We don’t need a second season of “The Last Thing He Told Me.” Adapted from a book of the same name by Laura Dave (who created the show alongside husband Josh Singer), the Apple TV series is about husband and father Owen (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), who hides his true identity from his family, before disappearing with only the most cryptic of warnings. The first season (and book) ended just fine: Having made a deal with the mob, Hannah Hall (Jennifer Garner) and stepdaughter Bailey Michaels (Angourie Rice) forged a precarious peace that didn’t need to be disturbed.
But after the first book did so well, Laura Dave released a second Hannah Hall novel in January, The First Time I Saw Him, with the Apple series coming so shortly thereafter that it serves as a companion piece. Which is to say, if you’re excited to spend more time Hannah and company (and see them go globetrotting), then these eight episodes, to be released weekly, are for you.
Certainly, season two allows Garner to shine again in her distinctive and winning mix of warm strength. She’s just as good this season, sharing more screen time with her MIA husband, who may or may not still be benefiting from the honeymoon effect of new love (are they still newlyweds if, after being happily married for one year and then having no contact for five years, they reunite?). It’s a puzzle you’ll have to watch to unwrap.
Which is a long way of saying this show is dumb. “The Last Thing He Told Me” only works if you can suspend disbelief and just go with the fact that these are both the smartest/most-talented people you’ve ever met and the stupidest.
You mean to tell me that Owen, without question, took the advice of his US Marshal handler (Augusto Aguilera) to keep his background a secret from his new wife? The guy who refused witness protection and instead made himself a new identity from scratch? Or that Hannah accepts that rationale after confirming her distrust of the same agent after one line from Owen in person? It just doesn’t add up.
The same way their love-for-the-ages story makes no sense—he trusts her so entirely that he leaves her in sole custody of his teenage daughter (who the mob maybe wants dead), but not enough to tell her the real deal?
He’s a mastermind of spycraft, strategy, and the workings of organized crime, but couldn’t foresee that he’d ever have to run and, I don’t know, record a message explaining what’s what and put it in that safe for season one?
To even approach “The Last Thing He Told Me,” you have to turn off the part of your brain that looks at the beautiful cast with their recovered memories and penchant for burner phones and says, ‘This makes no sense.’
You also have to enjoy the contrived suspense of it all—this is a show that never lets its protagonists execute a plan without staging an almost-caught moment. If someone’s breaking into an office to look at some files, it’s a safe bet that the guards will almost catch them before they find an ingenious way to escape. Ditto for breaking into a storage container, an apartment, you name it.
It’s the same thing over and over again.
And while it’s nice that Hannah and Owen are on screen more together in season two (and not just through flashbacks), I want to be clear that their pairing doesn’t result in any deep thoughts about marriage, love, or parenthood. Their relationship is as nonsensical as the rest.
Which isn’t to say there’s nothing to enjoy here. There’s a reason Jennifer Garner is famous. She’s able to make her character exude maternal care while also having a sociopath’s knack for lying and coming up with the right thing to say to get what she wants. Why can this woodworker, who grew up without her mother (as the show is so fond of reminding us), do that? Is it, as Bailey explains to Hannah’s estranged mother (Rita Wilson, also delivering a strong performance) that Hannah just keeps trying? Or is it that she used to be on “Alias” and knows some spy craft? Mysteries of life!
This season, Garner faces a known villain in the Campano family. We meet Luke Kirby’s Teddy as the not-quite-up-to-the-task heir to the family business and Judy Greer’s Quinn as the successful sister who wants nothing to do with the family’s business. Greer, in particular, crackles on screen as she embodies the hyper-competent female family member who can always be trusted to make the necessary call.
Between their performances, the show’s leaning into suspense tropes, and its refusal to get too deep into family dynamics, “The Last Thing He Told Me” can be the type of thing you enjoy while emptying the dishwasher. Look up when Greer is on screen, or Garner is wearing something fabulous to promenade through a foreign airport.
Just don’t think too hard about it. And please, don’t wish for a season three, cliffhanger notwithstanding. We certainly don’t need to spend more time or money on this silly universe, no matter how great Garner or Greer can be.
Whole season screened for review. Starts today on Apple TV.
