Our favorite small-time hustler with big-time dreams Mo (Mo Amer) is back for another round. But first, he must find his way home from Mexico City, where we left him last season. He was taken across the border when trying to reclaim some stolen olive trees—but as a stateless refugee without a passport, his entry back into the United States is complicated. He’s forced into situations that range from bizarre to downright dehumanizing in a race to make it back home to Houston in time for his family’s asylum hearing. 

Because, like real life, it’s never that simple. And this stage of the journey is just the beginning; waiting for him at home is his ex Maria (Teresa Ruiz) who has seemingly moved on, while issues with his asylum case threatens his dream of visiting Palestine to see his relatives. With family dynamics shifting and Mo’s trauma constantly coming back to bite him in the ass, he’s got a whole lot to deal with…and we all know he’s not the best under pressure. 

I fell in love with the poignant yet wry observations about life in Mo season 1; season 2 picks up where we left off and adds to its bittersweet layers. Mo and his family are all on the same journey but take very different routes that show off their wonderfully complex inner lives and how their past experiences shape how they move through the world. Mo’s mother Yusra in particular shines here as a devoted mother and wife and also a woman with passions and drive and her own ways of learning from those around her. Farah Bsieso gives an outstanding performance. As does Omar Elba as Sameer, Mo’s brother whose main storyline this season opens up a conversation about the treatment of mental health across cultures, countries, and generations that doesn’t shy away from walking into the gray areas. 

Of course, Mo is the glue that holds them all together and Mo Amer brings a perfect balance of humor, charisma, and emotion to his character arc. He makes mistakes and lets his frustrations boil over at the worst moments—but it’s so incredibly real that your heart will go out to him, even when you have to laugh at the situations he manages to make so much worse. His comedic timing and ability to bare his soul on screen is admirable. Mo’s need to be the hero is a lesson waiting to be learned; and really, it’s not about whether he does or not, the beauty lies in his messy journey through it.

The season is bittersweet as it delves through the complicated and far-reaching ripple effects of generational trauma, and how that American Dream doesn’t exist in the way we’re all told, but instead can take on new meanings. It also brings in searing truths about the Israeli occupation of Palestine—and the feelings of helplessness and grief in the face of genocide. And in its reflections, shows that small acts of kindness and community are what can help and heal one another when it feels impossible to make a difference. In so many ways, Mo is a tale of the best and worst of humanity and how telling stories is a way of keeping history alive. And we need stories like this more than ever.