By design, almost everything about the second season of Netflixs Peabody award-winning American Vandal is different from the first—with just a few exceptions. Behind-the-scenes, creators Dan Perrault and Tony Yacenda are still using juvenile humor to subtly package searing commentary about both the true crime genre and the way we live under the unforgiving eye of social media. And in front of the camera just two faces remain to anchor audiences in a sea of brand-new teens and the adults who fail to understand them: Griffin Gluck as intrepid teen sleuth Sam Ecklund and Tyler Alvarez as his co-documentarian and American Vandal narrator Peter Maldonado. As even the look of the show changed in Season 2, its Alvarezs voice that remains the most identifiable aspect of the Netflix series. That instantly recognizable voice joined Vanity Fairs Still Watching podcast to discuss the shows surprisingly poignant second season.
Alvarezs is not always the most dignified job. This season saw his character Peter hunkered down in an alleyway digging through a pile of feces for clues. But for the 20 year-old Alvarez, American Vandal is a dream job: “To be so young and to be on a show like this. I know, a show about d—cks and sh—t, right? And Im saying how humbling it is to be on it. But its true.” Still, while never losing sight of the silliness that made the show a hit in the first place, American Vandal ramped up its ambitions significantly this year—beginning with the visuals.
Executive producer Dan Lagana credits Yacenda—who has directed every episode of Vandal—with completely re-inventing the shows visual style between Seasons 1 and 2. Yacenda wanted to include intricate, cinematic reenactments in the style of Errol Morris documentaries. That means many of Vandal Season 2s scenes had to be put together twice or even three times with Yacenda first shooting a realistic version and then, by altering the light and bringing in something called a “hazer” to create misty conditions, shooting everything again to deliver Peter and Sams black and white recreations. (Sometimes the same setting would get a third treatment as Peter and Sam explored the scenes of various crimes with their own handheld cameras.) “We had sometimes three, four crews running at the same time,” Yacenda says of the busy set.
This intentional aping of a different kind of docuseries in Season 2 meant that storytelling beats unfurled at a different pace. Viewers may notice more cliffhangers and shocking revelations closing out each episode of the season. That, Lagana says, was American Vandals attempt to be less like the podcast Serial and more like The Jinx or Making a Murderer: “You don't know the whole story,” Lagana explains. “Theyre holding a lot of information until subsequent episodes and introducing those as turning points for the audience—to constantly have them on their toes.”
In order to keep up with the shows new style, Alvarez says he mainlined documentaries between seasons in order to move beyond his convincing impression of Sarah Koenig. But the Serial host still holds a special place in the hearts of all the American Vandal guys. Lagan, Yacenda, and Perrault all took a pause to praise her. “Oh my god, I love her!” Alvarez shouts.
The second season of Vandal also challenged audiences by trading in lovable bro Dylan Maxwell (Jimmy Tatro) for hard-to-like outcast Kevin McClain (Travis Tope). The flat-cap wearing, tea sipping, longtime victim of bullying is the seasons prime suspect in the case of widespread fecal-related vandalism. Lagana says the goal in creating Kevin was to find a subject who was extremely alienating and force audiences to care about him anyway.
For his part, Alvarez says he can relate to Kevin. As someone who moved neighborhoods in middle school to a more affluent section of New York, Alvarez himself was the subject of class-based bullying. But the young actor says he thinks through Kevins story, Vandal captured precisely how bullying manifests now. “Youre not getting shoved in a locker anymore,” he points out. Antagonism these days is far more insidious and widespread thanks to social media and death by a thousand digital cuts.
And here is where Vandal swings hardest for the fences. The show has always offered commentary on both the state of the modern American teen and the role our digital lives play in shaping that. But Season 2 ends with Peter making the shows most heavy-handed commentary yet. In a voice-over that doesnt entirely condemn social media, Maldonado nonetheless takes it to task:
Were the first generation that gets to live twice. Our existences are simultaneously experienced and curated — presented, packaged, polished, for our own protection. We do all create versions of ourselves. To appear to be the curators of our own stories. To appear to be in the drivers seat of our own lives.
The seasons true antagonist Grayson Wentz (Jeremy Culhane) weighs in saying: “We are the worst generation. We are all full of shit. Youre fucking fake. Youre fucking plastic.”
But here Maldonado presents the other side of the coin:
Pretending doesnt make us plastic. Imagination is what makes us human. It allows us to figure out which version of ourselves fits best. Were not the generation, were just the most exposed. Were living in a constant state of feedback and judgment. So maybe the masks are a tool to survive the time. Maybe they provide a thin layer of protection. A place to grow, discover, and reinvent. The important part is having people who know you without the mask and being happy with who you are—beneath it.
The trio of adult men who are largely responsible for creating American Vandal didnt grow up under the glare of social media. “Ill say that it's a common conversation topic among people my age,” Lagana says. “You always hear something like, Oh, Im so glad we didn't have social media back in the day to document those years of my life.”
But for Alvarez, this subject hit even closer to home. “I choked up at one point doing that speech,” he says relishing the opportunity to be a “vessel for such an important message to this generation. I really hope that message sticks with people because it really stuck with me. We all do it. Try to cover up on Instagram and show people what they want to see. Being vulnerable is scary. It just is, because then people may not like you.” But if the continued glowing reception for Vandal is any indication, the truth is we are all likable even if, sometimes, we are full of shit.
Get Vanity Fairs HWD NewsletterSign up for essential industry and award news from Hollywood.Joanna RobinsonJoanna Robinson is a Hollywood writer covering TV and film for VanityFair.com.
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