The Rookie

3 out of 5

Created by: Alexi Hawley

covers season 1

A generally solid ensemble cast and some well-balanced writing helps to elevate an otherwise generic procedural-lite.

…But let’s be honest: Nathan Fillion’s face was plastered over the promo material for this, and the show’s title is singular, despite it focusing on three first year rookies on the L.A.P.D., and so that’s who we’re here for, and Fillion – all endearing dumb-founded looks and genuine seeming smiles and ability to intimate common-man contemplations – delivers.  As John Nolan, L.A.P.D.’s oldest rookie, Fillion’s character takes a lot of shit from his captain, training officer, and teammates, but stands proud and tall on a believable sense of morality and motivation, finding his way in a satisfying career pursuit post a divorce.  The Rookie’s writers smartly allow Nolan to fail, but not dumbly so – his intelligence and awareness remains intact throughout – while getting moments to shine without completely outstepping his fellow rookies.

Similarly, those other rooks – Jackson West (Titus Makin) and Lucy Chen (Melissa O’Neil) – get generally well-rounded personalities and incidents to tackle, and share almost equal screentime with Nolan, and their respective training officers.

As a comedy-drama, The Rookie tends to err toward a more mirthful mood, but it’s not without occasional stakes to ground this in real policework: characters get hired, fired, and dispatched, and while we’re not wallowing in PTSD every episode, the show is mindful to keep past events in mind and touch on their effects on the force and individualities.  And by including the rookie / training officer dynamic, we can have our cookie-cutter characters – the hard ass training officer, the stoic training officer – and then flesh out those same roles when the t.o.’s are gathered without their rooks.  The show is nonetheless still predictable, though, with case-of-the-weeks teaching us some type of stand-for-your-principles lesson by the end of the hour, and relationship / friendship drama fiddled with when needed but sidelined into easily processed subplots.  And not every character fares well in an ensemble: Melissa O’Neil, so much better suited to a leadership-type persona on Dark Matter, flits too fleetingly between over-confidence and crippling doubt, and Titus Makin’s straight-laced character doesn’t give him an opportunity to really endear him to the viewer.  So, uh, maybe Fillion does end up getting all the good bits.

The positives far outweigh the criticisms, though – which are mostly just that the show is generic – offering up an hour’s worth a enjoyable distraction.