You don’t just watch the Wednesday Season 2 teaser, you feel it. And strangely enough, that feeling kicks in with a song. Not some dramatic orchestral piece, but this odd, almost fragile version of My Favorite Things. It starts out familiar, sure. But then something shifts. The pace slows. The cheerfulness fades. Suddenly, it sounds like a memory you’re not quite sure is yours, something half-remembered, half-lost. It’s not there to comfort you. It unsettles you just enough to pull you in. And honestly? That’s kind of perfect.
Rather than offering comfort, the song unsettles. In The Sound of Music, it’s meant to soothe. But here? It creeps under your skin. That shift isn’t accidental, it’s entirely the point. This version of the song doesn’t just underscore the trailer. It reframes it, turning nostalgia inside out and aligning perfectly with Wednesday Addams’ world, a place where beauty often wears a darker face.
A show that doesn't just embrace the dark, it lives in it
When Wednesday first hit the screen, it didn’t scream for attention. It didn’t need to. Right from the start, you could feel it wasn’t trying to compete with anything else on TV. It just stood on its own, unapologetically different. Like it had already made peace with being the outlier. Alfred Gough and Miles Millar may have sketched the blueprint, but the soul of the show? That’s Tim Burton, through and through. You see it in the skewed angles, in the light that never feels quite safe, in that oddly dreamy gloom he’s somehow made a signature.
And then there’s Jenna Ortega. She doesn’t act like Wednesday, she wears her like a second skin. There’s this stillness in her, sharp and measured, like she’s already dissected everyone in the room and moved on. She doesn’t charm. She doesn’t try. She just is. They drop her into this strange, beautifully off-kilter school called Nevermore, a place for the ones who never belonged and stopped trying to. And suddenly, everything clicks. But this isn’t just some dark coming-of-age fantasy draped in gothic filters.
Wednesday’s world is layered. She’s haunted by visions, tangled in family secrets, and chased by things she doesn't even have names for yet. She’s not just navigating a mystery. She is one, quiet, deliberate, and impossible to look away from.
And honestly, it’s not the plot twists or visual effects that make Wednesday what it is. It’s the atmosphere. Thick with shadow, dressed in style, and built with intention. Every frame feels like it knows exactly what it wants to say, even when no one’s speaking.

Wednesday Addams: Not your typical heroine
Let’s be honest, Wednesday doesn’t want to be like anyone else. That’s not a phase. It’s a philosophy. While most teenage leads in pop culture spend entire seasons trying to fit in, win hearts, or discover their true selves, Wednesday already knows exactly who she is. And she has no interest in softening the edges for anyone’s comfort.
That’s what makes the use of My Favorite Things so sharp. The lyrics name things the average person finds cozy. But Wednesday? She doesn’t see the world through that lens. What soothes others might bore her. What frightens most people, that’s her sweet spot. So when that song plays with a chilling twist, it becomes something else entirely. It’s not a lullaby anymore. It’s a manifesto.

Turning comfort on its head
The genius of the teaser lies in the tension between sound and image. You hear this gentle, nostalgic melody, but the visuals are full of eerie tension and gothic imagery. It’s jarring, but also strangely fitting. In that dissonance, the show captures its essence: flipping the script on what we’re told is safe, good, or desirable.
For Wednesday, calm doesn’t come from sunshine and daisies. It comes from control, clarity, and quiet spaces where she doesn’t have to pretend. Her favorite things might be ink-stained journals, late-night investigations, or the satisfying click of solving a puzzle no one else could. And she’s not ashamed of that. In fact, she owns it, completely.

The song as a mirror
More than a clever musical pick, My Favorite Things becomes a mirror held up to the viewer. It asks us to pause and wonder: what are our favorite things, really? Do they belong to us, or were they handed down? Do they still comfort us, or have we just convinced ourselves they should?
This is where Wednesday stands out. It doesn’t spoon-feed us morality or tie everything up in a neat arc. Instead, it invites discomfort, ambiguity, and depth. The trailer’s reimagining of a beloved song is a perfect example of that. It doesn’t tell you what to feel. It makes space for you to feel something unexpected.

Mark your calendar, and stay curious
The second season of Wednesday will arrive in two parts on Netflix.
Part 1 drops August 6, 2025
Part 2 follows on September 3, 2025
If this teaser is any indication, what’s coming isn’t just another round of mysteries and monsters. It’s a deeper dive into what it means to be different, and to embrace that difference with pride.
So when that strange, ghostly version of My Favorite Things plays again, maybe you’ll hear it differently. Not as a disruption, but as a new kind of comfort. The kind that tells you it’s okay not to belong. The kind that lets you breathe in the dark.
