Twisted Metal Season 2 Review
Peacock’s Twisted Metal Season 2 (which shifts from road-trip chaos to a full-on demolition-derby tournament) is bigger, punchier, and often smarter than Season 1, giving the show a fresh lift. Sure, it’s not trying to make any big statements—but that’s exactly why the series generally works.
Twisted Metal Season 2 (2025), Photo Credit: Peacock and Sony Pictures Television
Sharper writing, fuller characters
The most immediate level-up is in the writing. Season 2 trims some of the shaggy, wandering energy from last year’s road show and instead threads character beats through the tournament structure. John Doe (Anthony Mackie) gets more shading—vulnerability, frustration, and a clearer drive. Alternatively, Quiet (Stephanie Beatriz) is given interiority that doesn’t solely hinge on snark or survival.
Around them, the ensemble is tighter and more purposeful: Calypso (played with impish menace by Anthony Carrigan) finally anchors the chaotic premise, and the show gains a proper centripetal force in the pit. Patty Guggenheim also stands out, taking over as Raven while bringing a quirky charm to the character that reads well. The season doesn’t become a character drama, but it consistently uses small, specific moments to make everyone feel more like people, less like props.
Humor that swerves—both obvious and surprising
Tonally, Twisted Metal still lives on the edge of a groan and a grin. The jokes land from two angles: big, neon-sign gags you see coming (a deliberately dumb one-liner before a nitrous blast) and smaller, weirder zingers that sneak in through character specificity. The writers seem more confident about when to punch up the absurdity and when to let an awkward beat do the work.
Crucially, the humor feels distinct from other game adaptations; rather than apologizing for its pulp roots, the show leans into a cracked-toy sensibility that plays like midnight cable—slick, silly, but with an authorial wink. When the laughs click, they give the action a buoyant rhythm and make the downtime between heats feel alive rather than filler.
Dollface is an Early MVP
Bringing in John’s long-lost sister, Dollface (Tiana Okoye), is the season’s best upgrade. She isn’t just a lore box checked; she’s an accelerant for the plot (whether it’s her connection to others or her mission in the tournament).
Dollface reframes John’s amnesia, tests his loyalties, and injects a volatile ideology into the Dolls—turning them from a cool visual into a pressure group with real narrative pull. And throughout her (somewhat underutilized) arc, Okoye plays her with the series’ brand of tonal conviction and a wounded edge. In a series that can lapse into gag-and-gore cycles, she supplies motive, memory, and a pinch of tragedy. If there’s a single “MVP” in Season 2, it’s her.
When camp stalls and chemistry wobbles
Camp is part of Twisted Metal’s DNA, but camp is a tightrope. A few bits—oversized gimmicks, elbow-nudge needle drops, cartoon-villain buttoning—thud instead of thrill. It’s the risk of making a show this proudly kooky: the tone can tilt from committed to cloying in a single gag. And while Mackie and Beatriz still spark, their written dynamic occasionally goes soft around the edges; the will-they/won’t-they heat flickers episode to episode, which makes the declarations of love land unevenly.
The show’s “easy-watch” design (12 brisk episodes with frequent set pieces) is a virtue, but it also means you’re not always compelled to slam “next episode” for the character beats alone. The structure keeps you entertained; it doesn’t always keep you hooked.
The game-y endgame: love it or leave it
Season 2’s finale swings for an unmistakable “boss fight” vibe. On paper, it tracks. The season is literally a tournament; going big is part of the promise. In practice, the climax feels slightly out of step with the series’ better instincts, which favor scrappy, character-pointed chaos over straight-line spectacle. It’s not a disaster by any means; there’s craft and intention here, and some viewers will dig the blatant homage to controller-gripping set pieces.
But others may feel the show briefly becomes the thing it’s usually able to differentiate itself from. Still, even this choice speaks to a writers’ room that knows the franchise they’re adapting and isn’t afraid to plant a flag, for better or for debate.
Score: 6.5/10
A lively, smarter second lap that benefits from sharper writing, a more grounded ensemble, and a standout new player in Dollface—even if the camp sometimes curdles and the central romance flickers.
