Just when it seemed Ryan Murphy’s unhinged legal dramedy couldn’t possibly get any more outrageous, All’s Fair returns with a vengeance… and an entire new wardrobe of designer gowns, extravagant headwear, and bitchy dialogue. Following a wildly entertaining debut season that established Kim Kardashian, Naomi Watts, Niecy Nash-Betts, Glenn Close, and Sarah Paulson as a delightfully dysfunctional unit, the sophomore outing wastes no time reminding us why these women are so compelling. From a lavish Scorpio-themed ball and a terrifying private plane emergency to Thanksgiving festivities that take a potentially deadly turn, All’s Fair remains a glorious celebration of female friendship and fabulously over-the-top pettiness. Season 2 seems to have found an even stronger sense of purpose, allowing its eccentric characters to evolve in unexpected directions without sacrificing an ounce of its signature camp.
When we last left our favorite high-powered divorce attorneys, Carrington (Paulson) had launched an all-out assault against the women of Grant, Ronson & Greene. With a potential partnership hanging in the balance, the psychotic lawyer was determined to destroy her competition by any means necessary, culminating in Dina (Close) being framed for the murder of Emerald’s rapist. Naturally, this is All’s Fair, so the seemingly crippling cliffhanger is resolved immediately. Dina has an airtight alibi, her freedom has been restored, and she’s even willing to forgive Carrington for her transgressions. Carrington, of course, has absolutely no intention of returning the favor. Their exchanges are among the funniest moments, including the trailer’s iconic declaration that Carrington would happily unplug Dina’s life support to charge her phone. Paulson’s commitment to the character’s cartoonishly evil bit remains nothing short of spectacular. One bitch slap later, and the season proper gets off to a roaring start.
The beauty of All’s Fair has always been its willingness to embrace the ridiculous, and Season 2 doubles down on the spectacle. An elaborate Scorpio Ball serves as the perfect excuse to dress women in bold fashions that would make Carrie Bradshaw blush. Allura (Kardashian) arrives draped in an Elizabeth Taylor cape, and a messy confrontation sends multiple women tumbling into a fountain. The evening even features an enormous scorpion carved from ice, because subtlety remains strictly forbidden in the Murphyverse. This decadent affair perfectly captures the show’s identity, entirely unafraid of its wish fulfillment preposterousness.
While the twists and bitchy dialogue remain the primary attractions, a renewed attention to character development acts as Season 2’s most welcome improvement. Allura, still navigating the fallout of her divorce from Chase (Matthew Noszka), finds herself confronting a threat to her personal safety. What initially appears to be a minor distraction gradually develops into a dangerous reality, particularly once handsome security specialist Raul (Cauã Reymond) enters the picture. Their immediate sparks introduces flickers of an enticing new romantic possibility, although the prospect of someone actively trying to kill Allura certainly complicates their personal relationship.
Meanwhile, Dina’s storyline takes an unexpected detour as she explores a relationship with Brody (Noah Fearnley), a much younger man whose culinary aspirations act as a sweet opposite to Dina’s intimidating professional aura. Close gracefully brings vulnerability to the character, especially as Dina grapples with finding happiness again. With a newfound purpose, Dina emerges as a clear standout amongst the ensemble. As for Emerald, she functions as an emotional anchor. Nash-Betts is clearly having the time of her life embracing the character’s flamboyant fashion choices. Her bond with her trio of Scorpio sons is prime to her arc as they begin pursuing connections of their own. The series finds ways to balance Emerald’s maternal warmth with a sharp wit, making Emerald unique among her all-white counterparts. No doubt the creatives will revisit Emerald’s trauma from last season at a later date.
Carrington herself remains an obvious scene-stealer, but Paulson’s performance was already evolving beyond pure villainy once we learned more of Carr’s backstory. Her developing friendship with Liberty (Watts) provides a refreshing shift to their dynamic. Liberty herself gets more to do as well in this opening stretch of episodes. Her confidence flounders as she embraces her newfound identity as a self-described “power lesbian.” A disastrous private plane flight brings all five women together in a moment of genuine connection. Their Uno game in the face of death leads to a hilariously inappropriate confession from Carrington about one of her greatest regrets: never having tried scissoring. These kinds of lines could only work in a show this committed to its own absurdity.
The procedural angle also remains an unpredictable blast, with a rotating roster of guest stars to keep up the juicy fun in a very Nip/Tuck kind of way. Each case acts as a reset, from Denise Richards navigating a multimillion-dollar divorce complicated by a bitter custody battle over a dog to Margo Martindale as a celebrated cookbook author whose husband is more interested in canned cranberries than her culinary empire. The latter storyline, centered on a secret recipe for tuna noodle casserole, is a prime example of All’s Fair‘s irresistible sweetness. The rotating collection of colorful personalities helps keep the case-of-the-week format from becoming repetitive.
What makes this work is the easy chemistry between actresses. Kardashian continues to hold her own against the seasoned vets, while Watts, Nash-Betts, Close, and Paulson relish every opportunity to share drinks and lean into the heightened reality. Their interactions are laughable, but the affection and history beneath them lend the proceedings a surprising amount of emotional gravitas. Like the first season, All’s Fair feels spiritually connected to Murphy’s iconic Nip/Tuck, swapping plastic surgery for divorce law while keeping its wickedly entertaining core. Season 2 feels refreshingly campy and consistently hilarious. The stakes are higher, the relationships are messier, and the soapy dialogue is just as deliciously filthy as ever. Ryan Murphy’s chaotic legal drama is officially back in session—who’s ready for another saucy mediation with Grant, Ronson & Greene?
The first three episodes of All’s Fair season 2 are streaming now on Hulu and Disney+.
