The wait for the second season of Neil Gaiman's The Sandman has been a long and troubled one. Disturbing allegations against Gaiman have put various projects either on hiatus, reduced in scope or canceled entirely. The Sandman, which debuted with an exceptionally good first season in 2022, appeared to suffer some delays, but the second -- and final -- season has finally been released on Netflix.

Personally, Gaiman has long been a hero of mine, and the allegations against him have been horrifying, to say the least. An avid reader of his work, I confess I have not read a paragraph of his since the accusations came to light. (I can remember similar feelings of horror when allegations were raised against various creative people that I respected, enjoyed and, frankly, trusted to be generally decent -- folks such as Joss Whedon, Bill Cosby, Woody Allen, Marion Zimmer Bradley, J.K. Rowling ... the list keeps growing.) So, the question arises -- how far can a creation be separated from its creator? Can you enjoy someone's work if you no longer respect them?

It cannot be disputed that series creator David S. Goyer did an incredible job adapting portions of Gaiman's 75-issue Sandman series into a limited series. Neither can we deny that the cast in this series -- foremost among them Tom Sturridge as Dream and Kirby Howell-Baptiste as Death -- brought their characters to life far better than I could ever have imagined.

It seems unfair that so many creative people who poured their talents into this project should suffer simply because the guy who wrote the original comic books on which it is based turned out to be, allegedly, a creep. Then again, it rankles to think that watching the series might somehow increase Gaiman's fortune, either through his role as the series' creator or in his role as executive producer of the show. However, a little online research seems to suggest that any profit he derives from the Netflix series was largely, if not entirely, in his hands before the allegations against him dropped ... so boycotting the show doesn't do him any harm. And, according to Goyer, Gaiman "wasn't as involved" in the production of season two as he had been in the first and, he noted, two years of filming was nearly complete before the scandal arose.

Everyone is welcome to decide if the argument is persuasive to them, or not. But, with that justification in mind, I decided to enjoy the series for what it is.

And I am very glad I did. It tells an incredible, multifaceted story very well indeed.

There are many parts to the plot of season two, each woven together and leading to a deeply emotional end. Dream, of course, remains at the heart of the story, and his older sister Death plays a much bigger role here than she did in 2022. Other siblings of the Endless also come fully into the story, including the machinations of Desire (Mason Alexander Park), the self-imposed exile of Destruction (Barry Sloane), the confused if well-intentioned meanderings of Delirium (Esme Creed-Miles), and the passive observations of the eldest, Destiny (Adrian Lester). The final sibling, Delirium's twin Despair (Donna Preston), makes several appearances but is barely involved in the plot.

Key elements of the story include Dream's mission to Hell to undo an ancient wrong against a mortal woman, the "gift" of Hell to Dream by a weary Lucifer Morningstar (Gwendoline Christie), the claims of numerous spiritual and mythological entities who believe Dream should pass the keys of Hell to them, the escape into the waking world by the trickster god Loki (Freddie Fox) and the hobgoblin Puck (Jack Gleeson), an ill-considered quest by Dream and Delirium to find their missing brother Destruction, the tragic tale of Dream's son Orpheus (Ruairi O'Connor) and its various repercussions through time, the efforts of Lyta Hall (Razane Jammal) to keep Dream away from her son, and the remorseless efforts of the Fates/Furies (Dinita Gohil, Nina Wadia and Souad Faress) to mete out punishment for a death. Like I said, there's a lot going on.

Other key figures who appear throughout the tale include the Dreaming's steadfast librarian Lucienne (Vivienne Acheampong), Matthew the Raven (voiced by Patton Oswalt), two incarnations of Johanna Constantine (both played by Jenna Coleman), the faerie Nuala (Ann Skelly), the Dreaming's handyman Merv Pumpkinhead (Nicholas Anscombe, voiced by Mark Hamill), the human manifestation of Fiddler's Green also known as Gilbert (Stephen Fry), the undying witch Mad Hettie (Clare Higgins), the remade nightmare known as The Corinthian (Boyd Holbrook) and a very good dog named Barnabus (voiced by Steve Coogan).

While season one had multiple directors, season two was directed entirely by Jamie Childs, who did sterling work; the storyline flows smoothly and easily between various plot points, always building toward a cataclysmic finale.

The series is stunning in its scope, with deeply felt emotions as Dream of the Endless copes with the ramifications of past hubris, grief and vengeance. Despite Gaiman's questionable worth as a human being, there is no denying his gifts as a master storyteller. This story, so well told decades ago in comic-book form, gains new life and relevance through this TV adaption, and frankly, I cannot conceive of a better interpretation.

The series ends with an episode focusing on Death, rather than Dream, based on the stand-alone book Death: The High Cost of Living. In this one-off tale, Death spends one day each century as a mortal, to experience what it's like to be alive. It's a poignant episode, very well done.

As a final note, echoing comments I made in a review of the first season, pay no heed to the so-called fans who have complained bitterly about certain casting choices. If they are upset that a male character in the comics is female on screen, or that a character's pigments are darker than first imagined, or that gay or bisexual people exist, then they don't understand the point of the story at all and should stick in the future to shallower waters.