What was the true story behind Tiger King, the Netflix phenomenon of the 2020s? Was it a thrilling trip into the ephemeral world of businesspeople and animal rights activists who exhibit massive felines in private zoos? On the other hand, was it a hard-hitting true misbehaviour narrative involving odious rivals Joe Exotic and Carole Baskin? Each of them might have had an interest in unique, weird homicide plots? What made the series so enticing when it first aired, right when people were starting to dig in at home to avoid an impending pandemic?
These aren’t idle questions. They’re probably the questions Tiger King creators Eric Goode and Rebecca Chaiklin had in mind before starting work on the series’ five-scene second season, which is now available on Netflix. They never sorted out the right reactions based on what they developed. The continuation of Tiger King is a let-down, with none of the holding narrating that made the previous run so special.
It’s tough to foretell what the upcoming season will be like. The main scene is the most upbeat in the entire collection. It looks at the complete Tiger King saga, including how the show spread across the U.S. during what turned out to be an excellent year for both America and the rest of the world. The scene captures the multiple ways in which the documentary’s participants resembled anecdotal characters to the general public, some of whom dressed up as Joe and Carole for Halloween or hotly debated the series members’ accountability or honesty. Then scenes two and three shift gears, vanishing into the hare hole of the claims against Carole Baskin, who has been linked to unfairness in the 1997 disappearance of her millionaire ex-husband Don Lewis, as covered quite entirely in season one. Aside from additional meetings with individuals who go over a lot of comparable stuff in great detail, the new information contributes almost nothing. Scenes four and five take a new direction, and they feel the most like a natural continuation of the main Tiger King story.
The primary season exposed the lack of administrative monitoring at natural life experience points of interest, prompting calls for the government to shut down these problematic duties from both fundamental rights activists and traditionally concerned locals. Season 2’s final two sequences depict the burden placed on Jeff Lowe and Tim Stark, two of the Joe Exotic-like Zoo owners shown in previous seasons. Even when government professionals roll onto their properties to remove their critters, Lowe and Stark get increasingly agitated and take frantic actions. Their moments are effectively the most stimulating of these five scenes, but their stories aren’t very well linked into the whole like the rest of the season.
Throughout each scene, Goode and Chaiklin return to Joe Exotic, who is currently incarcerated, where he has been watching what has been going on since Tiger King first appeared. He hoped that someone from his previous life would step forward and help absolve him of the charge that he hired an assassin to kill Baskin. The current season focuses on the ruined attempts to gain Joe a formal acquittal, including disturbing footage of the mission’s backers laying out a flag at a January 6th D.C. rally. Stop the Steal event elicits some heated reactions.
In the end, legal advisor John Phillips shifts his focus from the Don Lewis family (and losing their trust after encouraging them to participate in a promotion during Carole Baskins’ appearance on Dancing with the Stars) to Exotic and tries to re-energize everyone who turned against him.
Nonetheless, when Exotics’ case appears to be taking a turn in his favour, the season abruptly ends, implying that a Tiger King season 3 will be released in the not-too-distant future, comparable to it or not. After that, Goode and Chaiklin add an epilogue almost identical to a concept in retrospect, revealing the maybe more joyful prospects for each giant feline seized from Stark, Lowe, and Exotic.
That epilogue essentially extends the sense of direction that the rest of the time lacks. Tiger King is a terrible show. However, season 1 concentrated on some awful animal maltreatment, and season 2 demonstrates that something good came out of it. However, like the season’s intro, the epilogue likens selfpraise to the large crowd the series gathered. At the same time, people were unexpectedly stuck at home last year, looking for any form of entertaining shared insight.
Similarly, the producers eventually double down on the most irritating elements from their initial run. Indeed, they allowed their subjects to make unsubstantiated criminal accusations disguised as slander. They turn real people’s lives and deaths into dramas for viewers to chuckle at, heave over, and ponder.
Suppose Tiger King appears to be self-basic in scene 1, delving into how the series subjects have dealt with their newly discovered distinctiveness. It has occasionally resulted in them receiving surprisingly caustic words aimed at them, both online and in public. (Carole Baskin was subject of the most significant scrutiny, has decided not to attend any more meetings this season and is currently suing Netflix for incorporating her in any way.) Some of the most provocative moments in the new scenes return to the idea that an unexpected VIP can blur the lines between truth and fiction. When Don Lewis’ family sets up a tip-line about his disappearance, which unavoidably becomes overwhelmed with calls from people who need to share hypotheses they developed while watching Tiger King.
Furthermore, the team behind this show knows exactly what kind of weirdness their fans want to see. Whether it’s a mystic hired by the Don Lewis family retching as he walks around what he believes is the location where Lewis was killed, Jeff Lowe was building a strip club in his zoo, complete with a hot tub suite for when Shaq and Flav show up. Individuals in this microcosm remain irrationally fascinating, perhaps none more so than Tim Stark. The latter appears to be the perfect example of how the 2020s will continue to live in complete freedom and kick the American bucket life, as he demands that no one tells him how he can and cannot manage any creature he claims.