Sterling K. Brown in 'Paradise' season 2. Disney/Anne Marie Fox Share on Facebook Share on X Google Preferred Share to Flipboard Show additional share options Share on LinkedIn Share on Pinterest Share on Reddit Share on Tumblr Share on Whats App Send an Email Print the Article Post a Comment If Hulu's post-apocalyptic drama Paradise has a secret weapon, it's This Is Us creator Dan Fogelman's skill for provoking emotion. The new second season knows just how to get a viewer in their feelings, spilling tears over characters in the pits of despair, or joy as they rediscover lost pleasures, or warmth as lonely souls find camaraderie in dark days. As the episodes wore on, however, I found other, less pleasant emotions starting to creep in as well. Frustration at the accumulation of little plot holes. Exasperation at intriguing storylines that fizzled into dead ends. While Paradise has always been more heart than head, the latest run prioritizes the former to such a degree that the entire thing feels out of whack. Related Stories TV 'Paradise' Trailer: Sterling K. Brown Journeys Above to Find His Wife in Season 2 Movies Spike Lee Praises Ryan Coogler, Delroy Lindo as He Receives Career Achievement Award at Critics Choice Celebration of Black Cinema and Television Paradise The Bottom Line Lots of heart, not enough brains. Airdate: Monday, Feb. 23 (Hulu)Cast: Sterling K. Brown, Julianne Nicholson, Sarah Shahi, Nicole Brydon Bloom, Krys Marshall, Enuka Okuma, Aliyah Mastin, Percy Daggs IV, Charlie Evans, Thomas Doherty, Shailene Woodley, Cameron BrittonCreator: Dan Fogelman For all its ambition and enormous cast, the first season of Paradise remained anchored to a single place (a city-sized bunker underneath Colorado) and organized around a single propulsive mystery (who killed James Marsden's President Cal Bradford?). Sure, it was never as profound as it seemed to want to be - more often, it was like one of its own lugubrious covers of '80s pop songs, silly fun trying to pass itself off as Classy and Serious - but it had an addictive momentum. Then the finale saw Xavier (Sterling K. Brown), our Secret Service protagonist, preparing to fly out into the outside world. The narrative possibilities on both sides of the fortress walls seemed endless. What would Xavier find out there - his wife (Enuka Okuma's Teri)? A desolate wasteland? New friends, or new foes? While he was gone, what would become of the home he was leaving behind? And with so many intriguing narrative options, how would Paradise pick a new path to go forward? I'll refrain from spoiling most of those questions, but on the last front I can tell you: It...doesn't. The seven hours (of eight) sent to critics sprawl out in every direction, scattering existing characters on disjointed journeys while adding a slew of new ones. In all, the plot in the present day covers thousands of miles, while the flashbacks - so, so many flashbacks - span dozens of years. There are some upsides to the broadened scope. It's thrilling to get our first extended glimpse of life on the outside in the Glenn Ficarra and John Requa-directed premiere, which chronicles the experience of a tour guide (Shailene Woodley's Annie) riding out the end times in Elvis' Graceland. The episode takes the time to get to know the lonely rhythm of her days before piercing the quiet with a roving band of scavengers, led by the charismatic Link (Thomas Doherty). Woodley, always a sensitive performer, plays Annie's swirling emotions beautifully, as she moves from panic to resignation to bittersweet pleasure at getting to interact with other humans for the first time in ages. Other chapters introduce a group of doomsday preppers who become a found family over years stuck in a basement and a band of orphaned children whose survival instincts have been honed at the cost of their innocence. (When an injured grown-up offers to read them a story, the shyest among them responds with a question: When the man dies, can he have his jacket?) At its most effective, Paradise's second season evokes the haunting beauty, though not the brutality, of HBO's The Last of Us. It's enough to make you want to not sweat the small stuff, like, "Would it really take three years for someone to think to raid Graceland?" Or "Wouldn't a tech genius come up with a better computer password than a four-digit code?" Or "Why does this character's before-times ID have only their picture but not their name, thus defeating the entire purpose of an ID?" Who cares about such nitpicky details when we're busy tearing up at Annie feeling alive again, or Xavier's desperation to be reunited with Teri? But as with greenhouse gases under apocalyptic clouds of ash, it's the cumulative effect that screws you. A few inconsistencies are forgivable. Too many of them will eat away at the structural integrity of a season - especially if its foundations are already shaky. One of the major trade-offs of Paradise's newly expanded scale is a loss of focus. With