Minx season 2 review: The raunchy workplace comedy digs deeper

“Minx is back and better than ever,” Doug Renetti (Jake Johnson) proudly declares about the show’s titular erotic magazine. The greasy, acquisitive publisher reunites with his moralistic counterpart, founder Joyce Prigger (Ophelia Lovibond), after their spat in the season one finale. And together, they catapult Minx to great heights in season two, which premieres July 21 on Starz. But Doug’s dialogue rings true for Ellen Rapoport’s raunchy comedy itself. The show returns with confidence; its refreshingly unique and sexy charm is intact—plus lots of dicks and nudity, too, so don’t worry—while the characters get emotionally richer.

Second seasons are critical for any TV show. It’s a make-or-break moment to determine if they can sustain and build on their foundation. Minx launched last year as an evocative workplace comedy. The office shenanigans emerged out of Joyce and Bottom Dollar’s employees trying to make a successful business by molding her feminist magazine for a broader, hornier readership. The show is more robust this time around, with stories that feel keenly relevant today despite its flashy ’70s setting. So, yes, it’s a strong sophomore run, proving that HBO Max was stupid to cancel it and Starz was smart to keep it going.

Season two finds Johnson and Lovibond nailing, once again, their mentor-mentee relationship, only now it’s complicated by the addition of an eclectic new investor. The show puts an additional and welcome focus on some of its delightful supporting cast, too, which leads to a breakout performance from Lennon Parham (truly, the best thing Minx has done is to give Parham the room to outshine everyone around her). And it also continues tapping into publishing-industry obstacles and shifting gender dynamics.

In fact, one of the few downers is that there are only eight half-hour episodes. It’s rare to watch a season nowadays and think, “This could’ve been longer, damnit.” Yet that’s the response Minx elicits. The show’s pacing is slightly scattered as it attempts to fit too many fun ideas into a short timeframe. The outings fly by as Joyce and Doug individually suffer an identity crisis as Minx becomes a hot property in the media world. There just isn’t enough time to sit with their internal and external struggles, or with their ballooning profits, because of the speed at which the plot moves. It all comes too fast, if you will, cramming in an entire year of the pair’s highs and lows.

Minx rapidly garners public attention as a liberating magazine for women to the extent that Hearst and Condé Nast are actively courting Joyce to publish the magazine. However, thanks to Doug’s superpower of talking his way in and out of messes, he convinces her to take money from one of her icons, a wealthy widow named Constance (Elizabeth Perkins). She wades into the Minx offices like a manipulative goddess in a kimono, with moves as calculating as a fox. Perkins is a wonderful insertion into the already talented ensemble, packing the right amount of mysterious energy to shake up an established status quo.

It doesn’t matter if they have a shiny new investor and audience, though, because Joyce and Doug’s competing views persist. Minx gives them enough fodder to grapple with, like any good comedy with dueling bosses who are also surprising pals. He has grand notions of a Chippendales-like strip club and taking the brand international. Meanwhile, she gets caught up as the face of a changing landscape, leading to interactions with Gloria Steinem and Annie Leibovitz, in case you needed a reminder of the era. Not that the dazzling cinematography, production design, hairstyles, costumes, and sepia tones will let you forget about the show’s ’70s setting.

Thanks to Constance’s meddling, there’s a brief lull in Johnson’s screen time with Lovibond and Idara Victor, who plays Doug’s love interest, Tina. (Robbing us of the actor’s romantic side shouldn’t be allowed, for future reference). On the plus side, Tina finally finds her own place in the company. Similarly, Bambi (Jessica Lowe) and Richie (Oscar Montoya) suffer through a dilemma about their place in this new world, and both actors give terrific turns. But again, nothing compares to Parham’s outstanding performance as Shelly breaks sexual ground inside and outside of her marriage.

Yes, Minx is a little all over the place as it drops some heartbreaks and game-changing twists. Still, the show rises above its pitfalls to deliver a mostly enticing turn. It’s genuinely ambitious, finding dark and risqué humor in the efforts by Doug, Joyce, and their team to create something fresh. They’re dedicated to printing gloriously photographed naked men for the world to see, and nothing is going to stop them. Who can’t root for that?

The writing and acting are top-notch, delving into the flaws of the publishing industry. In the remarkable fifth episode, for example, Joyce is on a panel with fellow editors of female-oriented magazines. Except, her companions are mostly old white men who pit her against the only other woman on stage. Minx and Lovibond are at their spectacular best when Joyce goes off, so when she calls out the double standards and surface-level dedication to representation in the media world, it hits hard.

And that’s the show’s ace: Under a glossy, tantalizing exterior, Minx actually has something worthwhile to say, using its fictional, retro magazine to make a timely, universal message. It smartly elevates the workplace comedy genre with standout performances (Johnson and Parham are the MVPs) and comes off as an excellent ride. Now if only there was a bit more time before it reached its rushed climax.