I didn’t quite love the first season of the “Jack Ryan” television series, but I still really, really liked it. It’s a decent adaptation of Tom Clancy’s source material, albeit a very loose one. (And that’s just fine — we already have a number of excellent films that closely adapt the events of the books; we don’t need another methodical retread of the author’s novels.) I’d rate this an 8 out of 10.
There are some narrative weaknesses, particularly in the show’s failure to sustain tension between its episodes. And there are some surprise plot developments that the show telegraphed a bit obviously. (I usually don’t pick up on these things, but even I saw the clues.) There is also a subplot involving a drone operator that is largely unnecessary … some viewers will find it interesting while others will not.
“Jack Ryan” also suffers just a little in comparison with the Audience network’s superior “Condor” (2018). That excellent show covered much of the same subject matter, with its own ordinary CIA-analyst thrust into deadly game with terrorists. Season 1 of “Condor” was better written, boasted an amazing cast, and was far more frightening.
John Krasinski does a good job as the title character. I’ve always thought that this character would be tough for an actor to play, simply because he is so consistently nondescript. (The whole character concept is that he usually appears to be an especially bright but otherwise ordinary civil servant … his background as a United States Marine and his patriotism and courage aren’t things that he advertises.) Krasiniski’s Ryan is closer to that of the books than the version we see in the Harrison Ford films. I love Ford as much as the next person, but his interpretation of the character was too a bit too meek and diffident for me. That wasn’t quite the Jack Ryan that Clancy created.
What’s strange about the show is that it truly shines when deviates widely from the source materiel — especially in the character of Jim Greer. He is played to perfection here by Wendell Pierce, and he is no longer the gentle, wizened father figure that we saw in his counterpart from the books and movies. Nor is he a minor character — Pierce’s Greer is a gruff, pissy operations man fresh off of an ominous and unfair demotion, who shoots and runs right alongside Ryan when the bad guys attack. It sounds preposterously stupid. But … it works — largely, I think, because of Pierce’s talent. He’s a good enough actor to sell the idea and he invests Greer with a kind of perpetually disgruntled, antisocial charm. I honestly would continue watching this show if it focused on him as the main character.