Apple TV+ ‘Platonic’ Season 2 Episode 6 Review - Growing Pains on the Road

I drove into this episode feeling its wheels already turning, rolling laughter mixed with texture, the kind that often comes when two fabulously mismatched friends are flung into the metaphor-less wide-open road. Episode 6, Road Trip, plants Sylvia, Will, and Katie into the high desert’s minimalism, and from that dryness blooms both warmth and chaos.

What’s magical here is how the writers, Delbanco and Stoller, thread the emotional through-line into absurdity without yanking us off course. The set-up is simple: take these characters out of their usual L.A. bubble, and what spills out isn’t just comedic sparks but also fragile truths. Will is suddenly face-to-face with the messiness of working for Jenna, his ex-fiancée, and Sylvia’s gentle composure cracks as she starts to question Charlie’s stability, all while sand kicks up outside the minivan.

There’s something beautifully delicate in watching Will’s confident slacker persona wobble under real consequence. The man who once demolished e-scooters now watches the horizon and wonders if “corporate comfort” is a compromise too far. His engagement to Jenna, once comedic fodder, now feels like a weighted choice, made heavier next to the dusty clarity of the desert. It’s not just a joke anymore; he’s genuinely at a fork, and that tension hums under the laughs.

Sylvia, meanwhile, lives that brilliant contradiction stitched through the season: the cool, organized planner who actually misses friction. She’s the type of person who orchestrates weddings for everyone but herself, yet here she is, having a crisis of confidence about Charlie, her rock-hard husband. That quietly unsettling collapse of trust is handled with precision—subtle looks, the half jokes, the road enabling confessions. The episode doesn’t bloat into melodrama, but hits a rare sweet spot where emotional stakes don’t dilute comedy—they sharpen it.

Katie’s presence is a whisper of youthful absurdity, lightening the emotional heft. Her commentary cuts through the adults like a breeze, reminding us this isn’t a soporific midlife drama, it’s primed with fresh silliness. She doesn’t seize the spotlight; she nudges it, weaving connections with gestures, soft but sharp dialogue. Her cameo is definitely a reminder that these characters aren’t turning into the stereotypes they dread.

Most of the episode thrives on what it doesn’t say. When Will snaps at a gas station attendant, or Sylvia pauses before spinning another joke about Charlie, the silence that follows says more than any speech. That discipline is rare in comedy; here, it’s a sign the creators trust subtlety to land the sentimental beneath the laughter.

I’ll dance through the wins first—this episode captures the essence of Platonic at its best: the chemistry between Rose Byrne and Seth Rogen is not just on display, it’s how the story lives. They don’t overplay the relationship; they let it exist, quietly stubborn and real. There’s intelligence in the writing lines that don’t feel written, they feel said. The episode knows when not to jab too hard, embracing midlife uncertainty like a friend rather than a punchline.

But there’s a corner that didn’t round fully. The desert setting, while atmospheric, sometimes undercuts pacing. A few beats drag as the scenery lingers longer than tension or laughter demands. The road, or was that the runtime feels stretched now and then? In a season that populates themes of midlife turbulence, this episode risks becoming just a scenic detour rather than a necessary map point.

Still, it redeems itself with those emotional payoffs. The moment Will looks out into the sands, and the weight of adulthood and what he’s building—settles in, that’s the vulnerability the show never shies from. Sylvia’s gaze when she watches him over a shared snack, part amusement, part worry, is perfect. Tiny, human details like those are the show’s currency, and Road Trip spends it wisely.

In the end, the laughter sticks and so do the regrets, the doubts, the unspoken hopes. It’s not a perfect episode, it doesn’t need to be; it’s alive, and alive is rare. By episode’s close, we’ve laughed, we’ve winced, we lean forward, curious who these friends will be after the dust settles.

Final Score- [7,5/10]