Veronica’s take-no-bullshit attitude -- once demonstrated through quick-witted quips and a built-in lie detector -- morphed into the demeanor of a woman made bitter and cynical by the world. She grew up as a girl who thought she had humanity figured out by its worst impulses, formed over years of witnessing infidelity, living around liars, and believing (and, more often than not, proving) that, fundamentally, she was always right. What could living with that jaded perspective through your formative years possibly do to a person?

Veronica’s flippant attitude and cockiness, while endearing in her teens, isn’t as forgivable in adulthood. While others have grown out of their worst habits -- like Logan Echolls, moving past his temper in Season 4 -- she remains steadfast in her stubbornness. Veronica had a brief moment of self-awareness in the movie of the same title, but any of the self-reflective progress she made in 2014 has been lost in 2019. She’s fully doubled down on her personal sense of right and wrong, and she feels she has every right to do so.

Kicking the season off with a single bomb explosion sets an immediate tone: Neptune is far more out of control than it’s ever been. Other bombings quickly follow, and the media and Neptune’s residents are overwhelmed by it.

Season 4’s main criminal plot acts functionally like Season 1 and 2’s: there’s one consistent mystery that carries through to the end of the season. But where previous seasons were bloated with 20-22 episodes each, Season 4 is more concise, keeping the story to 8 mostly hour-long episodes. The plot of “who is planting bombs in Neptune” is the only mystery -- aside from Veronica’s love life -- that the season spends solving, whereas previous seasons were able to stretch across a longer length of time with subplots/crimes for Veronica to solve.

Season 3 was the first break in that format. Though Veronica still spent plenty of time on friends (or friends of friends) in need or crimes that were solved within one or two episodes, there wasn’t one main seasonal mystery with that strong finale resolution. Without a consistent theme, it almost felt like the 22-episode structure finally caved, paving the way to Season 4’s far more concise take on episodic storytelling.

Though not the strongest in the series, Season 3 nailed the quintessential rapport between Veronica Mars’ characters, a reprieve from the dark crimes that are the show’s bread and butter. Exploring the micro plots and romantic entanglements was often an opportunity to dive into other facets of a character’s moral code or personality.

Season 4 brings a similar rhythm back, but in a tightened format. Veronica’s still Veronica -- she’s clever and fierce, fighting for what she believes in with her unique style of humor. This time her one-liners are paired with silly modern-day references like “the 'gram,” but Veronica and her father are so clearly (and charmingly) outside the bounds of millennial style that it evokes that same awkward laughter of your mom misusing slang to fit in.

Check out all the video game references in Veronica Mars in the slideshow below:

All of the Video Game References in Veronica Mars

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Sadly, the new, tighter structure doesn’t give much room for that same depth of character development we got to see in Seasons 1-3. Though there were dozens of supporting characters, we still intimately got to know their strengths, their weaknesses, and their quirks. Wallace, Max, Dick, Weevil, Sheriff Lamb… we had an understanding of who those characters were, and therefore any progression in their stories felt like chapters added onto the entirety of the overall narrative. Season 4 is so focused on its primary mystery (and on Veronica) that it doesn’t allow the story room to explore its new characters on that level. On the flipside, though, the tighter structure also spares us moments like Season 2’s pitiful resurfacing of Meg’s character, or most of Season 3’s scattered pacing.

But without that room to breathe, everything feels in service of Veronica’s new, hardened attitude. Keith Mars doesn’t really get as much of a chance to shine -- he spends most of the season avoiding telling Veronica about his increasing memory loss after the car accident he endured in 2014’s film, further solidifying the disconnect she has with her loved ones. (Enrico Colantoni still, of course, perfectly plays to the role of Keith Mars as the loving but ribbing father.)

Logan feels underdeveloped, too -- he’s mostly quiet, waiting around for Veronica to show him love and otherwise missing a personality to replace his former, temper-filled one. Wallace is an incredibly removed character -- he’s introduced as a husband and a father, but only actively engages with Veronica long enough to show how distanced she’s become from her friends. Even Matty, a new character and Veronica’s protege, feels like sidekick material meant to nostalgically mirror Veronica’s younger antics. Nicole, Veronica’s newest friend, has the most personality, but she, too, ends up a supplementary narrative point that services Veronica’s progression by the season’s end.

Veronica Mars, is, after all, about Veronica Mars. But that missing interplay between characters is what made its preceding seasons so charming, and without as much time invested in that dialogue in Season 4, it’s left feeling removed from so much of what once made that cadence so enjoyable.

This darker, more unforgivingly flawed Veronica seems like a product of a season that aims to find a tone that distinguishes itself from the rest of the series. And it does exactly that. Season 4 is still funny and clever, both in its display of detective work and its humor. But Veronica is, for once, borderline unlikable. When she rejects Weevil’s plea for help, as he attempts to appeal to their years of friendship, she rebuffs it without hesitation. When Logan gently proposes she join him at his therapy appointments, she scoffs at it. She apparently considers herself above therapy, almost like human-wide issues don’t impact her like they do others.

It’s a weird stance for the show to take, particularly when her finale redemption comes in the form of Logan’s martyrdom. Showrunner Rob Thomas’ explanation for killing off Logan makes sense on paper -- a world-weary private investigator with sharp edges for a personality functions more impactfully on a lonelier journey than one with her sweet boyfriend tagging along -- but it’s an unceremonious end for a character that’s been through as much as Logan has and been as integral to the show as he has.

The finale effectively drains all of Logan’s growth and dumps it into Veronica when he’s killed, playing off of this latest experience with loss to provide emotional weight rather than seeing Veronica undergo a genuine evolution of her own. Her unearned redemption rides on the coattails of Logan’s far more reasonable character arc, which at least tangibly explains his changes, however hollow the rest of his personality has become. At the very least, it’s a rare subversion to see the “fridging” in this case focused on the guy for once, but it’s not any less cheap of a move.

Patton Oswalt in Veronica Mars Season 4

Meanwhile, it’s the show’s primary villain that has the biggest spotlight, aside from the one on Veronica. Patton Oswalt’s depiction of Penn Epner perfectly encapsulates the phenomenon of a modern-day superfan. He doesn’t just happen to be at the scene of the first bombing in Season 4 -- he’s also part of a group of true crime enthusiasts who track and follow criminal activity in the hopes of solving them. He’s like Veronica Mars, just minus the training and private eye’s license and plus, you know, the handful of murders.

But, initially, Penn is simply the worst kind of fame-grubbing opportunist. He’s banging down the door of the show’s newest police chief, distracting her with half-baked theories. He’s unabashedly taking interviews with the media, capitalizing on his newfound 15 minutes and creating more problems for the investigation in the process. In an effort to prove he’s a valuable resource, he does occasionally also contribute to Veronica’s investigation, but not without consistent commentary in his attempts to validate and congratulate himself. He’s desperate for attention -- so much so that it corrodes his sense of right far enough to lead him to plant bombs all over town. All for the opportunity to be the town hero.

He’s a pest, but it’s also the first time the show has had a villain that wasn’t transparently awful, like a shifty mayor or a violent, self-absorbed actor. Also new to the show is J.K. Simmons as Clyde Pickett, who’s something of a side villain. He’s an ex-con who’s partnered with Richard Casablancas since their time in prison together, manipulating himself into a position of obscured power, raking in a percentage and pulling at the puppet strings attached to Dick Sr. It’s a fascinating role in which Simmons delicately balances his nefarious side with more of his conniving-for-personal-gain side. Clyde isn’t your unapologetically murderous killer type, like Alonzo Lozano, a new character played by Clifon Collins Jr., who casually holds a severed head in his hands twice in the span of 8 episodes.

Veronica Mars: Season 4

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Penn, meanwhile, is endearing in a way. His commitment, intelligence, and apparent rapport with a lot of the characters comes through in Oswalt’s performance. He grumbles at the rich kid partiers and gets flustered at his murder mystery cohort with the smug attitude. He feels real and unassuming -- like the worst he could do is let his insecurity lead him to annoy others with his attention-seeking. So it’s a well-earned twist near the end -- when I still wasn’t entirely sure if he was the bomber while Keith and Veronica were ruthlessly interrogating him -- that he is, indeed, the culprit. In the end, Veronica Mars Season 4’s most impactful character was the newly-introduced villain, and not any of the people we’ve lived with for more than a decade. An insecure fan of murder mysteries who endures heaps of doubt and derision, and who looks for attention and validation in all the wrong places. A too-real depiction of someone desperate to be heard.