Wild Cards review: The CW ushers in a new era
Vanessa Morgan and Giacomo Gianniotti's case-of-the-week procedural is certified laundry-folding TV

What will become of the CW? It’s the question on everyone’s (read: a niche community of genre-TV enjoyers) minds. The network that was once a haven for soapy teen television and schlocky superhero fare (non-derogatory!) has come under new ownership, and new ownership is taking the CW in a new direction. Beyond targeting an older demographic and importing shows from Canada, it was unclear what that direction would be. Now we have an answer in the form of the first original programming for the rebooted network, premiering January 17: Wild Cards, a new CW show with an old CW face.
That old face is Riverdale alum Vanessa Morgan, and her familiar presence is an extremely welcome way to transition the network from its wild old ways into a gentler, more approachable era. Morgan plays plucky con artist Max, who gets busted and finds herself in an unlikely partnership with police officer Cole Ellis (Giacomo Gianniotti), solving crimes as a form of probation. Grey’s Anatomy’s Gianniotti is perfectly serviceable as the handsome and disgruntled demoted cop trying to earn his way back to a desk. But it’s Morgan who carries the show with her megawatt charm, seeing her way through every sticky situation with upbeat optimism and clearly having a ball trying on all the different personas Max employs to solve cases. Her accent work within these different personas is not exactly Tatiana Maslany level, but she throws herself into these roles with enough aplomb that it’s nevertheless enjoyable to watch.
But the script leaves something to be desired and not just because of this unfortunate, immediately outdated classic rock joke: “We need to project a united front. You think Hall & Oates walk on stage separately?” The early episodes could have been cooked up via crime-show mad libs, and the way the mysteries resolve are not particularly imaginative, bordering on lazy. The dialogue can similarly tread into procedural paint-by-numbers territory, occasionally entering into the realm of cheesy: “Jake, Jake, Jake,” Ellis sighs to himself (and his cat) at one point, looking at a picture of a murder victim. “What the hell was going on with you?”
The supporting cast is mostly passable, though case-of-the-week guest stars vary in quality, and 90210’s Jason Priestly is a bit puzzling in his role as Max’s incarcerated con-artist father. (Again, he’s not helped by the script. Who can sell something as on the nose as, “You know our code. Screw the rich, but don’t steal from the poor”?) But the two network television veterans at the show’s center do a solid if not sparkling job of selling the show’s central odd-couple chemistry. They’re not exactly “Bones and that dude from Buffy,” or “Castle and that hot girl,” as Max compares them, but they’re turning out a perfunctory procedural partnership. Likewise, the character of Max is fun, but she isn’t as immediately iconic as some other crime-show con artists. She can spout as many pop-culture references as she likes, but she’s no Shawn Spencer from Psych.