I’m a middle-aged man of a certain age, so I’m demographically obligated to like Prime Video’s long-running Bosch (and Bosch: Legacy) series. Morally ambiguous cop (and then morally ambiguous retired cop) methodically investigates grisly crimes, occasionally pissing off his superiors by refusing to play by the book, which is ironic, considering how often cops bend the rules for themselves, not justice. The two shows ran for a combined 10 seasons and likely could’ve gone another 10, if not for Prime Video cutting costs as salaries went up.
The new spin-off, Ballard (premiering on Prime Video on Wednesday, July 9), seems at first like another budget-conscious attempt to keep the Bosch universe alive — and it is — but it’s also an unexpectedly terrific stand-alone series that arguably improves upon the original.
Renée Ballard, who inhabits the same Michael Connelly universe as Bosch and Mickey Haller (though thanks to rights issues, don’t expect crossovers with Haller’s The Lincoln Lawyer on Netflix), made her literary debut in 2017 and her TV debut via a backdoor pilot at the end of Bosch: Legacy earlier this year. Played by Maggie Q, Ballard shares Bosch’s obsession with justice but comes with a stronger moral compass. She’s also a rule follower, and that’s what gets her in trouble. After a sexual assault complaint she files against her partner Robert Olivas (Ricardo Chavira) is buried, Ballard is quietly sidelined and assigned to run a cold-case unit filled with LAPD castoffs and civilian volunteers.
Think of it as a Los Angeles version of Dept. Q, only the prickly, traumatized lead has been swapped for an empathetic boss who genuinely gives a sh*t. Ballard assembles a ragtag team of broken toys: her old partner Thomas Laffont (John Carroll Lynch), a retired detective who’d rather solve crimes than spend all day with his sweet, exhausting husband (Jim Rash); Samira Parker (Courtney Taylor), a former cop disillusioned by the department; Ted Rawls (Michael Mosley), a rich guy running a private security firm who joins the team for a sense of purpose; Colleen Hatteras (Rebecca Field), a spiritualist tech geek into psychic energy and weird vibes; and Martina Castro (Victoria Moroles), a college intern in it for the credit and, maybe, the calling.
The ensemble is sharply drawn by creators Michael Alaimo (The Closer) and Julissa Castillo (Sunny), with overlapping storylines that deepen the mystery without losing focus. A city councilman, Jake Pearlman, who helped fund the unit, pressures Ballard to solve his sister’s years-old cold case — a case that soon unspools into a wider investigation involving a serial killer. Meanwhile, per the Connelly playbook, there are rot-from-within elements in the LAPD that Ballard and Parker try to root out without ending up dead or discredited.
And it’s exactly the kind of detective series I love: one where viewers get so immersed in the case they begin to speak its language. It’s methodical and layered, all about tugging at the right thread until something gives. You follow the clues, you hit dead ends, you get back up and try again. And slowly, brick by brick, the killer’s identity starts to take shape.
You don’t need to know anything about Bosch to enjoy Ballard. Titus Welliver shows up briefly to lend a hand, but his backstory is unnecessary. A few familiar faces also make blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameos — more fan service than plot necessity.
It’s a solid detective show. Michael Connelly rarely misses, and in Renée Ballard, he’s crafted another engrossing lead brought to life by Maggie Q, who gives Ballard a cooler, more subdued, but no less badass energy than her turn in Nikita.
For Fans Of: Bosch, Dept. Q, Lincoln Lawyer, Reacher, and The Killing.