A firefighter who can’t control his firehose leads to TV’s worst new series

by Robert Scocchi
| Published 7 seconds ago

9-1-1: Nashville I just watched its series premiere, marking the second installment of the series. Fortunately, 9-1-1: Lone Star I’ve already seen the series finale, because the number of emergency calls we would probably need to make to anyone watching both shows back to back could result in a power outage to the network.

In Music City, where I live, I had to see what the fuss was about, even though I’d never watched the main series and only had an equally unsatisfying passing look at the recently canceled Texas version. Sometimes I like the predictability of a good procedural drama, so I thought I’d give it a try. My plan was to give the back catalog some serious attention if the new series had anything going for it.

It doesn’t happen, so I won’t.

Blood is thicker than moonshine

Aimed to glorify emergency responders with a cowboy twist, 9-1-1: Nashville You’d have you believe that everyone in town owns a pair of snakeskin boots and keeps a dusty old Martin soundtrack in the attic, just in case they’re inspired to write the next generation-defining hit single about trucks. What we actually get is a parade of driven clichés NCIS: the alum, Chris O’Donnell.

Captain O’Donnell Don Hart is a veteran firefighter who in his youth could not keep a fire hose in his pants. He’s just revealed to his son Ryan (Michael Provost) that he has a long-lost brother named Blue (Hunter McVey), a male stripper who accidentally performs bachelor parties dressed as a sexy firefighter. Don’s wife, Blythe (Jessica Capshaw), already knew about the affair and the resulting child, and had somehow come to terms with it. Their marriage is stronger than ever.

Ryan, a rodeo rider who also works two shifts at Station 113, is surprised by this revelation, setting up a father-son dynamic throughout the season that will surely put a huge strain on their relationship.

This is a show about first responders.

The qualitative confusion is unparalleled

Log in 9-1-1: NashvilleI was expecting work. Instead, most of the premiere revolves around family drama. Between endless monologues about trust and teamwork while sitting on park benches, dispatcher Cami Raleigh (Kimberly Williams-Paisley) occasionally answers emergency calls and provides the greatest summary of disasters imaginable. Sure, staying calm during stressful situations is part of the job, but Cammie looks like she’s halfway through a benzo bender, completely devoid of any sense of urgency.

Between the various emergencies, some of which actually seem decent when we don’t see the same establishing shot of a tornado four times, we learn that Blue’s mother, Dixie (LeAnn Rimes), a bitter former backup singer for Nashville’s songwriter elite, needs surgery to remove vocal cord polyps. She manipulates Blue, still resentful of Don staying with Blythe, leaving her to raise her son alone. Don offers Blue a job to assuage his guilt, unaware that Dixie is planning revenge.

This is a show about first responders.

Streaming 9-1-1: Nashville

After watching the introductory episode, which is supposed to pique the viewer’s interest, I can’t figure out who 9-1-1: Nashville It actually is. There’s too much melodrama to qualify as an action series, yet enough to make it somehow more than just a TV series. The cast remains strangely calm during each crisis, robbing the show of any tension during the disaster sequences. The emptying of the show leads to a messy multi-generational family feud that’s bound to get more complicated as the season goes on.

But one thing the show has going for it is that its depiction of Broadway bachelorette parties is painfully accurate. I needed the reminder to avoid going downtown unless I wanted to be crushed by an unhealthy group of drunken bridesmaids, stomping their booted feet on a pedal bar while I tried to get to an open mic.

Don’t watch this show. It’s terrible.

9-1-1: Nashville It’s an ABC series, and you can stream new episodes on Hulu as they release.

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