There are cultural phenomena, and then there is Reacher, which is a show that somehow convinced an entire country that what America had been missing was a gigantic man walking into rooms and solving problems primarily by hitting people. After Tom Cruise’s brief, highly aerodynamic tenure as Jack Reacher, Amazon Prime Video handed the role to Alan Ritchson, who arrived at roughly the dimensions Lee Child had been describing all along. For the devoted novel fans, this was less a casting decision than a restoration project. Sorry, Tom. You were terrific. You were also, depending on whom you ask, approximately three feet short of the Reacher family height requirement.
America took to Ritchson, and to Reacher, with the enthusiasm normally reserved for a new barbecue joint, a championship team, and a conspiracy that can be explained with a corkboard. The show has everything. It has bone-crunching violence, deadpan humor, elaborate criminal schemes, beautiful people behaving badly, and a hero who approaches social interaction with the warmth of a parking ticket. But somewhere along the way, another character began quietly stealing the show, which was Frances Neagley, played by Maria Sten.
Neagley is the sort of detective you want on your side and absolutely do not want standing across from you in a dark alley. She is smart, ferociously capable, emotionally guarded, and seemingly equipped with an internal operating system that translates every problem into, How many people need to be punched? She has been Reacher’s trusted ally and occasional partner in dismantling the sorts of elaborate schemes that make ordinary criminal enterprises look embarrassingly underfunded. So, naturally, the fans wanted more.
Enter Neagley, the Reacher spinoff that finally puts Frances in the center of her own storm. Reacher makes an appearance here and there, but this isn’t his show anymore. This is Neagley’s territory, and she has brought enough ammunition to redecorate the neighborhood. The series wastes little time establishing that Neagley doesn’t particularly believe in letting trauma get in the way of the job. In the first episode, she essentially treats emotional baggage the way most of us treat an unwanted email, which is to ignore it and move on. Unfortunately for her, the universe has other plans. The woman who has spent so much time keeping everything and everyone at arm’s length is about to discover that even the most disciplined loner can be ambushed by the past.
And this is where Neagley becomes more interesting than simply another excuse to watch Maria Sten throw people through furniture. There are twists, turns, conspiracies, and some terrific fight choreography, but the real pleasure is discovering the person beneath the armor. Why is Neagley so guarded? What does she actually care about? How much tenderness is hiding beneath all that tactical competence? And, perhaps most importantly, what happens when someone who has built her entire life around control finally loses some of it? Sten plays her beautifully. There is grace in the performance, but also grit. There is a dry, almost mischievous attitude beneath the stoicism. She understands that Neagley doesn’t need to announce that she’s tough. The character simply walks into a room and allows everyone else to figure it out.
That may be the secret to the show’s appeal. Neagley isn’t merely asking what happens when a badass gets her own series. It’s asking what happens when the badass finally has to look inward and discovers that the things she has spent years outrunning can hit harder than any hired gun. Also, she still gets to hit the hired guns. For Reacher fans, that’s probably the best of both worlds. Neagley is violent, funny, surprisingly tender, and propelled by a star who makes Frances Neagley feel like much more than a supporting character waiting for her next entrance. She has arrived. And, regrettably for everyone standing in her way, she brought the good shoes for kicking ass.
