Taboo: Season 2 (2025) returns after nearly a decade of silence — a long-awaited resurrection of one of television’s most haunting, poetic, and brutal sagas. With Tom Hardy once again commanding the screen as the enigmatic James Keziah Delaney, this new chapter deepens the mythology of power, madness, and survival first forged in the blood-soaked fog of 19th-century London. The result is a masterwork of historical drama — darker, more feverish, and more unrelenting than ever before.

The season opens in 1816, as Delaney and his surviving allies sail westward, leaving behind the smoke and betrayal of England. Their destination: the newborn America, a land as corrupt and hungry as the empire they fled. But even across the ocean, ghosts follow. The shadow of the East India Company lingers, and a new empire — the United States — is eager to claim Delaney’s most dangerous possession: knowledge. Specifically, the secrets of Nootka Sound — the strategic key to trade and power across the Pacific.
Tom Hardy’s performance as Delaney is a force of nature, an embodiment of controlled chaos. His voice, low and volcanic, carries the weight of a man cursed by intelligence and driven by instinct. Season 2 finds him more ruthless, more calculating, yet somehow more human. Beneath the mud and scars, Hardy reveals the tragic soul of a man who has seen too much and refuses to die until his vengeance — or his vision — is complete.

Returning alongside him is Jessie Buckley as Lorna Bow, whose evolution from widow to warrior stands as one of the show’s most compelling arcs. Her dynamic with Delaney — equal parts alliance, attraction, and mutual distrust — provides the season’s emotional backbone. Oona Chaplin returns as Zilpha Geary in haunting visions that blur the line between memory and madness, while Stephen Graham joins the cast as Silas Monroe, a pirate-turned-revolutionary whose loyalty is as unstable as the sea.
Visually, Taboo remains unmatched. Director Kristoffer Nyholm and cinematographer Mark Patten craft each frame like a painting — candlelit rooms, mud-soaked alleys, and storm-tossed decks filmed with tactile, grim beauty. The color palette — ash, blood, and gold — makes every scene feel like it’s rotting in glory. The world of Taboo is one of decay masquerading as progress, a vision of civilization built on bones.
The writing, co-created by Tom Hardy and his father, Chips Hardy, is razor-sharp — Shakespearean in its weight, yet modern in its ferocity. Dialogue unfolds like poetry sharpened into weaponry. The show’s signature mix of mysticism, politics, and psychological warfare returns in full force. The supernatural elements — once whispers — now pulse louder, intertwining with Delaney’s heritage and hinting at something older than empire itself.

The music, once again composed by Max Richter, is mournful and magnificent — cellos groaning like ships in fog, choirs dissolving into thunder. His score carries the weight of prophecy, grounding the chaos in solemn grandeur. Every note feels earned, every silence heavy with meaning.
Thematically, Taboo: Season 2 expands its focus from individual rebellion to global corruption. Where Season 1 explored the rot within London’s power structures, Season 2 exposes the birth of new empires — and how men like Delaney, monstrous yet visionary, become their architects. The show doesn’t glorify his brutality; it interrogates it. Delaney isn’t a hero or villain — he’s the mirror of empire itself: ruthless, brilliant, damned.
The season’s midpoint delivers one of the most breathtaking episodes in modern television — a mutiny at sea filmed entirely in practical effects, merging claustrophobic tension with mythic grandeur. Yet the most powerful scenes are the quiet ones: Delaney’s confessions in candlelight, his rare moments of vulnerability before ghosts and gods, his weary awareness that power never frees — it consumes.
As the story crescendos, alliances fracture, and America’s promise of freedom reveals itself as another gilded cage. In the final episodes, Delaney stands between nations, hunted by both, his mind and morality slipping into shadow. The finale, a storm of blood and revelation, leaves him not as a conqueror but as something else entirely — a man who understands that the world will always belong to the mad.
In conclusion, Taboo: Season 2 (2025) is nothing short of a triumph — haunting, feral, and transcendently written. With Hardy’s volcanic performance, exquisite direction, and writing steeped in myth and mud, it reclaims its place as one of television’s most cinematic works. It’s not just a period drama — it’s a fever dream of ambition and decay, where every whisper is a threat and every sin a crown.
The empire has changed. But James Delaney has not. And that is what makes him dangerous. ⚓🔥