Bosch spin-off Ballard mostly does its predecessor proud

Less than five minutes into Ballard‘s premiere, someone tells Renee Ballard (Maggie Q) that most cops would take the day off after spending the previous night chasing a bad guy through Los Angeles traffic and into a dry cleaner where she was almost killed. “You’re still getting to know me,” Renee coolly retorts. With this brief exchange, the series wastes no time setting up its tenacious, overworked, no-nonsense protagonist. These traits feel similar to Harry Bosch (Titus Welliver), who led his own procedural on Prime Video for seven seasons, not to mention a spin-off. Harry, who became acquainted with Renee at the end of Bosch: Legacy earlier this year, infrequently pops up to assist her here, but this is very much the Ballard show. And, like its predecessors, it’s a serviceable adaptation of a pulpy airport read. 

Speaking of, watching this show is akin to flipping through a gritty but easily digestible crime book on a flight, specifically, the ones written by Michael Connelly, the mind behind the two fictional investigators. Unfortunately, stretching 400 or so pages of plot into 10 45-minute installments makes the show start to feel dull, leaving you wanting to skip directly to the (enjoyable) end. Ballard weathers this monotony with a couple of effective performers and a central case that is predictable yet engrossing. The narrative structure isn’t unlike Bosch or other generic detective dramas led by white dudes on the streamer (Jack Ryan, Reacher, The Terminal List, to name a few). But the distinguishing factor with this series is how it follows (and deftly handles) the stories of its two female leads of color. 

The show kicks off with Renee and her underfunded cold-case unit, which comprises mostly civilian volunteers and an intern, welcoming latest arrival Samira Parker (Courtney Taylor). Renee and Samira, a former cop, form an instant friendship because of their commonalities in how poorly they’ve been treated by an institution they’ve devoted their careers to. Upon realizing just how rampant corruption is among their colleagues, they decide to take action and immediately become targets. They also share an enemy in Samira’s deceitful old partner (played by Desperate Housewives‘ Ricardo Chavira), who has a rough past with Renee. (Cue the obvious references to an incident between them that led to her demotion from homicide division to the building’s basement that houses the cold-case unit.) The repeated reminders that Renee and Samira are up against powerful folks who don’t take them seriously are tedious, however. These superiors start to sound the same, with snide and sexist remarks aplenty. 

Thankfully, Ballard is better at thoughtfully exploring how the two women navigate these circumstances by leaning on each other. Their poignant conversations about their circumstances and not letting their past define them elevate their expected tortured-detective archetypes. Q is no stranger to playing characters who can kick ass and take names, as seen in Nikita and Designated Survivor. So she’s nicely cast as the tough but affecting team leader. Meanwhile, Abbott Elementary‘s Taylor is a scene-stealing revelation, particularly in a pivotal installment in which Samira comes to terms with a disturbing turn of events.