​

9-1-1: Nashville just saw its series premiere, marking the second spinoff of the franchise. Luckily, 9-1-1: Lone Star already saw its series conclusion, because the number of emergency calls we’d probably need to make for anyone watching both shows back to back would black out the power grid.

Set in Music City, where I live, I had to see what the hype was about, even though I never watched the flagship series and only took an equally unsatisfying passing glance at the recently-cancelled Texas version. I sometimes love the predictability of a good procedural drama, so I figured I’d give it a go. My plan was to give the back catalog some serious consideration if the new series had anything going for it.

It doesn’t, so I won’t.

Blood Is Thicker Than Moonshine

9-1-1: Nashville 2025
9-1-1: Nashville 2025

Aiming to glorify emergency responders with a cowboy twist, 9-1-1: Nashville will make you believe everyone in the city owns a pair of snakeskin boots and keeps a dusty old Martin acoustic in the attic, just in case they’re inspired to write the next generation-defining smash hit single about trucks. What we actually get is a parade of clichés led by NCIS: LA alum, Chris O’Donnell.

O’Donnell’s Captain Don Hart is a veteran firefighter who, in his youth, couldn’t keep his firehose 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 coincidentally performs for bachelorette parties dressed in a sexy firefighter costume. Don’s wife, Blythe (Jessica Capshaw), already knew about the affair and the resulting baby, and has somehow made peace with it. Their marriage is stronger than ever.

Ryan, a rodeo rider who also works double shifts at Station 113, is blindsided by this revelation, setting up a season-long father-son dynamic that will surely put a significant strain on their relationship.

This is a show about first responders.

Genre Confusion Like No Other

bb8fccf557abc7522ff90bcbc9406f60

Going into 9-1-1: Nashville, I expected action. Instead, most of the premiere revolves around family drama. Between endless monologues about trust and togetherness while sitting on park benches, dispatcher Cammie Raleigh (Kimberly Williams-Paisley) occasionally answers emergency calls and delivers the flattest disaster rundowns imaginable. Keeping calm during heightened situations is part of the job, sure, but Cammie sounds like she’s halfway through a benzo bender, completely devoid of any sense urgency.

Between the sporadic emergencies, some of which actually look decent when we’re not seeing 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 elite songwriters, needs surgery to remove vocal cord polyps. She manipulates Blue, still resentful that Don stayed with Blythe, leaving her to raise her son alone. Don offers Blue a job to ease his guilt, unaware Dixie is scheming for revenge.

This is a show about first responders.

Streaming 9-1-1: Nashville

After watching its introductory episode, which is supposed to pique viewer interest, I can’t figure out who 9-1-1: Nashville is actually for. There’s too much melodrama for it to be an action series, yet enough action to somehow make it something more than a soap opera. The cast stays oddly calm through every crisis, robbing the show of any tension during the disaster sequences. The exposition dump sets up a messy multigenerational family feud that’s bound to get even more complicated as the season continues.

One thing the show nails, though: its depiction of Broadway bachelorette parties is painfully accurate. I needed the reminder to avoid going downtown unless I want to be flattened by an unwholesome gaggle of drunk bridesmaids, stomping their booted legs on a pedal pub while I’m just trying to get to an open mic.

Don’t watch this show. It’s awful.

9-1-1: Nashville is an ABC series, and you can stream new episodes on Hulu upon their release.