. While he often marvels at Earth and its inhabitants, it never feels silly or hopelessly naïve. Farrell makes him feel grounded and thoughtful but still capable of being delighted by a studio lot tour or a nice dog. That may not sound like much, but too often that balance eludes other performers.

The deployment of his “inner monologue” via classic film clips seems both less pointed and smarter this time. It feels closer to how memory actually works: not one-to-one associations, but a chain of related images and ideas, some only loosely connected. It’s another clever way to suggest Sugar’s evolution. As he becomes further entangled in mankind, for better and worse, his thinking becomes less deliberate. Less “accurate,” more based on whim or sensation. Sometimes it foreshadows plot developments and character truths; at others, it obscures them entirely. Now that the clips’ meanings aren’t as concrete, viewers can never really know whether one is random or a peek at something to come.

The supporting cast is thinner this time out, but still boasts some memorable turns. Dalton’s Vega is the kind of commonplace evil that much media steers away from depicting. He doesn’t chew scenery. He is neither wildly disgusting nor charismatic. Instead, he feels exactly like a guy who could be behind you at a checkout lane.

Calle’s character is thinly written and underused, but she has enough presence to make you hope she’s back and in a bigger role next season. Shea Whigham, always a delight, has a small but meaty part as a cop who dresses like the Big Lebowski but struggles with none of that character’s cognitive limitations.

Saving the best for last, Donnelly makes an immediate impression. She’s flirty with enough vagueness that it’s hard to read if she’s harmless, carnivorous, or something more dangerous. She’s a femme fatale who largely steers clear of the classic beats of that archetype. There’s no big scheme she’s trying to sell John on or sucker him into. Unless you consider dating a scheme, that is. There’s little reason to worry about her. And yet, every time she’s on-screen, Donnelly gives her that mix of friendly and something spikier and more unnerving.

As in the first season, attention must be paid to the series’ look in Sugar Season 2. While nothing is as striking as the series premiere, the show’s mix of bright blue skies over deserts and traffic lights piercing the inky blackness of less-traveled areas of LA makes for a rich tapestry. The camera is more active this time out, repeatedly framing Sugar to reflect his increased feelings of isolation and abandonment. So many shots find him alone in otherwise typically busy places: hotel bars, dog parks, airplane hangars. The more complicated the plot becomes, the more heavily the cameras reflect his perception of isolation. It suggests a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. He feels alone and somehow manages to make it true even in the busy city.

With the secret out of the bag—although still plenty of twists and turns—Sugar Season 2 is free to show the strength of its storytelling without prepping for a final shock. John Sugar is absolutely someone audiences will love to pull up a stool next to at the bar and spend the night trading movie references and waxing poetic about the human condition.

Sugar Season 2 cruise Rodeo Boulevard with the top down on AppleTV starting June 19.

Sugar Season 2 Trailer: