Netflix's Sci-Fi Cyberpunk Sleeper Hit Becomes a True Masterpiece in Stellar New Season
An extraordinary ensemble and dazzling animation give the Netflix sequel a warmer, more hopeful heart
Night City makes it easy to confuse becoming a legend with having a life worth living. Mercenaries replace their flesh with increasingly powerful chrome, take gigs they have no business surviving, and hope somebody remembers their name after it all inevitably goes to hell. The first season of Netflix's Cyberpunk: Edgerunners made a devastating romance out of that bargain. Cyberpunk: Edgerunners 2, which continues the anthology series on Oct. 20, finds something far more hopeful in the same brutal world.
Across 10 episodes, director Kai Ikarashi and the teams at CD Projekt Red and Studio Trigger deliver another spectacular collision of corporate cruelty, dangerous technology, and people pushing themselves past their limits. The ingredients are familiar, sometimes a little too much. But an extraordinary ensemble and the relationships that develop among its members make this return to Night City richer, more rewarding, and downright better.
Night City’s loneliest people find each other
Edgerunners 2 initially threatens to repeat its predecessor. It opens with a heavily augmented man succumbing to cyberpsychosis after a gig goes south. He goes on a grisly killing spree. Another rampage? Another warning about how too much chrome is always a bad idea? This time, the man at the center of the carnage has a life to navigate afterward. Once a celebrated edgerunner known as King, Weak Kingsley (Clancy Brown) emerges as a shell of his former self, hulking arms replaced by frail robot limbs that make C-3PO look buff. Following a burnout like this who lived rather than got obliterated by Militech somehow gives a familiar setup a compelling new direction.
That shift matters because, for all its visual brilliance, the first season of Edgerunners left me emotionally frustrated. Lucy beckoning David Martinez across a simulated lunar landscape still puts a lump in my throat. I believed in their happiness a lot more than I believed in his compulsion to endanger it through increasingly extreme cybernetic augmentation. Season 1’s focus on their doomed romance left little room for us to get invested in the supporting cast, even when Maine’s breakdown in “Girl on Fire” delivered some of the series’ most spectacular animation.
This sequel gives its ensemble room to develop relationships that are equally worth caring about. Weak’s story is only one of four initially separate threads that writers Bartosz Sztybor and Masahiko Otsuka brilliantly weave together. The 12-year-old filmmaker Roman Carax (Valeria Rodriguez) records Weak’s violent breakdown. He’s got the soul of an artist and believes that braindancing has made most of Night City kind of braindead. His attachment to handheld cameras and lack of chrome himself feels quaint. He wants to capture something real. Unfortunately, Night City offers plenty of real things that can kill him.
Roman tracks down Maelstrom, a gang obsessed with extreme cybernetic augmentation. At their hideout, he sees Talia (Kimoy Lee), a young woman who’s more chrome than ‘ganic flesh, dancing across wires suspended inside a tower. Her movements are enchanting, but their brief encounter leaves Roman at the mercy of gang members who want to force implants onto him. Roman is saved when the vengeful netrunner D (Nazeeh Tarsha) attacks them at the perfect moment. D becomes a much more promising subject for Roman. D’s entire Nomad clan was wiped out, and he lives exclusively to see those responsible pay for it. He recognizes something in the kid’s compulsion to keep filming. “You want footage? I’ll get you footage,” he promises.
It’s the beginning of a friendship that becomes one of the season’s greatest strengths. Roman has found someone whose exploits demand to be documented. D has found someone interested enough to keep looking at him.
The central characters initially appear to belong to entirely different shows. Weak is a battered veteran trying to exist after the life that defined him has fallen apart. D is hunting the people responsible for massacring his nomad clan. Talia embraces the power that chrome gives her, while Roman follows his camera wherever it takes him. A call from Weak’s old flame, Avida (Cesili Williams), pulls him back toward old relationships, just as Roman’s encounters start connecting the younger characters.
Each intersection gives the characters another reason to care about someone beyond themselves. These dynamics show us different sides to each of the characters and gradually building more compelling emotional stakes through their relationships. As Roman grows closer to D, and eventually Talia, he becomes personally embedded within the stories he wants to record.
There are also explicit connections to the first Edgerunners, establishing that this story takes place after that season, but likely before the events of the game Cyberpunk 2077. The finer details of this timeline don’t feel forced. Instead, they build upon an already expansive world in meaningful ways.
As Weak’s story intersects with Talia’s, he sees in her the same kind of intoxicating pursuit of power that nearly killed him. Chrome can make someone feel extraordinary, and sometimes they really are extraordinary. David Martinez’s exceptional tolerance for cyberware was central to his rise. But that doesn’t make a person invincible. Everybody has an upper limit, however fiercely they insist otherwise. Both Edgerunners seasons care deeply about what certain people are capable of withstanding when it comes to different kinds of cybernetic enhancements. David’s cautionary tale looms large: How far will a person go before it destroys them?
By pairing Talia with someone who has already crossed that threshold and survived its consequences, the writers give the familiar warning new emotional weight. Weak’s concern for Talia comes from bitter experience. Brown grounds his performance in the exhaustion and wounded pride of a man who remembers being powerful, while leaving room for tenderness and wisdom. Knowing exactly where somebody is headed doesn’t mean knowing how to make them stop.
Capri gives Edgerunners a wild new spark
D’s loneliness takes a stranger turn when he and Roman track down an experimental chip that introduces him to a digital entity called Capri (Brittany Lauda). D’s first encounter with Capri involves them struggling over control of his body. What emerges is an impish ghost companion only he can see whose presence expands the visual possibilities of nearly every scene she enters. Edgerunners 2 displays her as splashes of neon pinks and greens with jagged shapes constantly morphing across the screen. Set against the gritty realistic backdrop of the series, Capri looks as though she’s wandered in from another show entirely.
Ikarashi and Trigger make her visual incongruity part of her appeal. Even standing beside D, she seems to obey different rules. There’s something of the Cheshire Cat in her playful menace. Her childlike whimsy makes Capri delightful company and an alarming presence when paired with her extraordinary ability to manipulate technology on a wide scale with crackles of red lightning. You can’t help but wonder by the end of episode 3 whether or not she’s the most dangerous thing to ever exist in the history of Cyberpunk.
Yet Capri brings out something unexpectedly joyful in D, who regularly crashes at Roman’s home throughout the series. Early in episode 3, Roman films D drinking as he talks to his young friend about the nightmares he has every night. His dead friends visit when the stars come out. Tarsha’s low, rough delivery gives D’s grief a heaviness that makes his subsequent delight with Capri all the more striking. Roman’s camera captures both the haunted man and the person capable of absolute joy. That range gives their friendship a great deal of substance beyond the convenience of pairing an action hero with a cameraman.
Edgerunners 2’s music is just as essential to that emotional range and just as good as season 1’s iconic soundtrack. The needledrops repeatedly carry exhilaration and sadness at once, allowing an action sequence to feel momentous while keeping the feeling of loneliness or desperation close to the surface. I came very close to tears at multiple points during these 10 episodes, mostly thanks to the songs playing. The soundtrack makes moments of connection feel precious amid all the noise and violence.
Those moments are precisely what give Edgerunners 2 its remarkable warmth. In so many ways, it repeats many of the same elements and general trajectory of season 1: secret technology, corporate exploitation, the seductive promise of power, and the danger of believing oneself is special enough to survive it all. But the relationships among these characters give this chaotic world meaning. Their joy can be reckless, ridiculous, fleeting, and still matter so much.
Night City is still a terrible place to look for a future. Edgerunners 2 makes the desire to find one feel irresistible. Beneath all the spectacular violence is an earnest affection for people who still want to love, create, connect, and see what tomorrow brings. Becoming a legend might make a good story, but finding someone worth sharing a life with makes this one unforgettable.