Review: Season Two of The Witcher Asserts a Newfound Focus and Depth

Storied monster hunter Geralt of Rivia (Henry Cavill) assumes the responsibility of fatherhood in season two of Netflix’s The Witcher, taking under his wing the runaway princess Ciri (Freya Allen). As he leads her through the war-torn land of the Continent, the taciturn sellsword proves to be a surprisingly sweet and thoughtful guardian. His agility as a fighter is rivaled by the swiftness with which he attempts to assuage Ciri’s anxieties about her recently conquered homeland and the magical powers that she struggles to control. To better protect Ciri, Geralt takes her to Kaer Morhen—fortress of the witchers, the all-male order of beast slayers to which he belongs—where he trains her in his deadly art.

Throughout the season, Cavill subtly portrays the attitudes and emotions of the reticent Geralt, the rigidity of his steel jaw conveying the character’s quiet confidence while his eyes betray the emotions that lie beneath. When Ciri braves a dastardly obstacle course without Geralt’s go-ahead, navigating massive swinging pendulums and spinning spikes, Geralt looks on, his inscrutable expression alternatingly suggesting anger, worry, and pride.

In contrast to season one’s confusing multi-timeline structure and shallow world-building, the new season more lucidly explores the Continent and the forces motivating its denizens. Geralt and Ciri’s sojourn in Kaer Morhen gradually elucidates the history and dynamics of the witchers, and their adventurous outings evoke the swashbuckling thrills and mysteries of Geralt’s quests in Andrzej Sapkowski’s original books and their video game adaptations. The season’s first episode, “A Grain of Truth,” touchingly ruminates on solitude and forgiveness when Geralt and Ciri spend the night at the manor of Nivellen (Kristofer Hivju), an old acquaintance of Geralt’s whose curse recalls that of the prince from Beauty and the Beast.

Meanwhile, the mage Yennefer of Vengerberg (Anya Chalotra) finds herself a fugitive from former allies, and her wandering brings her into contact with the scheming Brotherhood of Sorcerers and the fanatical Nilfgaardian Empire, among others. The show’s writers smartly deploy Yen like a reflecting pool through which the ambitions and fears of the Continent’s myriad factions are revealed. The Witcher still suffers from the tendency of many fantasy tales to casually mention myriad names of cities, characters, and phenomena to the point of bewilderment, but the proceedings feel far clearer this time around thanks to the season’s tighter focus and the steady drip of context afforded by Yen’s journey.

Combat is relatively sparse in the first six episodes, and while fight sequences too liberally deploy slow motion, which douses what sparks the action generates, they feature fluid, sometimes balletic choreography. Brawls are most gripping when they demonstrate Geralt’s knowledge of monsters and test his puzzle-solving capabilities, as when he and witcher patriarch Vesemir (Kim Bodnia) do battle with a tree-like beast called a “leshy.” The chaotic melee feels as though it was pulled from The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, as Geralt and Vesemir bash their heads against the beast’s tough hide until they figure out how to manipulate its weaknesses, creatively leveraging heavy chained hooks and a healthy supply of fire.

In episode six, “Dear Friend,” Geralt stalks a monster of unknown origin and uses Ciri as bait. Rather than abusive, the act feels like a testament to their mutual trust, Ciri’s growing confidence, and Geralt’s unshakeable pride in his ward. Geralt, his face splattered in blood, celebrates Ciri’s bravery, all but overjoyed by the messy work of fatherhood. Despite the eagerness with which many in Geralt’s orbit fixate on destiny, The Witcher recognizes that the beauty of his bond with Ciri lies not in it being fated, but in it being willfully, lovingly formed.