Reacher spin-off Neagley will appeal to anyone who likes their action how they like their TV heroes: Righteous

Neagley’s investigation into what happened to her old friend leads her to a religious cult led by the creepy Lawrence Cole (Damon Herriman), who we quickly learn is using his most vulnerable followers as experiments for a new psychological drug, taking money from men in suits and lab coats to provide subjects. The writers of Neagley posit a world in which a pharmaceutical company evades that tricky thing called human drug testing by partnering with a man who has access to lost souls who might not be missed. It might not be ripped from the pages of a Child novel, but it’s still a mystery that fits the mold of Jack Reacher’s literary and TV universes: a story of corruption that destroys everyday people who need heroes like Reacher and Frances Neagley to save them. In these worlds, villains are almost always representatives for broken systems. 

Reacher is basically a show about “a big man fighting for little men”; its spin-off’s protagonist more often sees herself reflected in the people she’s fighting for. Make no mistake: Neagley still hands out plenty of beatdowns, even if one wishes that Santora and company allowed Sten more opportunities to show off her skill with stuff like fight choreography. But the writers connect Neagley’s righteous fury over people being used as lab rats to an old psychic wound, suggesting that she too could fall victim to a cult that promises healing—or even just a prescription that does the same. We learn that Neagley can’t be touched—a fear called haphephobia—which her dying father always told her she had since birth. When she finds photos with others making contact with her that would send her reeling today, she learns that dad isn’t being honest. It’s a subplot that allows Sten some emotional beats that Neagley’s parent show doesn’t always embrace, and she nails them.

The success of a show like this relies heavily on the quality of its seasonal supporting players—casting interesting ensemble players who elevate the title character in an interesting way without stealing focus. Neagley’s main partner in busting heads this go-round is a Chicago cop named Hudson Riley (Greyston Holt), who gets a bit of an undeveloped subplot about his own family drama but is mostly there to be an effective expository device for the writers while he and Neagley trace the clues that lead them to the cult and its puppet masters. Holt is a nice square-jawed counter to Sten’s more instinctive being, giving the show balance at its center. Their dynamic is not quite oil-and-water, but they’re just distinct enough that it never feels like the writers are trying to steal focus from their female lead with a male one who’s equally badass.

The writers find more personality on the edges of Neagley, and not just in Herriman’s unhinged variation on Jim Jones. Jasper Jones works as Keno, a troubled kid who ends up being Neagley and Holt’s undercover agent in the cult. As he uncovers what’s really happening with the drug trials, Jones finds the intersection of fear and purpose. Of course, he’s as terrified as anyone would be after finding an operation that uses people up and tosses them out with the trash, but he’s also intent on doing something about it. Meanwhile, Adeline Rudolph proves an unexpected asset as Renee, a colleague at Neagley’s private investigation agency who gets roped into the case.

At first,  Renne is played as a bit of a stuck-up caricature. but by the end of the season, Rudolph and the writers make her one of Neagley’s most likable characters.  As the onscreen world occupied by Jack Reacher and Frances Neagley grows larger, its roster of people who discover they too can be unexpected justice warriors gains another member. That’s just the type of comfort food storytelling:  hope for a world in which not only do the bad guys lose but the good guys overcome their personal traumas as they defeat evil.