By Jeanni Ritchie
The day after 9-1-1: Nashville premiered, I woke up to a slew of criticism across social media. Viewers hated it, and deemed it unrealistic and laughable.
I was disappointed- it was the one new drama I’d planned to invest in. I wasn’t even going to watch the pilot I’d recorded.
But when they started pointing out the inaccuracies of Nashville, I realized the criticism all came from local Tennesseans. That’s when I remembered how much I hate shows set in Louisiana, because they all make us look like cornbread in a Camry.
I gave 9-1-1: Nashville a shot. Besides, I like to zig when others zag.
Jumping to my verdict, I loved it and am already fully invested in the lives of patriarch and veteran firefighter Don (Chris O’Donnell) whose sons, Blue (Hunter McVey) and Ryan Hart (Michael Provost), serve Nashville alongside him.
LeAnn Rimes, as the fiery Dixie, absolutely steals every scene she’s in. It was good to see her back on the screen again, along with Jessica Capshaw and Kimberly Williams-Paisley.
I will give the detractors one small caveat: that kite-flying scene was rather ridiculous. But the instantly meme-worthy line spoken to the 9-1-1 dispatcher in an earlier scene- there are bachelorettes bleeding all over Broadway– was so iconic that Jenny Nashville (Music City Rollin Jamboree) has vowed to incorporate it into her comedy bus tour.
I don’t know what drew me in first: the Southern charm, the mix of action and heart, or the incredibly hot stripper-turned-firefighter Blue (aka Captain Smokeshow). Maybe it was just seeing places I’ve come to know so well — from Bridgestone Arena to Centennial Park. Whatever it is, this spin-off hits all the right notes.
A special treat was guest star Kane Brown, who played himself with a warmth that required no acting. Brown is genuine, down-to-earth and one of the most popular country stars in the current line-up.
Critics may call 9-1-1: Nashville over-the-top, but that’s half the fun. The infamous bachelorette pedal-tavern accident is pure camp in the best way. I can almost picture the showrunner and writers in a room dreaming up a morbid just desserts scene for the giggling gaggle of girls who overtake Broadway at all hours of the day and night.
9-1-1: Nashville isn’t pretending to be a documentary — it’s a love letter to the city’s music, grit, and wild personality.
By the time the tornado sequence hit in the final moments — while an actual storm thundered outside my own window — I was completely pulled in. My dog was shaking against me, the rain was pelting the windows, and I couldn’t have scripted a more immersive viewing experience if I tried.
If the pilot is any indication, 9-1-1: Nashville is poised to become my new favorite show: a little ridiculous, completely entertaining, and bursting with Southern flair in the city I like to call the “NYC of the South.”
Jeanni Ritchie is a freelance writer and wannabe pop culture critic who thinks the world can use a lot less drama and a little more camp. She can be reached at jeanniritchie54@gmail.com.
