For two seasons, Ramy has challenged expectations – whether it’s of complicated depictions of Islam or talking openly about porn, creator Ramy Youssef does not shy away from unattractive portraits of human life.
RAMY: SEASON 3: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?
Opening Shot: A voiceover accompanies a black screen, rhetorically asking, “do you believe in fate?” When the images kick in, we see Ramy holding empty jewelry boxes in his car.
The Gist: Picking up a few years after the events of season two — in which Ramy committed himself fully to his faith, marrying Zainab (MaameYaa Boafo) before quickly divorcing her after admitting to sleeping with his cousin the night before the wedding — it’s safe to say, those events took a toll on him. Now, Ramy is estranged from Zainab and has shifted his focus to making money as he helps his Uncle Naseem (Laith Nakli) grow his jewelry business, and also because he still owes Zainab her dowry from the wedding.
When he has an opportunity to expand the business via a big Israeli supplier, he takes it despite everyone warning him that the people in question have a shady record. Internally, he’s continuing to have a crisis of faith, which is manifesting in his inability to get it up during sex.
What Shows Will It Remind You Of? Ramy is part of a wave of semi-autobiographical studies from auteurs including Aziz Ansari’s Master of None and the recent Mo from Mo Amer, which Youssef helped create.
Our Take: The first word that comes to mind when watching Ramy is “challenging.” Youssef and his writer’s room don’t shy away from putting their characters in uncomfortable and unlikeable situations in which their true colors are revealed, but they still imbue them with enough humanity that we are left rooting for them despite it all. Seasons one and two laid the groundwork, and season three takes the show to new heights as Ramy deals with the fallout of his actions and wonders what is the point of it all?
The question of fate, and whether God has planned all of these missteps hangs over the season, starting with an impactful voiceover in the opening frames of the season. It’s explicit at first before becoming a theme — something in the back of your head as you watch Ramy, his family and his friends make impulsive decisions, the consequences of which reverberate throughout the season.
Ramy has never shied away from political statements or interrogating social mores, and season three is no different as the show travels to Israel and confronts the Israeli-Palestinian conflict head-on. The series also wouldn’t be what it is without its cast, who is turning in stellar performances. Season three made headlines for the inclusion of Bella Hadid in her first acting role, but I wouldn’t get too excited as she barely has any screen time (though she does transform in her role).
My one wish is that we could spend more time with Dena (May Calamawy), Ramy’s sister. Her storylines always feel pushed to the back even when they seem urgent. Hopefully we’ll get that in a still-to-be-announced season 4.
Sex and Skin: Not much visual explicitless, though Ramy’s ongoing addiction to sex and porn is still a storyline in season 3.
Parting Shot: At the end of the first episode, the camera lingers on Ramy’s mom’s hands as she hands him his passport for an ill-advised business trip to Israel. He looks guiltily at a “home is where the heart is” sign on the wall, as people have been questioning the boundaries of faith and culture throughout the episode.
Sleeper Star: In episode one, all eyes are on Ramy Youssef. And after a two year break between seasons, Youssef is entirely effective in conveying how Ramy’s life has changed since the events of season 2. He’s sunken and emotionless, questioning everything, while also naturally slipping into the role of a slimy salesman — and Youssef commits fully.
Most Pilot-y Line:: Entering its third season, Ramy has perfected the balance between deep musings about religion and identity with hilarious one-liners that double as observations about communities at large. The season opener begins with a voiceover from Ramy unraveling his feelings about fate and Islam, questioning “how can you choose what’s already been chosen?” and whether his “only choice is if he’s gonna be smiling when he meets God.”
Elsewhere in the episode, a secondary character comments on Islam’s growing presence in American life stating that, “you can’t fuck in New York unless you know Rumi,” referencing the 13th century poet whose lyrics pop up on Instagram often. The duality of the two moments is Ramy at its best.
Our Call: STREAM IT. The third season is challenging but worthwhile.
Radhika Menon (@menonrad) is a TV-obsessed writer based in Los Angeles. Her work has appeared on Vulture, Teen Vogue, Paste Magazine, and more. At any given moment, she can ruminate at length over Friday Night Lights, the University of Michigan, and the perfect slice of pizza. You may call her Rad.
