It’s been years since it first aired, but honestly, Season 2 of The Handmaid's Tale remains some of the most stressful television ever produced. If you’ve seen it, you know the feeling. That tight knot in your stomach when June Osborne stares into the camera, her face a mask of simmering rage and exhaustion. It’s heavy.
When the first season ended, we were basically at the end of Margaret Atwood’s original 1985 novel. The show was entering uncharted territory. Bruce Miller and his team of writers had to figure out what happens after the van doors close on June. Does she find freedom? Does she die? Season 2 answered that by doubling down on the claustrophobia of Gilead, expanding the world to the radioactive Colonies, and testing the absolute limits of what an audience can endure.
The Expansion of Gilead’s Nightmare
The premiere didn't waste any time. It’s hard to forget that opening scene at Fenway Park. Seeing a place associated with American pastimes turned into a mass execution site was a visceral choice. It set the tone for a season that was less about the "how" of Gilead and more about the "now what?" of survival.
We finally got a look at the Colonies. For months, they were just this bogeyman mentioned in hushed tones. Then, suddenly, we’re there with Emily (played brilliantly by Alexis Bledel). The color palette shifts to this sickly, washed-out grey and green. It isn't just a prison; it’s a death sentence where women literally peel apart while digging in the dirt. It’s bleak. Like, really bleak. But it served a purpose. It showed that the hierarchy of Gilead has a basement, and that basement is where "unwomen" go to be forgotten.
The show also leaned heavily into the backstory of the Waterfords. We saw how Serena Joy, once a vocal activist for the very world she now feels trapped in, helped build her own cage. It’s a fascinating, infuriating character arc. Yvonne Strahovski plays Serena with such a mix of vulnerability and pure malice that you find yourself almost feeling bad for her, right before she does something absolutely irredeemable.
The Complicated Motherhood of June Osborne
Motherhood is the beating heart of this season. It’s not just about June trying to get back to Hannah anymore; she’s pregnant with Nichole. The stakes are physical now. Her body is a vessel for the state, and the season tracks her desperate attempts to reclaim ownership of that body.
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Remember the episode "Holly"? June is alone, in the snow, in an abandoned mansion, giving birth by herself. It’s a grueling hour of television. Elisabeth Moss has this way of acting with just her eyes that makes you feel every contraction, every ounce of fear, and every spark of maternal instinct. It was a turning point. It shifted June from a victim of the system to a woman who realized she might have to become a monster to beat the monsters.
Why Season 2 of The Handmaid's Tale Felt Different
Some critics at the time felt the show was leaning into "misery porn." They weren't entirely wrong. There were moments—like the forced wedding of the child bride Eden—that were genuinely difficult to watch. But looking back, that brutality was the point. The show was trying to illustrate how a totalitarian regime maintains control: through the constant, low-grade fever of terror.
- The visual language: Reed Morano’s influence from the first season stuck around. The heavy use of close-ups makes everything feel intimate and intrusive.
- The soundscape: The use of modern music—like Annie Lennox or Kate Bush—creates this jarring reminder that this world isn't some ancient history. It’s a distorted version of our present.
- The pacing: It’s slow. Deliberately so. It mimics the feeling of waiting for a blow to land.
The introduction of the Commander Lawrence character (Bradley Whitford) added a layer of intellectual complexity that the show desperately needed. He’s the architect of the economy, yet he seems bored by the religious zealotry of his peers. He’s a wild card. His presence suggested that Gilead isn't a monolith; it’s a house of cards held together by men with very different agendas.
The Escape That Wasn't
The finale of the season is still one of the most debated moments in the series. June has the chance to leave. She’s at the van. She has the baby. Emily is there. And then... she hands the baby over and stays.
I remember screaming at the TV. Most people did. It felt like a betrayal of the audience’s hope. But narratively, it made sense for the person June had become. She couldn't leave Hannah behind. Leaving would have been the "smart" move, but June isn't acting on logic anymore; she’s acting on a scorched-earth policy of rescue and revenge.
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Real-World Echoes and Cultural Impact
It's impossible to talk about this season without acknowledging the political climate of 2018. The imagery of the Handmaids—the red cloaks and white wings—became a real-life symbol for protesters globally. From the steps of the U.S. Capitol to demonstrations in Ireland and Argentina, the costume represented a silent, powerful refusal to be silenced.
The writers were clearly tapping into anxieties about bodily autonomy and the fragility of democratic norms. While the show is based on a book from the 80s, the second season felt like it was pulling headlines from the morning news. That’s probably why it resonated so deeply, even if it was painful to sit through.
Addressing the Misconceptions
People often say the show became "too slow" in its second year. If you’re looking for a fast-paced thriller, yeah, it’s a slog. But if you view it as a psychological study of trauma, the pacing is actually its greatest strength. It forces you to sit in the discomfort. It doesn't give you the easy out of a quick resolution.
Another common complaint is that June has "plot armor." Sure, she survives things that would have gotten anyone else hung on the Wall. But the show explains this through her value as a fertile woman in a world where babies are the only currency. She’s protected by the very system that oppresses her, which is a delicious, dark irony.
How to Revisit the Season Today
If you’re planning a rewatch or diving in for the first time, keep a few things in mind. This isn't binge-watching material. It’s too heavy for that. You need time to breathe between episodes.
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Pay attention to the background details. The way the Martha’s communicate through a secret network (the "Mayday" resistance) starts to take more shape here. It’s a masterclass in world-building that doesn't rely on info-dumping.
Watch the lighting. Notice how the light changes when June is in the "real world" versus when she’s in Gilead. The flashbacks are often warmer, more saturated, representing a life that feels like a dream compared to the cold, blue reality of the present.
Analyze the power dynamics. Look at how the women in the house—June, Serena, and Rita—constantly shift their alliances. It’s a game of survival where the rules change every hour.
To truly appreciate the depth of the season, look for the following themes:
- Complicity: How do "good" people allow bad things to happen?
- Language: How does the regime use specific phrases ("Blessed be the fruit") to monitor thought?
- Resistance: Is it possible to resist without becoming like the oppressor?
Next Steps for the Viewer
To get the most out of your experience with this chapter of the story, try these steps:
- Compare the source material: Read the final chapters of Atwood's novel and the "Historical Notes" at the end. It provides a different perspective on how Gilead eventually fell, which puts June's struggle into a broader context.
- Track the cinematography: Follow the work of Ane Crabtree (costume design) and the various directors of photography. Their choices in Season 2 won several awards for a reason; the visual storytelling often says more than the dialogue.
- Listen to the "Eyes on Gilead" or similar podcasts: There are several deep-dive audio series that break down the symbolism in each episode of Season 2, which helps in catching the smaller details you might miss on a first pass.
The legacy of the second season is one of endurance. It asked the audience how much they could watch and asked the characters how much they could take. It wasn't always "fun," but it was undeniably powerful television that redefined what a book adaptation could look like when the pages ran out.