Good Cop/Bad Cop

Its special sauce — the thing that elevates it beyond the kind of algorithmic programming you might stumble onto and then forget about, and into the sort of reliable escape you might turn into a weekly habit — is the chemistry of its lead cast.

While “Good Cop/Bad Cop” isn’t the most memorable show in the world, Meester and Cook’s chemistry and charm are vibrant enough to sustain the show across several seasons.

[Leighton Meester] is a deft comedian who elevates what would have been a surprisingly smart comedy anyway. .... The dialogue comes dangerously close to being sophisticated, and the cases Henry and Lou venture into seem like fresh territory.

Some of the jokes — Henry's bluntness and hyperfixating (which read more like autistic coding than anything else in 2025), punchlines about Bradley's weight, or how difficult it is to pronounce Szczepkowski's name — feel like the product of another decade. These types of jokes luckily taper off as the season goes, fortunately letting the cast rely on their natural charms and chemistry with one another rather than forced jokes that feel recycled from days of CW past.

It’s a silly-fun show that, like its small-town police force, doesn’t have the resources to grapple with such weighty issues, so it does it’s best to avoid them. As Lou and Henry team up for new cases every week, “Good Cop/Bad Cop” overcomes its meager production budget by leaning on lighthearted vibes.

There’s sometimes enough in Good Cop/Bad Cop to set it aside from everything else in its range, but watching the episodes feels, after a little while, more passive than it should. Most of the jokes are forecast long in advance, the playful dialogue between characters feels rote, and the interpersonal relationships are nothing we haven’t seen before.