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It may look like a half order, but Deli Boys is a tightly paced laugh riot in season 2

Hulu's underrated comedy crime caper returns in even stronger shape.

It may look like a half order, but Deli Boys is a tightly paced laugh riot in season 2

Sitcom seasons just keep getting shorter. Ten episodes, eight episodes, or, in the case of Deli Boys season two, a mere six. A second season, almost half as long as the first, could be considered a blow—and spending less time with inept drug-smuggling brothers Mir (Asif Ali) and Raj Dar (Saagar Shaikh) and their chic, savvy auntie Lucky (Poorna Jagannathan, a scene-stealer once again) is certainly a drawback—but damn if the Hulu series doesn’t take advantage of it anyway. Deli Boys barely wastes time upon its return, moving along at a brisk pace while advancing its story, developing its characters, and, best of all, churning out side-splitting humor. 

When the Abdullah Saeed-created series debuted last spring, it was a hidden gem in the mold of other irreverent Hulu comedies like This Fool, High Fidelity, UnPrisoned, and How To Die Alone. (Those last two, like Deli Boys, were created in partnership with Onyx Collective, a Disney imprint focused on projects from creators of color and other underrepresented groups.) Charming as it was, the first season also felt slightly burdened by a couple of stretched-out subplots. By trimming the excess fat, season two boasts a renewed, confident tone and purpose. 

It is, first and foremost, an off-kilter comedy with a fresh perspective. Deli Boys centers on Pakistani immigrants who run an illegal operation out of a convenience store. It’s a far more unique depiction of South Asians than what American TV tends to offer; usually, characters like Mir and Raj are presented as model minorities, supporting characters, or stereotypical villains (read: terrorists). The tide is slowly shifting, courtesy of shows like Never Have I Ever, Master Of None, and more recently, Bait, which feature multiple and multi-dimensional South Asian characters because of accurate representation both on- and off-camera. Deli Boys, with its morally compromised yet empathetic protagonists, is a worthy addition to this lineup. And it boasts a group of writers (Nikki Kashani, Mehar Sethi, Kyle Lau) and directors (Fawzia Mirza, Nisha Ganatra, Maureen Bharoocha) who can speak accurately to the experiences playing out on screen—the day-to-day ones occurring outside the black-market trades of Philadelphia, at least. 

No wonder the show seamlessly blends cultural commentary—down to its wardrobe, music, and the use of Hindi slang—into a familiar Sopranos-esque structure, complete with Lucky’s Carmela-like affinity for fur coats and animal prints. (Mir and Dar are referred to as Chief Saab, for example.) Deli Boys is about a family dealing with pursuing the American dream, burdened by the weight of generational sins, and struggling with various ethical dilemmas. Except, it shows this not through the emotional turmoil of a traditional mob saga but through a frequently slapstick, laugh-out-loud lens. The show mines humor out of Mir and Raj’s inability to make deals (although they try so hard), Lucky’s attempts to show them the ropes of the family business, and the trio’s desperate desire to expand a drug smuggling operation they inherited from the murdered Dar patriarch Baba.

In season two, they’re still trying to make their mark in Philly’s mafia world; seek revenge on their friend-turned-foe, Ahmed (Brian George); and expand their business. They set their sights on a casino run by the elusive Max Sugar (Fred Armisen), which has the unfortunate side effect of taking the brothers away from the titular ABC Deli, so essential to season one’s appeal. Everyone gets more than they bargained for when Lucky and Max, being the devious goons that they are, immediately fall for each other. This turn allows Jagannathan to dig even deeper into Lucky’s psyche—epitomized by a wild couples therapy session—resulting in a performance that is both naturally funny and evocative. The series also delivers its wildest half-hour to date in episode three, featuring appearances from Kumail Nanjiani as Raj’s lawyer and returning guest star Amita Rao (Adults) as Raj’s “situationship wife.” It’s a knee-slapper, with Nanjiani and Jagannathan riffing effectively in Hindi.  

Shaikh and Ali also level up in season two, having settled more into their characters. Their vibrant chemistry, coupled with their physical comedy skills, lends well to the show’s easygoing tone. To wit, Raj briefly goes to prison, where he adopts the persona of the Fuck Me Felon, i.e., in a Luigi Mangione-like twist, he goes viral for his hotness and hopes it’ll secure his release. (Speaking to the smooth cultural integration again, Lucky looks at Raj in his orange jumpsuit and lovingly refers to him as gajar halwa, a popular South Asian carrot dessert.) Mir’s arc isn’t as fleshed-out, but Ali imbues enough personality into his performances to make up for it. 

With season one’s dull FBI arc resolved, the Dars’ gain a new enemy now in Philly D.A./mayoral candidate, Andrew Chadwater (Andrew Rannells), who makes it his mission to bring down Raj, Mir, and Lucky. On top of its delightful guest turns from Lilly Singh and Robin Thede, season two proves over and over again why Rannells and Armisen are TV comedy staples. 

But the true stars here are Ali, Shaikh, and Jagannathan. At only six episodes—some running a cool 21 to 24 minutes— season two keeps its focus on the trio’s bond and comedic chops, yet sharpens itself along the way. Like any deli worth its salt, the series is reliable, high-quality, and oddly comforting. 

Saloni Gajjar is The A.V. Club‘s TV critic. 

Deli Boys season two premieres May 28 on Hulu. 

 
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