Home Away from Hom
Season 2
Episode 1
Editor’s Rating
3 stars
***
Everyone’s favorite space-alien private investigator is back with another case that takes him into the darkest corners of Los Angeles.
Photo: Apple TV
“The tides of television turn fast in Los Angeles. For now, it’s as good a place as any to say farewell to the lovely John Sugar.”
I wrote that two years ago when this little Apple TV neo-noir series about a space-alien P.I. ended its initial eight-episode run. Chances of a second season seemed slim on account of the broader mixed reception to the series’ late-season twist: the old-school-noir-obsessed John Sugar is actually an alien sent to Earth with a bunch of other aliens to blend into human society, observe, and report back to the homeworld. But once the initial aversion to the twist died down, it seems the powers that be over at Apple recognized that some shows need a whole-ass first season under their belt before they come into their own.
Revealing Sugar’s true nature most of the way through the first season was a miscalculation of what might hook an audience into its sci-fi-noir premise, more alienating (no pun intended) than inviting to be sure. But now that the “twist” is the actual premise and Colin Farrell’s undeniable turn as the title character is bolstered by his full interior context, we’re teed up for another, more successful round with the tall, turquoise, and handsome alien detective of L.A., 2026 A.D.
When we last saw John Sugar, his entire alien cohort had jumped the good ship Earth to escape the clutches of a shadowy, powerful organization, with Sugar opting to hang back and track down fellow alien Henry Thorpe, guardian of serial killers and the only person who knows what happened to Sugar’s long-lost sister Djen. Our season two premiere puts a cap on the Thorpe thread real quick, killing him off in the cold open. It’s a rather obvious and mildly annoying contrivance to reset the game board here, but not necessarily to put the mystery of Sugar’s missing sister DJen to bed for good. More on that later.
As for today, “there’s always California.” A voiceover letter from Ruby (Kirby Howell-Baptiste), Sugar’s handler and fellow-alien confidant, reminds us that our hero is returning to Los Angeles much lonelier than he was before — all his friends from the first season are gone — human, alien, and canine alike. “This place, for better or worse, takes hold of you,” her letter states. “You’ll have to find a way to enjoy it on your own.” An introductory montage shows Sugar returning to his semi-permanent residence at the Hotel Del Corazon, re-adorning his P.I. uniform (dark suit and tie) and pulling his Nassau Bleu ‘66 Chevrolet Corvette Sting Ray out of the garage, equipped with a renewed subscription to American Cinematographer courtesy of Ruby.
“I was so sure I would uncover the answers to my loss, but all I’ve done is lose more,” Sugar says in voiceover. “My mission, my friends, my home. And so now I’m alone.” Sugar’s voice-over is a core element of the series, sort of encapsulating its strengths and weaknesses, and grounding John Sugar’s human experience in the genre trappings of L.A. noir. But it’s also used a little too freely to tell, not show, making things a little too easy for the most shameless second-screen viewers out there. It helps that Farrell’s voice, outside of when he’s grumbling and gravel-gargling his way through The Penguin (*complimentary), is undeniable ASMR. Whether he’s telling you what you’ve already been shown in voice-over or whispering to a group of dogs at the dark park not to tell anyone as he “breaks the rules” and performs some telekinesis with a tennis ball in front of them.
Say, was telekinesis ever part of the equation in season one? Not sure that’s necessary (and maybe a bit generic) to drop a new “alien superpower” on this thing in its sophomore season, but hey, could end up being one of those second-season additions to what eventually becomes the show’s core formula. In any case, Sugar gets a call from an old friend with a tip on another Los Angeles family in need.
Enter the brothers Moon, a troubled pair of Korean immigrant boxers who’ve carved out a life for themselves in the City of Angels, far away from the Beverly Hills mansions and Hollywood royalty of last season. Ji, the more troubled of the two, has gone missing, leaving the rising-star boxer Danny with nothing but a couple of cryptic, rather distressing voicemails that only seem to indicate Ji is high, scared, and on the run from someone he fears. Danny seems cagey upon his first conversation with Sugar, but no less determined to find his brother, reaffirming what’s likely a long-held pattern of covering for his brother while a good opportunity slips through his fingers.
Sugar is fully aware of how on the nose this is, taking a missing sibling case just as the trail of his own has gone cold. All the more reason for this eternally wide-eyed extra-terrestrial empath to take it. At the end of last season, I mentioned how we were well queued up for a Fugitive-like season of John Sugar hunting down Henry Thorpe while running from the shadowy government organization that’s discovered their presence on Earth, doing good deeds in small towns along the way. As averse as I am to “this should just be a different show” type critiques, one can’t help but feel they’ve taken the safer route here in killing off Thorpe at the top and centering the new A-plot on another missing Angelino. Still, keeping the action local to John Sugar’s home away from home solidifies this as an “L.A. series,” more firm ground from which to make the case for future seasons.
“While the rest of L.A. is climbing into bed, Koreatown’s just getting going,” Sugar swoons in voiceover from behind the wheel of the Sting Ray, checking Ji’s “usual haunts” for any word on his whereabouts. Queue our first montage of black-and-white movie clips (this time from The Hustler) that tip us off to the cinematic kernels from which Sugar learned to charm a civilian. No better rizz master for a handsome white guy to emulate than Paul Newman, am I right? (And good on Sugar, because I know I would have taken my cue from Tom Cruise in The Color of Money just so I could dance around the pool table to “Werewolves of London,” fucking up the whole thing). Proving he can hustle some pool is one thing, but it seems to be his earnest demeanor and straightforward admission that he learned it all from “the movies” that gets his opponent to give him the name of someone close to Ji. The love language of the city is spoken across cultural and economic divides.
For his trouble (and for leaving his car unattended outside), Sugar is hustled out of 300 bucks courtesy of incoming cast regular Val (Sasha Calle), who immediately presents as a potential new sidekick and our man’s first attempt at rebuilding a community for himself. Back at the hotel, he tries to send a communication to his alien friends and has dinner alone, Farrell’s silently, charismatically sad aura driving the point home. Clients and informants, no matter how much you care about them, aren’t a viable substitute for friends. While dining alone at the hotel restaurant, Sugar makes some serious eye contact with a real Ava Gardner type (Laura Donnelly) at another table, the other attendees of her business dinner blissfully unaware that she and Sugar are speaking the same vibratory language in white-hot silence.
The next day, Sugar finds his first big piece in the Ji Moon puzzle at St. Anthony’s hospital, where Ji’s friend (not girlfriend, as she adamantly asserts), Hannah McDaniels (Nona Parker Johnson), tells Sugar about the hospital drug heist she helped Ji carry out. Props to the props department or whoever came up with that thermos with the “Girl Boss” sticker on it as a receptacle for the stolen drugs. A slightly lizard-brainy detail that blends the 20th-century genre trappings with mundane 21st-century markers. “He probably just kept the drugs for himself and is off somewhere having fun,” Hannah argues. “He’s a wild man.” A lot of hay-making about Ji’s incompetence and general unpredictability suggests he’s too much of a fuck-up to get involved with anything too sinister. But if one were a private investigator who’s seen a lot of movies like Sugar, they’d be able to see this character defect as a red herring designed to throw one’s scent off the more sinister forces at play.
With a classic troubled-boxer case remixed for a modern Los Angeles, all teed up for the rest of the season, John Sugar ends the episode by revealing his B-plot case: Senator Pavich. From a deftly procured mid-century property in the Hollywood hills (and straight out of a Michael Mann movie), Sugar is keeping tabs on the man whose son turned out to be the serial killer at the center of his last case. “My people were betrayed,” Sugar says in voice-over. “Hunted and forced to leave the planet. Why?” How did a group of powerful people, Senator Pavich among them, find out about Sugar and his people? A conspiracy to be uncovered, a brother to be found. Only time and John Sugar will tell if the two trails converge.
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