If you’re looking forward to spending more time with the characters in “Nobody Wants This” without worrying whether Joanne (Kristen Bell) will convert or whether Noah (Adam Brody) will love her regardless, I have bad news for you. The will-she-or-won’t-she become Jewish question powers season two, and as in the first season, it’s a stagnant problem that’s not particularly engrossing.

And if you’re hoping for more of that electric connection the two shared in their pre-get-together episodes, I have more bad news for you. There’s nothing quite like that first dinner party or their first kiss in season two of “Nobody Wants This” (the closest we get is a flashback montage). There’s a reason so many love stories are about the initial courtship—it makes for good drama in a way the work of making relationships function just doesn’t.

But the show can carry on without that initial heat, giving us a look into the (mostly) grown-up lives of two beautiful people, while tweaking its formula for the better. This season, there’s less of Joanne asking inane questions about Judaism, like she’s never so much as heard of it before (even though she grew up in Los Angeles, and as we learn this season, had Jewish girls in her circle as a kid). Instead, she’s more immersed in the culture, so we get a more in-depth look at Jewish holidays and rituals like Purim, with less explanation around them.

In the first season, it was clear why Joanne wants to be with Noah—she’s not just tired of dating, but also of having no guiding moral force. He invites her into a more purposeful existence, and she eats it up. Now in season two, we finally get to see some of why he values their relationship so much. Part of it is certainly her freedom; opposites do attract after all. But it’s more than that.

Noah is stuck performing goodness—good manors, adherence to customs, and respectability. In season two, we see how that’s not serving him, how his act misled his past romantic partners, and how it’s now keeping him from dealing with the problems at hand. Joanne, with her lack of shame and lack of the ensuing need to hide or bury emotions, offers Noah a meaningful alternative. And this window into how she helps him grow is a very satisfying aspect of season two.

The show also gives us plenty of Justine Lupe’s Morgan, who continues to crackle on screen, a bolt of chaos and humor. This season, she’s tired of being jealous of Joanne’s relationship, so the taller sister goes and starts her own (with a slyly funny Arian Moayed as Dr. Andy). Their arc is both hilarious and insightful, reminding us that “Nobody Wants This” is at its best when it’s using humor to nudge its wonderfully flawed characters towards growth.

Fans of loser siblings should also rejoice because season two gives Sasha (Timothy Sans giving us heartfelt goof) plenty to do, opposite wife Esther (Jackie Thon, saddled with bangs). He’s just as charming as ever, while Esther moves beyond simply being an impediment to Joanne and Noah’s happiness. She becomes a full person, wrestling with her own problems even as she stays true to the prickly if fiercely loyal woman we met in season one.

The parents also continue to delight. As Sasha and Noah’s mom, Bina (Tovah Feldshuh), is a force of traditional Jewish culture and values. Her costuming is particularly evocative this season, reminding us of her generation’s values. While Joanne and Morgan’s mother, Lynn (Stephanie Faracy), is hardly the family rock, she still delivers beats both comedic and sincere.

Further rounding out the show’s universe, Leighton Meester, Seth Rogen, and Kate Berlant all make strong guest appearances, playing to their strengths.

Such a stacked supporting cast gives Joanne and Noah perhaps a little too much leeway to be boring. Yes, the central couple does some work on their communication and themselves, but they remain largely stuck. The final episode does promise a reset, but so did the finale of season one. Still, I’m hopeful about season three finally delivering what fans of this show have been waiting for.

In terms of plot and purpose, this installment is essentially a placeholder. But hanging out with these two families is still mostly fun, if sometimes a bit frustrating. And as long as you’re tuning in just to be with these people, to perhaps laugh at their escapades, to maybe learn a bit about Judaism if you’re a goy, then you’ll be satisfied. In its second season, “Nobody Wants This” remains a pleasure, if a flawed one, much like the characters it follows. Maybe that’s what it’s going for.

Season two is currently streaming on Netflix.

The new editor-in-chief of the Toledo Truth Teller is up against it.

He is in charge of a Midwestern newspaper that once employed hundreds of reporters, broke important stories, and had their own printing presses rumbling in the basement of the stately building bearing its name—but this paper is now on life support, woefully understaffed, subscribing to wire services for the bulk of its content, and sharing floor space with a toilet paper company.

That could be the premise for a depressing documentary about the state of print journalism in the 2020s—but Peacock’s mockumentary series “The Paper” is a smart, breezy, good-natured sitcom, and something of a love letter to the noblest aspects of the profession. There’s crisp writing and a likable cast led by an earnest performance from the versatile Domhnall Gleeson as Ned Sampson, the man brought in to save the Toledo Truth Teller. The series exists within the same universe as “The Office,” and successfully mirrors much of that series’ framework. Multiple camera crews lurk around corners and try to be unobtrusive as they film through window blinds and from a distance; a workplace setting featuring a group consisting mostly of malcontents who have no idea how funny they are; the straight-to-camera, talking head “confessionals”; and sly, sometimes biting commentary about the nature of a business that presses on against all odds.

Even when the satire veers into broader territory, there was nary an episode where this 37-year newspaper veteran (who recently took a buyout) didn’t recognize essential truths—some flat-out funny, some lovely and inspirational, some sobering and melancholic.

One of the great things about “The Office” was how it leaned into its conceit, all the way to the release of the documentary-within-the mockumentary series “The Office: An American Workplace.” (I loved “Modern Family,” but it never fully embraced the mockumentary format.). “The Paper” displays that same level of commitment, with the entire cast impressively mastering the technique that occasionally has them acknowledging they’re being filmed; in fact, the subjects here display even more awareness of the cameras than their Dunder Mifflin predecessors. As for that crew, we’re told it’s actually the same team that followed the employees of Dunder Mifflin for nearly a decade. Their new assignment: chronicling life (or should we say life support) at the Toledo Truth Teller, a small subsidiary of a conglomerate called Enervate.

As the smarmy company British business strategist Ken Davies (a deadpan funny Tim Key) explains it, they sell all things paper: “That might be office supplies, that might be janitorial paper, which is toilet tissue, toilet seat protectors, and local newspapers. And that is in order of quality.” The skeletal staff at the Truth Teller has been going through the motions under the scattershot “guidance” of the theatrically self-involved managing editor Esmerelda Grand (Sabrina Impacciatore, in a big swing of a performance that clicks about half the time)—but here comes Gleeson’s newly crowned, and comically inexperienced, editor-in-chief Ned Sampson to save the day. Or collapse from agita trying.

“When I was a kid, I didn’t want to be Superman, I wanted to be Clark Kent,” the overeager Ned tells the doc crew on his first day. (The Dublin-born Gleeson slips into a spot-on Midwest accent that never sounds over-modulated.)

The Truth Teller has only a handful of staffers with reporting experience, including Mare (Chelsea Frei in a star-making turn), a former M1 armored vehicle crew member who wrote for the military paper Stars and Stripes, and Barry (the always terrific Duane R. Shepard Sr.), a Stanley Hudson-esque curmudgeon who has been at the paper since the 1970s and has pretty much checked out. And hey, look over there! Tucked away at a corner desk is the wonderful Oscar Nuñez, reprising his “Office” role as Oscar Martinez, who is now head accountant for Enervate. When Oscar sees the doc crew approaching, he exclaims, “I’m not agreeing to any of this!”—but it turns out the release he signed in 2005 has no end date. Poor Oscar.

Ned’s gung-ho enthusiasm, albeit infused with more than a bit of desperation, is infectious as he tries to whip up excitement and drive in the newsroom. With Gbemisola Ikumelo, Melvin Gregg, and Ramona Young providing steady laughs as Truth Teller and/or Softee’s Tissue staffers who volunteer to be reporters for a couple of hours here and there, “The Paper” settles into the familiar, effective sitcom pattern of single-episode, punchline-packed plots threaded with ongoing storylines about the leading players. (Ned practically ties himself into a pretzel, ensuring that every employee is seen and nobody is offended.) There’s a lot of cringe-humor, and much of it lands, though a few episodes contain some forced and superfluous developments. The scripts are also laced with cynical but often painfully accurate depictions of certain kinds of modern-day journalistic practices that might have been frowned upon in the past, and we’ll leave it at that.

Gleeson is the undisputed star of the show, but workplace comedies are only as good as the team, and “The Paper” has a talent-laden roster, with nearly a dozen characters worthy of our interest. The stellar starting lineup plus the deep bench—that’s the key to keeping us invested episode after episode, perhaps even season after season. For all its cynicism and darkly comedic humor about its subject, the show shares much of Ned’s passion for ink-stained journalism. From time to time, we catch glimpses of a 1971, black-and-white documentary about the Toledo Truth Teller, where the publisher (played by an iconic American writer and actor) beams with pride about the important work done by the hundreds of reporters, saying. “We only keep democracy, is all.” How can we not root for Ned Sampson and his merry band to keep fighting that good fight?

Full season screened for review. All episodes premiere on Peacock September 4th.