You is a model exercise in elements that should be diametrically opposed but somehow function in concert together from a storytelling standpoint. The plot revolves around a man named Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley) who gets obsessively enamoured with one lady – someone who becomes his main focus to an unhealthy (and in most cases, violent) degree.
But the Netflix series based on novelist Caroline Kepnes’ novels, which is about to start its third season (with a fourth already greenlit), has always been very aware of itself, to the point that its moments of levity are almost enough to make you forget what kind of show you’re watching. Season 3 adds an interesting twist by not only putting Joe to the outwardly boring outskirts of suburbia, but also by introducing the fact that he’s now formally tied down – to someone just as deadly, if not more so, than he is.
Season 2 ended with the shocking revelation that Love Quinn, Joe’s latest obsession, played by Victoria Pedretti (The Haunting franchise), was pregnant with his child — therefore it was only natural for Joe to relocate his growing family to Madre Linda, California, complete with white picket fence.
Those who saw last season know that Love isn’t completely blameless when it comes to her own past; her body count may not be as high as Joe’s, but she’s done some pretty horrific things in the name of protecting those she cares about. The third season of You reintroduces us to this couple in quite regular circumstances; with the birth of their baby, Henry (or “Forty,” depending on who you ask), Joe and Love’s lives revolve entirely on restless nights and never-ending diaper changes. At the same time, they’re both secretly lamenting the loss of their previous dynamic, missing the days when their relationship was full of adventure and thrills.
Of course, it doesn’t take long for these two to figure out how to reignite the flame between them — and it involves a lot of violence, as is usual of You.
The most significant distinction between Joe and Love, though, is their respective methods of operation. Joe is thorough, systematic, and a planner who insists on everything being meticulously put out exactly the way he wants it. Love, on the other hand, is impetuous and spontaneous around him, and when she lashes out in a more intense display of rage, it’s uncontrolled and sloppy, forcing her to rely on her spouse to clean up afterward.
It’s no surprise, then, that this leads to a growing hatred between them, which causes them to seek treatment from an outside source — a couple’s therapist, played by Daredevil’s Ayelet Zurer with calm and discernment.
In fact, one of the season’s highlights is the new cast of supporting characters surrounding Joe and Love in Madre Linda, which includes everything from momfluencers like Sherry Conrad (a fantastically wide-ranging Shalita Grant) and her supplement-shilling husband Cary (Travis Van Winkle), to Joe’s new coworker at the local library, Marienne (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina’s Tati Gabrielle), to more mysterious next-door neighbours like the En There’s also Matthew’s son Theo (Dylan Arnold of Halloween Kills), who develops an unhealthy attachment to Love.
Furthermore, this season’s suburban setting proves to be just what You needed, and watching someone like Joe surrounded by parents discussing their children’s gluten allergy seems like an added level of exquisite pain. Although the show makes a point of mentioning the recent and currently ongoing COVID-19 outbreak in order to give the audience a sense of timeline in relation to real-life events inside the narrative, it’s a side note. (However, one episode in particular, which deals with the Quinn-Goldbergs’ approach to coping with an anti-vaxxer family in their midst, hits a little too close to home.)
The best element of the third season of You is how it portrays Joe and Love as two people trying to put on a united front to the rest of the world but also battling to trust each other at every turn.
When they’re on-screen together, Pedretti’s almost effortless ability to swing between Love’s most exposed weaknesses and quiet, barely-contained wrath reminds us why she was one of the best things to happen to this show in the first place, and she’s more than an equal match for Badgley.
Their scenes apart are less engaging, to the point where I found myself anxiously anticipating more of them — and, by extension, was almost disappointed when Joe’s attention was drawn away by another potential paramour.
Despite its many triumphs, Season 3’s worst flaw is its incessant and pointless attempts to elicit pity for its protagonist. Joe’s childhood is shown through flashbacks strewn throughout the ten episodes, revealing that his misplaced impulse to protect select women was implanted in him at a young age.
They not only succeed in disrupting the more interesting present-day plot, but they also introduce Joe’s underlying mommy issues as a revelation rather than something that could be inferred naturally. After three years, there’s no need for the show to keep trying to make us feel sorry for someone who continuously demonstrates no remorse for his victims.
You’d be better off not making excuses for Joe’s actions at this point, because it’s at its best when it doesn’t try to hide its status as a gripping, twisted thriller.