Netflix Ultimate Beastmaster Season 2 Review: An Olympics Alternative

One of the thrills of watching sports, either in person or on TV, is recognizing that everyone taking part is capable of things that you fundamentally are not. Sometimes it’s throwing a baseball at speeds that would get you booked for reckless driving. Other times, it’s running so fast that you can pose for a picture while beating all of your peers. In Season 2 of the Netflix series “Ultimate Beastmaster,” one of those feats is leaping between giant treadmills suspended ten feet in the air.In that way, “Ultimate Beastmaster” is crafted as unabashed TV comfort food. Following in the well-established vein of other televised obstacle course spectacles, it’s similar enough to “American Ninja Warrior” (even using the same director, Patrick McManus) that anyone stumbling across it on Netflix would be forgiven if they thought that this might be the same show that’s been a staple of basic-cable reruns for the past few years. Bodysuit-clad superclimbers attack a mammoth obstacle course that requires dexterity, agility, core strength, and an uncanny ability to swing across giant chain ropes and awkwardly shaped handholds.

But there are certainly elements of “Ultimate Beastmaster” that are more than just an attempt to booby-trap fitness icons. The distinct international appeal of this iteration of the show is bolstered by an equal number of representatives from Italy, France, China, India, Spain, and the US. In addition to the teams from each nation, the six countries also have their dedicated announcer pairs, who are given leeway to cheer on their fellow citizens with minimal editorial oversight.

So no discussion of “Ultimate Beastmaster” would be complete without the true stars of the show: Francesco Facchinetti and Bianca Balti, the impossibly energetic and enduringly fun Italian duo. They strike just the right amount of playful rivalry with other countries, notably France. Along with China’s Bin Gu and Du Qin Yi, they’re the announcers that pay the least mind to the physical barriers in between each of the five hosting booths.

“Ultimate Beastmaster”

Darren Michaels / Netflix

For as much athleticism is on display in the various stages of the course itself, the real thing that separates this and makes it more than a supercut of raw feats of strength, are those moments when the competitor and announcing teams get a chance to interact each other in real time. Of all the elements of the show, it’s the one that you wish the Olympics would take up. Imagine: after a swimming relay or a photo-finish track and field event, seeing announcers from different countries playfully trading barbs or give each other pats on the back for the success of their countrymen.

What “Ultimate Beastmaster” still hasn’t figured out in its second season is how to properly take advantage of that spirit. Unfortunately, most of the time that could be ceded to more energetic and playful commentary is cast aside in favor of Tiki Barber and Chris Distefano, the American announcers. Barber manages to parlay some of his skills as an NFL running back into being an announcer, similar to how Akbar Gbajabiamila has done on “American Ninja Warrior.”

But there are only so many ways that you can say the term “point thruster” or scream “OHHHHHHHHH!” after somebody slips off a platform and lands in the water below. And despite having comedian Distefano as a color commentator, comedy is far from this show’s strongest suit. Between the overly casual nature of the commentary itself and the endless string of unfunny, misguided jokes at the expense of international contestants’ names, faiths, and cuisine of their home countries, the professionalism in almost every other area of the show is belied by the people who do a large majority of the talking.

Like other obstacle course shows and reality sports competitions, “Ultimate Beastmaster” has the same level of schadenfreude when it comes to cocky athletes. Sometimes that confidence is borne out by their performance, but part of the built-in fun of this competition is seeing athletes whose swagger is bested by a fickle hunk of floating metal.

“Ultimate Beastmaster”

Brandon Hickman / Netflix

But a large majority of the obstacle course runners are affable participants. “Ultimate Beastmaster” manages to feature a number of athletes whose charisma is on par with their ability to climb up through a giant transparent tube that’s slowly sinking into a giant vat of liquid. The strongest contenders from the very first episode, the Mawem brothers from France, have enough star power to sustain a show all their own. The other human interest cutaways, no doubt familiar to many Olympics viewers, don’t solely focus on American competitors. (The effort here to maintain an international focus only makes those announcer shortcomings even more frustrating in the overall scope of the show.)

The design of the course itself is astounding, working in multiple variations of each course so that not all of the preliminary episodes are saddled with the same handful of tasks. The idea that an independently created test of athletic prowess could be bested by only a handful of people in the world is an impressive feat of contestant casting, competitive design, or both. The variability of the courses cuts through some of the show’s repetitive nature, as do a few genuinely surprising tactics from a couple of the players.

Despite its shortcomings, the release date and familiar components of the show make this a prime candidate for extended viewing sessions during the holiday season. Needing to watch nine similarly structured episodes before getting to the ultimate finale may take some work, but this is one of the rare Netflix shows that gives viewers the option to skip to the end whenever they choose. Just as the calendar year winds down, this may not be the pinnacle of TV programming (particularly when compared to the shows right above or below it on the Netflix homepage). But as far as finding a show that can fundamentally entertain across ages and interests, there are few better conversation starters than watching some of the world’s greatest athletes on one of the planet’s biggest playgrounds.