Murder Mindfully 2 review: Tom Shilling dark comedy is not as fresh, but still fun
German dark comedy Murder Mindfully returns with more therapy, more trouble and more bodies. Season 2 keeps its dark humour intact, even when the story gets a little wild.
One of the funniest moments in Murder Mindfully Season 2 arrives before the story has barely settled in. A toy parrot, capable of recording and replaying voices, appears ready to expose Bjorn Diemel's darkest secret. It repeats what sounds like a confession: “I dismembered my client, and now I am free.” For a brief second, it feels as though the game is finally up. Then, in typical Murder Mindfully fashion, the joke turns on itself. The toy records over the confession and plays back a police officer's triumphant shout instead.
That opening scene perfectly captures why Netflix's German dark comedy-thriller remains such an entertaining watch. It continues to walk a tightrope between crime and comedy, constantly finding humour in situations that should be horrifying. More impressively, it does so without losing sight of the damaged man at the centre of it all.
Season 2 picks up after the events of the first chapter, which could easily have served as a standalone ending.
In Season 1, Bjorn had seemingly tied up his double life with a tense but satisfying resolution – walking away from the worst of the violence while keeping his secrets intact. Instead of simply raising the stakes, the new season pushes Bjorn even further into the strange world he has built for himself – one where therapy lessons, parenting concerns and organised crime coexist with alarming ease.
The story moves forward by introducing a deceptively simple problem. Bjorn wants to recreate a cherished childhood holiday with his wife Katharina and daughter Emily at a lodge in the Austrian Alps. What follows is a chain of disappointments familiar to anyone who has ever tried to force a perfect family trip into existence. The service is slow. The food arrives cold. Tempers rise. Katharina grows increasingly frustrated. Bjorn, meanwhile, responds in a way only Bjorn can.
The series remains at its best when it takes everyday frustrations and twists them into something sinister. A delayed meal becomes a trigger for violence. A conversation about emotional healing becomes an excuse for criminal behaviour. What makes it funny is that Bjorn genuinely believes he's doing the right thing, even when he's completely missing the point of the advice he's been given.
That idea reaches a new level this season through therapist Joschka Breitner's advice that Bjorn should reconnect with his inner child. Rather than treating this as a metaphor, the series turns it into a literal device. Bjorn begins seeing a younger version of himself accompanying him through daily life, offering observations, encouragement and sometimes trouble.
On paper, it sounds like a gimmick. In execution, it largely works because it reveals something deeper about Bjorn. Beneath the calm exterior is a man still shaped by childhood disappointments and unresolved anger. The appearance of his younger self adds an emotional layer that the first season only hinted at. For all the murder and absurdity, Murder Mindfully occasionally becomes a story about a man trying, and often failing, to understand why he is the way he is.
The writing deserves credit for balancing these shifts in tone. One moment, the show is poking fun at self-help culture. The next, it is quietly exploring family dynamics and generational trauma. Not every idea lands perfectly, and there are stretches where the inner-child concept threatens to become repetitive. Yet the screenplay remains sharp enough to keep pulling itself back from the edge.
Watch Murder Mindfully 2 trailer:
Tom Schilling (Bjorn Diemel) continues to be the show's greatest strength. His performance as Bjorn is remarkably controlled. He rarely raises his voice or indulges in dramatic outbursts, which somehow makes the character more unsettling. Schilling understands that the comedy comes from restraint. Bjorn can discuss mindfulness techniques with the same calm expression he uses while managing criminal operations, and that contrast remains endlessly amusing.
The supporting cast also contribute effectively, particularly Britta Hammelstein as police officer Nicole. Her pursuit of Bjorn provides much of the season's tension, while her growing frustration mirrors that of viewers who keep waiting for him to face consequences.
Visually, the series remains understated. It never relies on flashy filmmaking or exaggerated violence to make its point. The direction keeps things moving at a brisk pace across eight half-hour episodes, while the background score subtly supports the tension without overwhelming scenes. The result is a show that feels light on its feet even when dealing with dark material.
What makes Murder Mindfully stand out is its willingness to trust its audience. It does not spoon-feed its jokes, nor does it over-explain its themes. Instead, it invites viewers into Bjorn's increasingly warped logic and asks them to laugh at how absurdly far he is willing to take every piece of therapeutic advice.
Season 2 does not reinvent the series, but it understands exactly what made the first season work. It remains clever, darkly funny and just self-aware enough to stop its more ridiculous ideas from collapsing under their own weight. There are moments when the story feels close to spinning out of control, but perhaps that unpredictability is part of the appeal.
And yeah, the way Season 2 tiptoes out the door leaves just enough delightful chaos dangling in the air that a Season 3 feels not just possible, but kind of inevitable – like the universe (or Bjorn’s increasingly unhinged to-do list) isn’t quite done with him yet.
Beneath all the deadpan laughs, there’s this sneaky, beautiful little undercurrent too: maybe true mindfulness isn’t about polishing yourself into some calm, therapised version but about making awkward peace with that wild, decisive younger self you politely buried under breathing exercises and good intentions. It’s messy. It’s funny. And somehow, it feels oddly freeing.
For those who enjoyed the first season's mix of deadpan humour, crime and psychological mischief, this return trip is well worth taking. Just don't expect mindfulness to mean what you think it means.
One of the funniest moments in Murder Mindfully Season 2 arrives before the story has barely settled in. A toy parrot, capable of recording and replaying voices, appears ready to expose Bjorn Diemel's darkest secret. It repeats what sounds like a confession: “I dismembered my client, and now I am free.” For a brief second, it feels as though the game is finally up. Then, in typical Murder Mindfully fashion, the joke turns on itself. The toy records over the confession and plays back a police officer's triumphant shout instead.
That opening scene perfectly captures why Netflix's German dark comedy-thriller remains such an entertaining watch. It continues to walk a tightrope between crime and comedy, constantly finding humour in situations that should be horrifying. More impressively, it does so without losing sight of the damaged man at the centre of it all.
Season 2 picks up after the events of the first chapter, which could easily have served as a standalone ending.
In Season 1, Bjorn had seemingly tied up his double life with a tense but satisfying resolution – walking away from the worst of the violence while keeping his secrets intact. Instead of simply raising the stakes, the new season pushes Bjorn even further into the strange world he has built for himself – one where therapy lessons, parenting concerns and organised crime coexist with alarming ease.
The story moves forward by introducing a deceptively simple problem. Bjorn wants to recreate a cherished childhood holiday with his wife Katharina and daughter Emily at a lodge in the Austrian Alps. What follows is a chain of disappointments familiar to anyone who has ever tried to force a perfect family trip into existence. The service is slow. The food arrives cold. Tempers rise. Katharina grows increasingly frustrated. Bjorn, meanwhile, responds in a way only Bjorn can.
The series remains at its best when it takes everyday frustrations and twists them into something sinister. A delayed meal becomes a trigger for violence. A conversation about emotional healing becomes an excuse for criminal behaviour. What makes it funny is that Bjorn genuinely believes he's doing the right thing, even when he's completely missing the point of the advice he's been given.
That idea reaches a new level this season through therapist Joschka Breitner's advice that Bjorn should reconnect with his inner child. Rather than treating this as a metaphor, the series turns it into a literal device. Bjorn begins seeing a younger version of himself accompanying him through daily life, offering observations, encouragement and sometimes trouble.
On paper, it sounds like a gimmick. In execution, it largely works because it reveals something deeper about Bjorn. Beneath the calm exterior is a man still shaped by childhood disappointments and unresolved anger. The appearance of his younger self adds an emotional layer that the first season only hinted at. For all the murder and absurdity, Murder Mindfully occasionally becomes a story about a man trying, and often failing, to understand why he is the way he is.
The writing deserves credit for balancing these shifts in tone. One moment, the show is poking fun at self-help culture. The next, it is quietly exploring family dynamics and generational trauma. Not every idea lands perfectly, and there are stretches where the inner-child concept threatens to become repetitive. Yet the screenplay remains sharp enough to keep pulling itself back from the edge.
Watch Murder Mindfully 2 trailer:
Tom Schilling (Bjorn Diemel) continues to be the show's greatest strength. His performance as Bjorn is remarkably controlled. He rarely raises his voice or indulges in dramatic outbursts, which somehow makes the character more unsettling. Schilling understands that the comedy comes from restraint. Bjorn can discuss mindfulness techniques with the same calm expression he uses while managing criminal operations, and that contrast remains endlessly amusing.
The supporting cast also contribute effectively, particularly Britta Hammelstein as police officer Nicole. Her pursuit of Bjorn provides much of the season's tension, while her growing frustration mirrors that of viewers who keep waiting for him to face consequences.
Visually, the series remains understated. It never relies on flashy filmmaking or exaggerated violence to make its point. The direction keeps things moving at a brisk pace across eight half-hour episodes, while the background score subtly supports the tension without overwhelming scenes. The result is a show that feels light on its feet even when dealing with dark material.
What makes Murder Mindfully stand out is its willingness to trust its audience. It does not spoon-feed its jokes, nor does it over-explain its themes. Instead, it invites viewers into Bjorn's increasingly warped logic and asks them to laugh at how absurdly far he is willing to take every piece of therapeutic advice.
Season 2 does not reinvent the series, but it understands exactly what made the first season work. It remains clever, darkly funny and just self-aware enough to stop its more ridiculous ideas from collapsing under their own weight. There are moments when the story feels close to spinning out of control, but perhaps that unpredictability is part of the appeal.
And yeah, the way Season 2 tiptoes out the door leaves just enough delightful chaos dangling in the air that a Season 3 feels not just possible, but kind of inevitable – like the universe (or Bjorn’s increasingly unhinged to-do list) isn’t quite done with him yet.
Beneath all the deadpan laughs, there’s this sneaky, beautiful little undercurrent too: maybe true mindfulness isn’t about polishing yourself into some calm, therapised version but about making awkward peace with that wild, decisive younger self you politely buried under breathing exercises and good intentions. It’s messy. It’s funny. And somehow, it feels oddly freeing.
For those who enjoyed the first season's mix of deadpan humour, crime and psychological mischief, this return trip is well worth taking. Just don't expect mindfulness to mean what you think it means.
