It has been almost three years since Deadloch‘s first season, but our feisty Australian lesbians are back and just as hilarious as I remembered.
Deadloch‘s first season introduced us to serious and dedicated lesbian Australian cop Dulce Collins (Kate Box) and the chaotic clusterfuck of a partner foisted upon her during a murder investigation, Eddie Redcliffe (Madeleine Sami). Eddie was reassigned to the Tasmanian town from up north after her partner (cop partner, not romantic partner) died, and she spends the first half of the season itching to get home. Eventually, she starts listening to Dulce’s concerns that they have a serial killer in their tiny town with a proportionally huge lesbian population and they work together to solve it, forming a friendship along the way.
Season 1 ended with Dulce and her wife Cath (Alicia Gardiner) going with Eddie up north to Barra Creek with a promise to figure out what really happened to Eddie’s last partner and that’s exactly where we pick up in Season 2. While at first it seems like their investigation into Eddie’s ex-partner’s death is a dead-end, it turns out Barra Creek is Eddie’s hometown, so there are plenty of other shenanigans the new friends get sucked into, starting with a severed arm that turns up in a crocodile’s mouth and a pair of missing backpackers. Where last season Eddie was freezing down south, this season Dulce struggles with the tropical climate of the Darwin area of the Northern Territory. (Also, I apologize to any Australian readers if I’m mangling any of the descriptions of anything Australian; most of what I know about Australia I very loosely learned from shows like this and Wentworth.) And just like we learned a lot about Dulce’s life last season, now our focus is on Eddie and where she came from and what made her who she is now.
This season has a lot of what I loved about the first season: wild shenanigans, overlapping yelling nonsense, a mystery to solve, Eddie being ridiculous and unhinged while Dulce tries to keep her on task, so many queer people as the focus and as the only truly useful people while the men are mostly bumbling and/or bigoted.
In fact, some of the characters presumed straight last season (or at least, hadn’t canonically said anything to imply otherwise) were much less so this season, including but not limited to Abby “Big Eyes” Matsuda (Nina Oyama), who joins her “ma’ams” up north, and even Eddie herself, which I’ll talk about in a minute.
Plus, more queer characters were added, including a woman from Eddie’s past Miki Evan (Shari Sebbens), at least two more lesbians I can’t really explain to you right now without spoiling more than I want to in this review, and a non-binary journalist (well, journo, because Australia) named Leo (Jean Tong) who helps Dulce and Eddie with the investigation, much to Abby’s initial chagrin.
Speaking of Leo, this season was definitely more gender expansive than the last. Not only was Leo non-binary, a fact no one had an issue with, but Eddie eventually starts using she/they pronouns (like Madeleine Sami does IRL), which comes up hilariously mid-argument with Dulce, who also hilariously takes it in stride. For the rest of the episodes after that moment, everyone uses both she and they pronouns for Eddie, and I honestly am not sure I’ve ever seen that successfully done on a TV show. I have seen it done in books, but I can’t think of a time I personally have seen it executed so perfectly on TV, and as a she/they myself — who does not have a preference between the two EXCEPT that I don’t mean “pick one and go with it,” I mean “switch it up please” — this small detail of the show genuinely meant so much to me. Of course, because this is Deadloch, it was done with humor, but in a way that feels so authentic and true to the characters, and it brought me so much joy. Plus, on top of expanding their gender expression, Eddie is also starting to wonder if she’s also attracted to women and asks Dulce some hilarious questions about being queer over the course of that self-discovery journey.
I also love that even though, from season one to two, the location went from a veritable lesbian paradise to the most testosterone-filled croc fest you can imagine, the queers still managed to find each other and get the job done, even though it took a lot of cross-talk and yelling at idiots to get there.
One thing that also elevated this season from the first is that on top of all the “dickbum” jokes and the word “cunt” being expertly slung around, season two also has a lot more grounded, serious moments for our main characters. Kate Box and Madeleine Sami truly acted their asses off, shedding the comedic caricature versions of their characters when necessary to dig deep into the humanity of them for some heavier scenes than we’re used to seeing from them. It was a really nice touch, and I loved the way it was done. I also thought they did a great job continuing to address racism in Australia toward Aboriginal people, as they did in the first season, and also leaning into more explicitly addressing the corruption in the police force. Even Dulce and Eddie question whether their “fix it from the inside”/”try to be one of the good ones” philosophy is viable anymore.
As deeply unserious Deadloch can be, it also tackles serious topics with a sharpness and cleverness that balances out really well. As outlandish as some of the plot points or characters can be, it feels very reflective of real life to me; sometimes you will experience the funniest thing and the most heartbreaking thing all in the same day. Life is messy and funny and devastating and hard and fun and awful and wonderful, all at once, all the time, and so is Deadloch. Plus, like OUR lives at least, it’s unapologetically queer, everywhere you look. Because we are everywhere, from remote islands to croc country, and everywhere in between.
I think creators Kate McCartney and Kate McLennan have something really special here in this funny, charming, chaotic show where queer people get to be heroes and women get to be messy and complicated and make mistakes while still being lovable and root-for-able. It sounds a bit like the Kates treated this season like it was Deadloch‘s last and while narratively it was, indeed, a satisfying ending, I am clinging to them saying “never say never” and hoping for more of Dulce and Eddie. Until then, I’ll be rewatching these two gloriously gay, deeply hilarious, and extremely heartfelt seasons and looking forward to seeing what the Kates do next.
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