The first season of the endearing and charming documentary series “Welcome to Wrexham” played like a non-fiction spin on “Ted Lasso,” as likable Hollywood hotshots Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney bought the non-league and perennially downtrodden Wrexham A.F.C. and infused the residents of a working-class Wales town with hope that their lads would finally turn things around. It was a great underdog story, focusing as much on the players and the fans as the earnest, relatively naïve, constantly quipping new owners.
It’s a different ball game, or should we say match, in Season Two, as the series readily acknowledges in the series opener, as we see Reynolds and McElhenney taking an etiquette course in preparation for a visit from King Charles III. The likelihood of that happening before the documentary series is about as strong as Wrexham A.F.C.’s chances of ever making it to the Premiere League level.
This year we even get a montage of fans from other clubs admitting they’re envious of Wrexham’s newfound celebrity status, and the cash infusion the club has received. And while it’s impossible not to feel a little cynical about the constant product placement and the moments when “Welcome to Wrexham” feels like an extended advert, there’s no doubting the sincerity and passion of Reynolds and McElhenney — and how can you not love the players and even more so their diehard fans? As Reynolds puts it, “I don’t know how you don’t root for a town like Wrexham.”
I don’t either.
Season Two picks up in the aftermath of a heartbreaking playoff loss that derailed Wrexham’s dreams of a promotion to the next tier of professional football. The owners hope that aforementioned royal visit will help pave the way for a Leveling Up fund to restore the tattered Racecourse Ground — but the grant is denied, and Wrexham is relegated to underdog status once again. Still, the stands are packed for home games, with tourists flocking in from all over the world to see the now-famous Wrexham A.F.C.
Individual episodes spotlight some wonderful and empathetic figures, including autistic teenage super-fan Millie Tipping, who forges a bond with striker Paul Mullin, whose son Albi is non-verbal. (The scene in which Millie puts together a care package for Albi, filled with some of her favorite toys and artwork she has made, is just … lovely.)
Another episode introduces us to the top scorer in Wrexham, one Rosie Hughes, an instantly captivating young woman who works full-time as a prison guard and moonlights with the semi-professional Wrexham A.F.C. Women, who play on a nondescript pitch in front of small but enthusiastic crowds. (Sounds like the makings of a spinoff series.)
“Welcome to Wrexham” is nothing if not self-aware. Reynolds and McElhenney know that while the stakes are high for the people of Wrexham and they’ve invested a lot of time and money in the club, they’re gonna be OK no matter what. They allot themselves just enough screen time to lend their star presence and their quick wit to the proceedings, without overshadowing the real stars of the show: the good people of Wrexham.
