Deadloch Season 2 review: One of TVs best crime-comedies does it again

Kate McCartney and Kate McLennan's outstanding crime-comedy Deadloch earned every last skerrick of high praise for its debut season. Described by Caitlin Welsh for Mashable as "the feminist Australian buddy-comedy-murder-noir you didn't know you needed" and "Broadchurch crossed with Letterkenny, but with way more lesbians," Deadloch carved out its own glorious TV niche in 2023.

In Season 2, directed by Beck Cole and Gracie Otto, polar opposite detective duo Dulcie Collins (Kate Box) and Eddie Redcliffe (Madeleine Sami), trade in Lutruwita (Tasmania) for the crocodile-populated waters of Australia's Top End, with a second season that’s just as consistently hilarious, sharply constructed, and deeply Australian as its first. With more twists and turns than a Viennetta, McCartney and McLennan's series spins overused murder-mystery tropes into something new: a breath of fresh, hot, thick, mid-summer air, if you will.

Deadloch once again proves it's one of the best crime-comedies on TV, with new overlapping cases, suspicious locals, and impeccable insults you’ll scramble to write down. Ultimately, thank fuck for this show.

What’s Deadloch Season 2 about?

Having solved the murder investigation in the titular town of Deadloch in Season 1, Eddie and Dulcie decided to head north, all the way to Garramilla (Darwin), Larrakia country. Here, in Season 2, Eddie seeks answers for the fate of her former partner, Bushy, whose death doesn’t sit right with her. 

However, there’s quite literally something in the water in the small Northern Territory town of Barra Creek — no really, it's a dead crocodile with a body part in its mouth. Whose is it? Which locally famous and/or pet croc is it? Does it have anything to do with missing backpackers who a local tour guide says "got Wolf Creeked"? Dulcie and Eddie head to the one-pub, one-caravan park town, where crocodile-based tourism is a territorial business and where Eddie just happened to grow up.

Their investigation won't be easy though, with hurdles including zero resources, sexist and showy detectives running their own dodgy investigation, as well as the diabolically dominant Darrell family (led by the scene-stealing Nikki Britton as Amber Darrell) and their croc tour rivals, Land of Crocs, led by a Hemsworth in extremely small shorts as schmucky celebrity wildlife presenter Jason Wade.

Working out of a storage space filled with snakeskins, Eddie and Dulcie will also need help from new faces including deadpan local journalist Leo Lee (a hilariously understated Jean Tong) who is "dangerously bored in my job," and old friends including Deadloch gem Abby Matsuda (the ever-delightful Nina Oyama), who thankfully has made it to the Top End's forensics team.

Madeleine Sami and Kate Box serve up comedy excellence, leading an impeccable cast

Supercharging Deadloch with their signature sharp comedy writing, McCartney and McLennan once again contrast Redcliffe and Box as sublime buddy cops. 

With the fish-out-of-water factor flipped this season, Dulcie sweats through her new environment — through brash conversations, unbridled sexism, Eddie's unconventional police work, and heat that’s "thicker than Clag." While Eddie was the sore thumb sticking out in Deadloch, Dulcie’s the odd one out this time, supported by her sanguine wife Cath (a delightfully funny Alicia Gardiner), who is frankly bored out of her brain in Barra Creek.

As the core dynamic of the show, Box's level-headed agitation once again clashes with Sami's audacious candor, and it's TV gold. Eddie wrestles with her return to her hometown "full of shitcunts," facing old nemeses and a profanity-charged family reunion. Sami's comedic excellence remains top tier, bringing depth and heart to Eddie beneath her abrasive personality, whether she's getting mad at someone for not knowing a Neil Diamond song, seeing blood over croc poachers, or dropping clangers like "he's not my boss and neither are you so stiff clitties."

Newcomers to Deadloch this season are also a welcome bunch, from the ever-talented Shari Stebbins as no-nonsense ranger Miki Evans to Hemsworth perfectly cast as Jason Wade, a Steve Irwin-meets-Bear Grylls-channelling showman who, along with his "Boys," made me want to jump into a croc-filled river.

Talijah Blackman-Corowa is a deadpan delight as Gen Z-staring shop attendant Alira; Ling Cooper-Tang and Ursula Yovich don't miss a beat as bar owners Lynn and Mary; and Genevieve Morris and Steve Bisley seem to have a great ol' time as local cop Pat and cranky local Frank, respectively. Plus, musician Kira Piru makes a two-second appearance which had me in stitches.

Deadloch remains extremely, specifically, gloriously Australian

No doubt about it, Deadloch remains a deeply Australian show — from killer king python lollies only available in bulk to the country's undying love for Black Lace's 1984 hit "Agadoo," place names like Dickie's Knob and the incessant small talk about how bloody hot it is ("I could steam a dumpling in my cooch," Eddie (obviously) says). This level of specificity in the show's comedy hopefully doesn't feel alienating as much as intriguing to viewers outside the country, but it might help to have an Australian around to explain the Blue Heelers references.

However, it's not just McCartney and McLennan's superb writing and the cast's comedic excellence that makes Deadloch so wonderfully Australian. Stunning landscape shots from director of photography Rob Marsh and cinematographers Katie Milwright and Simon Ozlins showcase the extreme beauty of Larrakia country, across red earth and eucalyptus trees. In addition, the season's core pub, the Barra Creek Tavern, is a masterpiece of production design from Helen O'Loan, right down to the coaster.

Having Deadloch back on our screens makes me want to air punch through the thickest Top End air. If you're not watching this show, as Eddie would say, "you're up shit creek without a snorkel."

Deadloch is streaming on Prime Video March 20.