CIA

The Machinery of Secrets

I’ve always had a bit of a love-hate thing with the Dick Wolf factory. You know exactly what you’re getting, but that predictability can start to feel like a sedative. His newest effort for CBS, *CIA*, doesn’t try to break any molds; it barely leaves a scratch. Spun off from the massive *FBI* franchise, this 2026 series arrives with the baggage of a thousand procedurals already behind it. We’re basically in *Lethal Weapon* territory here, just with sharper suits and fewer punchlines. Robert Lloyd at the LA Times was right to call it "conservative entertainment" that leans on old wins and shows an America that’s more scared than scary. He isn't wrong. But even with my usual allergy to the formula, I found myself hooked by the rhythm of this specific odd-couple setup.



The setup is about as standard as it gets. You take a loose-cannon CIA operative—Colin Glass—and pair him with a rigid, by-the-book partner like FBI Agent Bill Goodman. They’re shoved into a joint fusion cell in New York, tasked with hunting down domestic threats and stolen tech. Showrunner Mike Weiss and creators Wolf and David Hudgins aren’t trying to reinvent the wheel here; they’re just polishing the rims. What actually keeps the pilot from getting bogged down in its own setup is the physical chemistry and contrast between the two leads.

Tom Ellis plays Colin by basically importing that devilish charm that kept *Lucifer* running for years, but without the supernatural safety net, he feels a lot more grounded. Just watch how he occupies the screen—leaning in doorways or slinking into chairs like he’s already mapped out the room. He’s loose. Meanwhile, Nick Gehlfuss is wound so tight he looks like he might snap. If you remember him as the messy Dr. Halstead on *Chicago Med*, his turn as Goodman is a jarring, effective shift. He holds his shoulders at this stiff, defensive angle that just screams institutional burnout. He’s the straight man, but Gehlfuss gives the role a jittery anxiety that makes it feel real.



There’s a scene in the premiere that really captures the show's specific brand of absurdity. Colin has to meet an informant, and of course, the meeting happens in a steam-filled sauna. Ellis is standing there in nothing but a towel, radiating confidence, while the camera lingers just long enough to remind everyone he’s the star. But the vibe shifts when Bill gets involved. The framing gets tighter, the background hiss of the sauna drops out, and the focus turns to the FBI agent’s clipped, urgent attempt to control his partner. It’s ridiculous—real intel work is mostly paperwork, not steam baths—but it works because the actors don’t play it for laughs. They treat the pulp with total sincerity.

It helps that the story actually has a bit of a hidden hook. By the end of the first episode, the standard ticking-clock plot—a stolen supersonic weapon—makes way for a quieter, much more interesting conflict. Bill isn’t just there as a liaison; he’s hunting a mole, and the prime suspect might be the guy sitting right across from him. Whether you see that as a cool twist or just a procedural gimmick probably depends on your tolerance for network TV. I’m not sure they can keep that tension going for a full season. The format usually demands a weekly reset, which almost always kills off any real sense of serialized paranoia.



Maybe that comfort is the whole point. We don't really watch these shows to have our worldview challenged; we watch them to see a mess get cleaned up before the last commercial break. *CIA* does exactly what it was built to do. It’s a polished, well-oiled machine that works because of the chemistry between two guys trying to share a very small workspace. I don’t know if I’ll stay for the long haul, but for now, the gears are turning smoothly enough to keep me watching.