While Netflix’s choice of series revivals can be suspect (and the results of the effort even more so) they finally picked something that’s worthy of continuation, without compromising what made it great to begin with.
The main storyline of this season involves Ricky, due to a miscalculation involving a stolen department store air conditioner, attempting to distill his massive dope stash (stored in the walls of his trailer) into honey oil to sell to Sebastian Bach, who has apparently stayed in contact with him after the Great Swayze Express Ride of Season 7.
The reason for the boys being filmed after Say Goodnight to the Bad Guys is explained as Swearnet — their actual production company, fictionalized here as well as in a terrible-looking upcoming film — essentially swindling them into signing contracts. The Swearnet branding is visible in a couple of shots, but thankfully isn’t overbearing.
Other than that, there’s very little difference between the old seasons and the new, though it is markedly more reserved than the more outlandish ones. The biggest difference is the cast: Ray is nowhere to be seen, and although Cory is back (and directed a couple of episodes) Trevor is still gone. Cory explains that they were traveling the country, and in New York Trevor missed a subway car Cory boarded, and he hasn’t seen him since. With those notable exceptions, all the favorites return, including Cyrus, George Greene, and Sam Losco, who act as the primary antagonists.
Although the group dynamic largely stays the same (Bubbles attempts to open a legitimate business, which is then co-opted for illegal activity), the show remains enjoyable. It’s not groundbreaking, but is tonally consistent with the majority of the series, which is more than one would probably expect from a revival years after the fact.
Also, the majority of one episode is actually the entire opening bit from Live in Fuckin’ Dublin, notable as the one part of that special that I singled out as being really funny — perhaps even funnier here, as it isn’t in front of a bunch of people who are “in on the joke”, but instead it’s a group of actual kids.
Bizarre side-note: the finale is directed by fucking Jay Baruchel for some reason.