13 Reasons Why, season 2 review: Netflix's teenage suicide drama is uncomfortable viewing

Netflix’s fiercely controversial, fiercely popular teen thriller 13 Reasons Why returns for a second season with a solemn pre-recorded address from members of its young cast, in which they urge viewers to seek help if affected by any of the show’s heavy themes. Their appeal might seem painstakingly earnest, but its inclusion is a wise decision. Season one of the US drama told the story of a teenage girl, Hannah Baker (Katherine Langford), who kills herself following a series of betrayals and after being raped by one of her schoolmates. She leaves a series of audio cassette tapes (beguilingly archaic technology for today’s youth), each one giving a fraction of her sad story – and each one elucidating another of the “reasons” behind her tragic self-destruction.

It was painful, hard-hitting stuff, provoking a flurry of discussion, multiple think pieces and some understandable concern from suicide awareness groups, who felt that the deceptive way the story allowed Hannah to “live on” after death, coupled with Langford’s charismatic portrayal, made the character’s irreversible decision seem an appealing option for vulnerable teenagers. In the interests of balance, 13 Reasons Why was also sensitively acted and impressively head-on in its confrontation of ugly events – and season two, which focuses on the court case launched by Hannah's mother against an allegedly negligent school, is just as harrowing and just as compulsively watchable.

The pertinent question is whether teenagers should be “allowed” to watch it. Despite being a decade or so older than the purported target audience, I certainly found this season difficult viewing – and certain scenes (not gratuitous but packed with emotional trauma) would doubtless be classed as “triggering” for anyone with experience of sexual assault. As Hannah’s friends and family slowly snatch back small victories, there are some bravely exhilarating moments, including a moving courtroom scene with Courtney Crimsen (Michele Selene Ang), the schoolmate whose desire to hide her own sexuality caused her to effectively throw Hannah to the wolves back in season one. 

But a familiar claustrophobic sadness still permeates every shot, whether it be in a classroom, a poster-decorated teenage bedroom, or a toilet cubicle emblazoned with abusive graffiti. Everyone at Liberty High is still hoarding secrets – and none of them are happy secrets.

Wisely, while Hannah herself is still a recurring character, of sorts – she haunts the imagination of friend Clay Jensen (Dylan Minnette), preventing him from focusing on a new relationship with troubled Skye (Sosie Bacon) – this season is much more focused on those she left behind. It’s Hannah’s former friend Jessica (an intensely emotional performance from Alisha Boe), who emerges as one of the most important figures, and whose story (she too was a victim of assault) is one of the most affecting.

If the first season was about digging up the truth, this second instalment is about seeking something just as elusive: justice, and a sort-of catharsis. There are moments to make you hold your breath, so fierce will your desire be for Jessica to speak, and speak, and speak, and hold loathsome rapist Bryce (Justin Prentice) and his sports buddies to justice. But – with credible realism – the story also knows when to take a step back and focus not on vengeance, but on pain, survival and healing. A moment in which Jessica suffers a panic attack in a shop changing room is particularly upsetting, imbued with uncompromising authenticity. Detractors have accused the series of sensationalising serious events – but there’s clearly an attempt to speak truth here too, reflecting the real experiences of some victims.

Surprisingly, while the cassette tapes and their potent reveals are absent – there’s a plot involving polaroids instead, although it’s just one of several mysteries – there’s no resultant lack of momentum. A sense of quietly muffled rage moves the story onwards, coupled with the frustrating powerlessness experienced by many of its characters, as they attempt to break free of the rules, roles and expectations that constrain them. Clay is desperate to expose Bryce – but unsure exactly what to do about it, and still grappling with his own repressed resentment towards Hannah.

Justin (Brandon Flynn), whose actions placed in him in an especially unfavourable light last season, has something of a redemptive arc – and so too does school counsellor Kevin Porter (Derek Luke), who previously let Hannah down so badly. Kate Walsh as Hannah’s relentlessly driven mother Olivia is also a powerful presence – her grief now transformed into a terrifying hunger for vengeance – while Bryce’s cheerleader girlfriend Chloe (Anne Winters) is impressively conflicted.

The tendencies that made season one so problematic are still, inevitably, in evidence: serious issues, while effectively-portrayed, are often used to ramp up the drama, and at times there’s a seductive, glamorously melancholic (and consequently very teen-friendly) quality to all the misery on offer.

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Ultimately, though, it’s not these elements – many of which are diluted by the strong, down-to-earth performances – that would make me urge extreme caution when allowing younger viewers access the show. Nor is it the sporadically graphic content itself: the sex, drug-taking and occasional violence that helped gain the show an 18 certificate from the BBFC. Instead, it’s the relentless bleakness – and the fact that the drama, at its best, feels horrifyingly evocative of some of the worst experiences that young people can go through.

Thirteen Reasons Why isn’t created by cynical, damn-the-consequences monsters: it’s a powerful, well-acted, well-intended show about suicide, mental health issues and sexual assault. But it’s precisely because of the sad ubiquity of these problems that younger fans may find the series traumatising. We need to tell stories about these things: to not do so – or to pretend these “adult” issues never affect teenagers – would be shamefully dishonest. Mature 17-year-olds, warned in advance about the show’s content, may well find it sparks important discussions.

Anecdotally, however, we know that many younger teens, those aged 14 and 15, are also tuning (or logging) in. To me, this feels troubling. Educating children about trauma is one thing – but allowing them to completely immerse themselves in it, via a commendably disturbing and undoubtedly addictive series, is quite another.

Season 2 of 13 Reasons Why arrives on Netflix on Friday 18 May.

If you've been affected by the issues on 13 Reasons Why or want to read more about and discuss bullying, sexual assault and drug abuse, please visit 13reasonswhy.info