Detective Renée Ballard (Maggie Q) first showed up on screen in the series finale of “Bosch: Legacy,” where she and Harry F—king Bosch (Titus Welliver) reluctantly worked on a case together. But even if you’ve not seen an episode of “Bosch,” you’ll get oriented to “Ballard” right quick. It’s one of the great TV procedurals in recent years, a feat of plotting, character, performance, and using the medium to poke at a society that breeds it.
Q’s detective is working in a literal and figurative basement in the hierarchy of the LAPD, trying to crack the coldest of cases after an accusation of misconduct rankled the wrong feathers up the chain of command. With an island of misfit toys — that is to say, volunteer law enforcement that are retired, reserve or just civilians — Ballard does her diligence to ensure justice for the people whose cases have long been forgotten, uncovering some knotted conspiracies and brutal serial killers along the way.
There’s obvious familiarity to the serialized crime procedural, especially for those pre-existing fans of “Bosch.” This familiarity gives way to ease and even warmth that powers all of “Ballard.” It’s more immediately inviting than your average crime saga, even when trafficking in the hardboiled pleasures of the genre. The jargon, the John Does, the interrogations — all of these template-friendly elements are there, but arranged with a humanist core. It’s a lovely reminder of what can happen to old dogs when their masters take the time and care with teaching new tricks.
Renée Ballard is certainly front-and-center, but the ensemble around her gives the show much of its endearing core, playing archetypes only as much as they provide a jumping pad into more nuance. The always welcome John Caroll Lynch is a quiet MVP, playing a gentle retiree who can’t seem to stay away from solving cases; a great transitory figure between the more rebellious Ballard and the “good old boy” culture of the LAPD power dynamics.
Adding fire in relationship to Lynch’s coolness is Courtney Taylor as Samira Parker, a cop who left the force due to unjust circumstances. Ballard brings Parker back into this more formal law enforcement setting, but the nagging conflict clearly itches at her, giving the series a welcome sense of edge and interrogation (even if some of its resolutions are, in service of keeping the show running, a little politically confusing). Taylor gives a remarkable performance through the 10-episode first season; you may have seen her in recurring roles on “Abbott Elementary” and “Shrinking,” but I hope this leading role gives her a well-deserved breakthrough.
As for Q herself, I’m always happy to see her on screen. I find her to be an underrated performer, especially in the action-thriller space that “Ballard” tends to occupy. Like the show itself, she seems to have a keen understanding of what the genre requires, but digs a little deeper and plays everything a little smarter.
In her hands, author Michael Connelly’s detective Renée Ballard is smart, intelligent, intuitive, and in some of the show’s best moments, surprisingly vulnerable. Sometimes Q plays the most functional screenplay sequences — think “reading forensic evidence off a computer” — with a hint of stiffness, but by and large, this performance ranks among her best. In fact, it might be the first project that actually gives her the room to do what she’s capable of.
All credit, then, to the creative team led by developers and showrunners Michael Alaimo and Kendall Sherwood, TV vets who worked on shows like “The Closer” and “Major Crimes”. Their ability to juggle the logic puzzles and machinations of their plottings with character deepenings is striking. Every new detail we learn about each character — whether Ballard’s connection to her late father, Lynch’s romantic partner (the always welcome Jim Rash), or the vulnerability of steely characters like Rawls and Martina (Michael Mosely and Victoria Moroles, both excellent) — is a welcome investment. By the end of this season, I was gasping and emotional at certain narrative moves, thanks to the show’s willingness to give its human elements breath and breadth.
At a grander level, “Ballard” dives headfirst into issues of systemic racism, corruption, sexual assault and the patriarchy, all as it relates to the criminal justice complex. I appreciated these complications and thought it had more substantial things to say about them than your average policier; frankly, the fact that it took any step further other than a broadly-swathed gesture to appeal to a more enlightened 21st-century viewer is welcome.
I could also tell the actors appreciated these moments; just about every cast member is given a few different scenes to play the intense, person-to-person drama that comes with such loaded topics (including its guest stars). Some of the story moves made with these hot-button issues can feel a little too convenient in relation to the viscerality of the issues, flattening their power just a little. But frankly, I’d take a touch of narrative convenience or philosophical hand-waving over obstinate neutrality or non-engagement. I’m a progressively-minded person who has always loved the cop genre, even as I continue to understand its problematic elements, and it was endlessly intriguing and helpful to see a show talk about that gulf directly.
Watching “Ballard,” I was constantly reminded of a particularly vulgar phrase from Chef Gordon Ramsey that has become something of a meme: “Finally, some good f—king food.” The last Prime Video cop drama I reviewed was so perfunctory and insipid, it made me wonder if any cop drama — if any television show! — was ever any good. “Ballard” answers that with a resounding, unique, intoxicating “yes.” It’s an uncommonly great potboiler with something for everyone.
“Ballard” premieres Wednesday, July 9, on Prime Video.
