Chad Powers Season 2 Review: Why the Hulu Sports Comedy Is Worth Your Time

When Hulu dropped the second half of Chad Powers on September 3, I expected more of the same goofy disguise‑gags that carried the first season. What landed on my screen was something a little richer – a six‑episode blend of slapstick, sweet‑spot drama, and a dash of thriller‑ish tension that makes you forget you’re watching a comedy about a fake quarterback.

The opening scene is a little love‑letter to the first season: we see Chad’s fake nose, wig, and prosthetic cheekbones hanging in a dusty basement, while “The Promise” from When In Rome swells in the background. It’s a clear cue that we’re about to step back into the world of Russ Holliday (Glen Powell) and his alter‑ego, Chad Powers, the unlikely starter for the South Georgia Catfish.

Two weeks have passed since the Catfish toppled Georgia at Sanford Stadium, Coach Hudson (Steve Zahn) survived a heart attack, and the show‑ending bus argument between Chad and Ricky (Perry Mattfeld) left everyone guessing. Season 2 doesn’t waste time on a rec‑cap; it jumps straight into a new crisis: Chad suffers a freak injury mid‑game and, of course, his prosthetic nose—affectionately nicknamed the “Pinnocchio”—gets knocked clean off. Suddenly, the façade that kept him on the field is in danger of collapsing.

Ricky, ever the reluctant ally, teams up with Danny (Frankie A. Rodriguez) to keep the charade alive. Their partnership feels like an oddball buddy‑com, but there’s a genuine emotional thread running through it—Ricky’s dad is on the mend, and she’s desperate to protect the team’s shot at the playoffs. Meanwhile, booster‑queen Tricia Yeager (Wynn Everett) cranks up the pressure for more wins, and backup quarterback Gerry (Colton Ryan) starts circling like a shark, plotting his own rise.

If you’ve ever binge‑watched Ted Lasso or the Apple TV hit Stick, you’ll notice familiar vibes: earnest optimism, a small‑town football mythos, and a coach who’s both a mentor and a mess. The creators have also slipped in nods to classics like Mrs. Doubtfire and Jerry Maguire, which feels like a cheeky wink to anyone who’s ever dreamed of a second chance on the field.

Here’s the bottom line: Season 2 is noticeably tighter. The first season spent a lot of time building the world and explaining why a disgraced quarterback would resort to Hollywood‑level makeup. This time, the groundwork is done, so the series can focus on character chemistry. We finally get to see more of Russ—Powell’s “real” self—stepping out from behind the mask. Those moments let his dramatic chops shine, turning a goofy premise into something oddly moving.

The supporting cast also gets its due. Steve Zahn delivers a surprisingly vulnerable performance as Coach Hudson wrestles with his mortality, while Wynn Everett’s Tricia steals every scene with over‑the‑top enthusiasm for trophies. And Colton Ryan’s Gerry, the jealous backup, evolves from a one‑dimensional antagonist into a quasi‑anti‑hero whose scheming feels both hilarious and oddly suspenseful.

The final two episodes push the show into a comedic‑thriller zone, echoing the dark‑humor energy of Powell’s earlier series Scream Queens. Without the usual world‑building chatter, the narrative accelerates, and the stakes feel real—both on the field and in the locker room.

Bottom line? If you laughed at the first season’s absurdity, you’ll love how much smarter and heart‑warmer the sophomore run feels. If you were on the fence, the tighter storytelling and deeper character moments may just win you over. In short: stream it. Skip it only if you can’t stand a little makeup‑related deception in your sports comedies.