If the first episode of All’s Fair’s second season ended with a sting, the second decides to test its characters’ honesty at an altitude hardly suited to settling scores. “Going Down” brings these women together on a private plane, confronts them with the possibility of dying and discovers that fear can create a closeness years of knowing one another have failed to guarantee.

The tackiness remains intact, as do the clothes and the absurdities. But there is an interesting shift in how the attention is distributed. At least in these opening chapters, Kim Kardashian seems less central, leaving Sarah Paulson, Glenn Close and Naomi Watts to carry many of the scenes. And when an episode depends on women trying to manage their resentments while believing they are living their final minutes, that combination works.

This article contains spoilers for the second episode of Season 2.

A divorce and a sexual perversion in the middle of the settlement

Since its first season, the series has used divorce cases as opportunities to welcome well-known actresses in guest appearances as clients who are wealthy, famous or simply involved in absurd separations. The structure brings the cast together around a negotiation while revealing some intimate detail everyone might have preferred not to know.

The second episode follows the same arrangement: Carr on one side, representing the husband, and the women at the firm on the other. What seemed to be a separation heading toward resolution acquires a sexual component involving an animal, the kind Ryan Murphy likes to introduce precisely to watch everyone squirm. Even the attorneys, who should professionally be accustomed to hearing everything, are surprised.

The fun goes beyond the shock. These negotiations also show that, despite the hostility, the women can assess their own clients with some distance. Representing someone does not mean believing every version of events they offer, much less sharing their choices. The lies and absurd behavior appear on both sides of the table.

It is through that professional recognition that Carr becomes closer to her rivals than any of them would like to admit. They may disagree about methods, trade insults and threaten to destroy one another’s businesses, but they understand the human material they work with. At certain moments, the look they share over their clients says more than any attempt at reconciliation.

This also helps explain why the break is never complete. There is a shared history, a professional language and an ability to recognize one another’s intelligence, even when being together seems unbearable.

Dina still believes in Carr

Dina plans a trip to scatter Doug’s ashes and wants the people closest to her by her side. Naturally, within that very particular logic, Carr is included. After everything that has happened, Dina’s insistence on keeping this woman around remains one of the hardest decisions to understand and one of the most necessary for the soap opera to work.

She repeats that Carr is, deep down, a good person. We are still waiting to meet that person, but there is no shortage of evidence of a difficult life and accumulated suffering. It is possible to understand the bitterness without believing that it resolves the cruelty.

Dina seems to see a version of Carr the others cannot always reach. Liberty, too, is easily affected and persuaded. My impression is that the two yield more readily to their rival’s overtures than Allura and Emerald, who usually maintain greater resistance. Even so, none of them manages to keep her distance for long.

On the plane, their enforced proximity offers another opportunity for this tortuous understanding. The problem is that Carr is terrified of flying and turns that fear into another Sarah Paulson performance.

Fear, medication and honesty

Carr recounts supposed near misses with aviation disasters in a sequence designed to make us laugh. Personally, I am not sure the joke works particularly well. With so many accidents and incidents involving jets, the subject brings a discomfort the intensity of the performance cannot always dispel. It passed, but this was not the humor that won me over here.

The confusion over the medication adds another layer to the loss of control. Between the substance placed in a drink and the glasses changing hands, nobody seems certain who took what. The uncertainty remains as the situation stops being merely an anxiety attack.

When both engines catch fire, everyone shares Carr’s fear. The possibility of dying turns the trip into an exchange of honest admissions: messages to family members, regrets and things that might never be said under normal circumstances.

The best part of the episode lies in that suspension of their defenses. These are women accustomed to controlling their own image and identifying other people’s weaknesses, now with no guarantee they will have time to make amends. For a few minutes, winning the argument no longer seems so important.

Once again, they manage to understand one another in a tortuous way. Affection emerges mixed with hostility, confession does not erase resentment, and growing closer remains a long way from making their relationships simple. But there is something there that explains why they keep trying with one another.

Liberty and Carr: Hostility changes direction

Among Carr’s regrets is never having experienced sex with a woman. After so many homophobic taunts directed at Liberty, the confession changes how we read that persistent attention. It is not enough to explain or excuse everything she has said, but it introduces a possibility the series clearly intends to explore.

The conversation about being flexible fits perfectly into this shift. Carr retains her willingness to provoke, but now the provocation also allows her to get closer. Liberty, meanwhile, remains receptive to a woman who can unsettle her with worrying ease.

Liberty’s girlfriend ends their relationship because she considers her too intense, leaving a ticket to a Brandi Carlile concert available. Carr offers to accompany her, and Liberty does not seem to dislike the idea.

It is a rather quick change after their earlier confrontation, but the series has never been shy about moving its characters from insults to intimacy. The question becomes what Carr will do with that closeness and how much Liberty is willing to overlook to feel understood.

Raul can do everything. That is precisely why I am suspicious

The danger gives Allura’s security guard an opportunity to demonstrate that hiring him serves a purpose. Raul, played by Cauã Reymond, helps avert the aviation disaster and advances the investigation into the threats against the attorney, identifying Marcus Weller as a suspect. The possibility of sabotage turns the trip into part of a larger problem.

It is such an impressive display of competence that it makes me suspicious. The man is handsome, available, knows what to do when both engines are on fire, and can track down whoever might be after Allura. Are we looking at an extraordinary security guard or someone whose perfection should concern us?

So far, the series has given us good reasons to distrust men who arrive offering exactly what these women seem to need. That proves nothing against Raul. My suspicion comes from how easily he assumes the role of solution to every problem.

His protection extends to Allura’s home, including their nighttime proximity. Obviously, the tension between them is part of the premise. Thoroughly objectified, Cauã enters this fantasy as a man to be admired and, theoretically, trusted. I still want to understand the second part.

Dina’s boyfriend deserves attention, too

Raul is not the only man who leaves me with a question. Dina talks about Brody, the young man who approached her while working as a waiter, and adds a curious piece of information: he is rich.

Then why was he working as a waiter? There may be a perfectly reasonable explanation, but the information changes how I view his approach. The issue was never a younger man desiring Dina. After so much pain, it is good to see her allow herself another experience. What arouses my curiosity is his story.

There is also a regret from Dina’s past that remains incompletely explained, adding another layer to what she does not immediately share with her friends. The mentor, too, has a life the group does not know in full.

“Going Down” ends by deepening both the bonds and the suspicions. The women survive an experience that brings them closer; Liberty discovers another possibility in Carr, and Allura can now rely on a man apparently capable of protecting her from everything. Dina, meanwhile, explores a new romance surrounded by questions.

The fear of dying made them lower their guard. What we still need to discover is whether they chose the right people to let it down around.