A wayward and callous Ramy (Ramy Youssef), after cheating on his new wife, Zainab (MaameYaa Boafo), with his cousin; thereby inflicting untold damage on everyone in his wake, sits in a car with a dog of an incarcerated friend in the backseat. Cans of dog food are piled in the windshield. He listens silently to a CD explaining how to be a good Muslim. That ending to “Ramy” season two was akin to a firecracker exploding in your hand. The kid left holding the proverbial self-inflicting cherry bomb was Ramy, played by the show’s creator and director. 
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As the screen faded to black, with the camera’s gaze fixed on a car as dingy as Ramy’s soul, you wondered how the series could return with such a detestable character. Surprisingly, it comes back better than ever. 
The third season of “Ramy” takes place one year after the events of the previous installment. Ramy is still working in the diamond district for his politically incorrect Uncle Naseem (Laith Nakli), who is now freely searching dating sites for young available Muslim men (though even these interactions carry a rushed, transactional mood with Naseem unable to wholly admit his homosexuality). Ramy’s traditionalist parents, Farouk (Amr Waked) and Maysa (Hiam Abbass) have never been unhappier or closer to divorce than right now. The pair are still picking up the financial pieces from Ramy’s infidelity and from Farouk losing his job and his terrible subsequent investments. His independent-minded sister Dena (May Calamawy) is nearing her test date for the bar exam, with her own self-doubts arriving just as fast. 
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This newest season of “Ramy” is about the impact of Ramy’s decision at the close of the previous year. It concerns the myriad of ways: financial, personal, mental, and otherwise — his infidelity altered everyone around, including himself. It once again concerns sex and its weight within the Muslim religion. It features tremendous performances. And the series even gives greater space to the women in Ramy’s life (a consistent weakness in a series centered around a man grappling with his own shortcomings). The third season of “Ramy” is certainly the most self-aware season yet. 
It would be pointless, however, to enumerate every storyline in this newest season. If only because the developments that occur truly come together in the final three episodes. But there are some points of emphasis worth noting: While Ramy does begin the season working for his uncle as a diamond dealer, he soon branches out on his own by partnering with Israeli mobsters with anti-Palestinian ties. His decision prompts us to wonder if Ramy really learned anything in the ensuing year between his marriage failing and now. Because once again, he chooses his own personal desires, in this case, monetary, over the well-being of his loved ones. It doesn’t help that he is now in league with some morally corrupt people who see him as nothing more than a messenger boy. He has never been so dislikable than the capitalist bootlicking he does here (and that’s saying something!!). 
To sell these diamonds, he partners with his unreliable Jewish friend Michael (Michael Chernus), a man with an uncontrollable sex addiction that reveals Ramy’s own uncomfortable relationship with sex. While Michael as a character never really works (the series is far too concerned with him as a punchline than sharply interrogating his trials), he does translate as a good foil for Ramy’s own insecurities: Especially as Ramy tries to make contact with Zainab (she understandably would like to never see him again, even if he is sorry for what he did). Similarly, Uncle Naseem has more scenes this year, but he’s still deployed more as a sideshow than a three-dimensional person. Such is the difficulty of adding depth to such a loaded gun of a man. There are certainly openings in his arc, but they close oh so quickly. Instead, he exists here as a foil for everyone else, with his individual scenes barely moving further than the penultimate, aching episode of season two.
What has improved is how much the series comes to focus on Ramy’s parents. Waked and Abbass are such tremendous actors, you almost wish we had an entire season just focusing on them. Nowhere is Ramy’s dysfunctionality more readily seen than in their performances, to the point of them often adding more contours to Ramy as a person than he can ever hope to infuse. Speaking of the kids, while Dena as a character receives greater room, here, it’s still not altogether clear if the writers know exactly what to do with her. She isn’t just experiencing a personal and professional malaise this time around. But is adrift from her place in this series too. And her fate at the end of this season is far too conventional and undercooked (though that could be a foundation the writers are just itching to crumble).    
It’s a shame because nearly every other component took a step forward, especially the visual language employed by Youssef (it’s probably the best shot season of three). This season’s stylistic and narrative tracks feels like Youssef spent his time watching the Safdie Brothers. And not just because it centers on Ramy working as a diamond dealer in New York City. But you’re reminded of how the Safdies sketched Robert Pattinson’s character in “Good Time.” There are instances where Ramy displays that same frenzied, scruffy energy and a similar selfishness. He shows the same unavoidable unlikability that makes his abject state both tragic and disdainful. 
It would be fruitful to consider every storyline from season three: Zainab does return; Ramy’s friends Mo (Mohammed Amer), Steve (Steve Way), and Ahmed (Dave Merheje) all deal with personal problems that reveal their own desires out of life and their respective proximity to religion. And much like the previous season, this one ends with Ramy at a spiritual and moral crossroads. Can he change? What does change look like? And how much will his transformation cost him and those around him? Similar to its titular character, “Ramy” isn’t perfect. But this is the best, more fascinating season yet. [B+]