A Critical Retrospective On 9-1-1 Season 9: Too Much, Too Fast, Too Empty
Now that some time has passed since the Season 9 finale of 9-1-1, I feel like we finally have enough distance to look back at the season with a little more clarity.
This is not me standing on a pedestal claiming my opinion is the only correct one. It is simply my personal reading as someone who loves television, studied media communication, has spent years analyzing TV structure, and also writes stories — not only fanfiction, but original fiction as well.
So this is my retrospective on what, in my opinion, did not work in Season 9.
And spoiler alert: for me, the problem was never the lack of ideas.
It was the lack of structure.
The Space Event Felt Too Big for Its Own Good
Let’s start from the beginning: the big opening event.
Space.
I’ll be honest — when I first heard that 9-1-1 was doing a space-related emergency, my reaction was basically: what does space have to do with this show?
To be fair, they did manage to make it work better than I expected. It wasn’t completely absurd once the episodes actually unfolded. But emotionally, it never reached the same impact as previous big events like the tsunami, the earthquake, the cruise disaster, or even the bee-nado.
And honestly, maybe that is the sign that the show needs to stop trying to outdo itself every year.
Bigger does not always mean better.
Sometimes a more grounded episode, like “Under Pressure” back in Season 2, works better because the emotional stakes feel closer, more human, more connected to the characters. The space arc had spectacle, but not enough emotional weight.
The two things that truly worked for me were Athena’s inner confrontation with her younger self — that moment of grief, acceptance, and survival — and Harry realizing he wanted to become a firefighter.
Those were powerful.
The rest felt more expensive than necessary.
“Día de los Muertos” Was the Real Masterpiece of the Season
I know many people point to “Mother’s Boy” as the standout episode of the season, but for me, the real masterpiece was “Día de los Muertos.”
That episode was simple, delicate, and incredibly powerful.
Yes, it centered heavily on Eddie, but not only on Eddie. It was really about death, grief, faith, and the ways different people try to survive loss.
Eddie faces death through his grandmother’s passing and through a rediscovery of faith. Buck, meanwhile, still cannot fully accept Bobby’s death, and through helping the man in the attic, he almost receives a message telling him to keep going.
Everything in that episode had space to breathe.
Every emotional beat made sense.
It did not feel rushed. It did not feel forced. It did not feel like the show was throwing ideas at the wall just to see what stuck.
It was one of the few episodes this season that felt complete.
And I’m honestly glad Ryan Guzman keeps naming it as his favorite episode of the season, because to me, it absolutely deserves that recognition.
Hen’s Illness Arc Was a Mess
Then we get into one of the biggest narrative problems of the season: Hen’s illness storyline.
I hated how this was handled.
Not because Hen does not deserve a major storyline. She absolutely does. But this felt like the writers realized they needed to give her something dramatic and pulled out a very serious illness without giving it the time, weight, or realism it needed.
It was too big of a storyline to be handled so quickly and so cleanly.
Then the show seemed to realize it had gone too far and tried to walk it back by saying, basically, yes, she has to manage it, yes, stress matters, no, she is not magically healed.
But it felt like hearing nails on glass.
The one scene I truly loved was between Hen and her mother, when her mother reads from Hen’s old teenage diary. At first, Hen thinks it is some generic motivational quote, but then she realizes those were her own words.
That scene worked.
The image of Hen reading her own younger self and almost embracing that younger version of herself was genuinely moving. It also revealed something from her past — being hit by a stray bullet as a teenager — that could have deserved its own deeper exploration.
But again, the problem was the same: good idea, rushed execution.
“War” Could Have Been So Much Better
The episode “War” had potential.
The idea of a split within the 118 after Hen and Chimney’s conflict could have worked. Chimney still learning how to be captain could have been a rich emotional arc. Hen feeling betrayed could have been powerful.
Instead, it felt like a forced “Civil War” parody in 9-1-1 clothing.
And I don’t think Athena inserting herself into a 118 internal conflict made sense in the way it was written. It felt like one of those moments where characters were moved around not because it made emotional sense, but because the writers wanted a certain scene to happen.
That is one of the recurring issues this season.
Characters often did things because the plot needed them to, not because their history naturally led them there.
Abigail Had Potential — Then the Show Deflated It
The Abigail arc intrigued me at first.
There was something interesting there: this young woman who seemed innocent, maybe damaged, maybe dangerous, maybe not. At first, it felt like she could become a real threat, maybe even a stalker figure, someone who used her apparent vulnerability to get close to Eddie.
I honestly thought they might go darker with it.
Instead, the whole thing became much simpler: her father misunderstood the situation, believed Eddie was taking advantage of her, and everything was resolved too easily.
Again: good setup, weak payoff.
The same goes for Alex. I found that character incredibly underwhelming. Her police unit felt almost fictional to me, maybe because I’m Italian and I have no reference for that kind of department, but it felt strange and artificial.
And while I know some people were excited because the actress had played opposite Ryan Guzman before in another show, that chemistry did not automatically transfer here. Same actors do not mean same dynamic.
In 9-1-1, those characters had nothing truly meaningful between them.
“Going Once, Going Twice” Was a Festival of Missed Opportunities
The bachelor auction episode should have been fun.
It should have been chaotic, playful, character-driven, full of unexpected pairings and new dynamics.
Instead?
Eddie buys himself.
Harry gets bought by his mother.
Ravi gets bought by May despite the fact that they had barely been built as anything before that moment.
Buck with the older ladies was probably the only part that actually made me smile.
This episode had so much potential and wasted almost all of it.
A bachelor auction episode should create dynamics. It should shake things up. It should make characters interact in ways they normally would not.
Instead, it felt like the show had all the ingredients for a fun old-school TV episode and somehow forgot to cook the meal.
The Nashville Crossover Worked — But Made Nashville Look Weak
The crossover with 9-1-1: Nashville worked much better than the old Lone Star crossover, at least for me.
The interactions were fun, the emergency games were enjoyable, and the chemistry between the two worlds was more interesting than I expected.
But there was one problem: Nashville looked painfully inferior to Los Angeles.
Sometimes Buck and Eddie looked at the Nashville team like they were wondering whether these people had attended the same academy. The scene with Blue and the windshield was especially telling. Eddie basically had to correct him on something Harry, a probie, would have known how to do.
And yes, maybe that was intentional.
But if it was, it made the Nashville side look weak.
Harry and Blue are both “new,” but Harry feels much more prepared, more trained, and more credible. Blue feels like he benefits from being someone’s son, while Harry actually had to earn his place.
That contrast was interesting, but also a little brutal.
“Mother’s Boy” Was Good, But I Wanted More
“Mother’s Boy” was objectively a beautiful episode.
It felt different from classic 9-1-1, almost like another show entirely. The desert setting, the small-town atmosphere, the strange isolation — all of that worked.
But I think my expectations were too high.
I wanted more air. More tension. More psychological pressure.
The episode reminded me of older television episodes where two characters would leave the usual setting and go on a road trip that becomes emotionally transformative. Those episodes often took two parts, giving everything time to breathe.
Here, again, everything felt condensed.
I also wish the insinuations about Buck and Eddie had been sharper, more uncomfortable, more openly bigoted. Not because I wanted ugliness for the sake of ugliness, but because the story seemed to flirt with that tension without fully committing to it.
The best part, for me, was Buck’s captivity.
Especially the scenes where he repeats, “I’m Derek.” Those moments showed psychological fragility in a disturbing and effective way. I read that Tim Minear allegedly wanted to cut those scenes and Oliver Stark fought to keep them, and I’m glad he did.
Because those scenes mattered.
The problem is: the show did not follow through.
Buck’s Addiction Arc Was Resolved Way Too Fast
Buck went through a kidnapping, psychological manipulation, physical pain, and then addiction.
That is not one trauma.
That is a pileup.
And yet the show handled it as if he just needed a few days, some support, and a group hug.
I loved seeing the 118 surround him. I loved the sense of family. I loved the final tribute to Bobby.
But narratively?
It was too fast.
When Eddie had PTSD after being shot, the show took time. It gave him an actual arc. It let the trauma breathe.
Buck’s trauma should have been given that same space.
Instead, the addiction becomes less about the psychological consequences of captivity and more about pain medication. Which could still work, but then the show needed to explore that properly.
It did not.
It brushed past it.
And that was disappointing.
“Where There’s Smoke” Was Another Standout
“Where There’s Smoke” was one of the few late-season episodes that truly worked for me.
I loved the structure.
We begin with people angry at the 118, and we don’t understand why. Then the episode takes us back through the emergency, allowing us to discover the truth alongside the characters.
I love when a story does not let me guess everything immediately.
When the case revealed itself as human trafficking, I was genuinely intrigued. I watch a lot of Mexican television, and one of my favorite shows is Señora Acero, so this is a subject I’ve seen explored many times by stories told much closer to that reality.
And at first, I thought 9-1-1 was handling it surprisingly well.
Unfortunately, the follow-up destroyed that promise.
“I Got You Babe” and the Theo Problem
Then came “I Got You Babe,” and suddenly the human trafficking storyline was pushed aside so the show could introduce Theo.
I know a lot of people were excited because they saw Theo as a way to connect Buck and Eddie even more, but to me, this season repeatedly put Buck and Eddie into situations designed to make the fandom scream without actually giving those scenes emotional depth or real narrative consequences.
That is one of my biggest issues.
There was hype, but not enough substance.
In older seasons, Buck and Eddie had scenes that felt deeper, more meaningful, more naturally intimate as friends. This season gave them more “fandom fuel” but less emotional weight.
And I think the show lost something because of that.
Theo’s introduction also bothered me because of how Cameron and Connor were handled. Killing them felt like a shortcut. It felt like the story said: we no longer need these characters, so let’s remove them and give the child back to Buck.
There were more interesting ways to make Buck a father.
This felt cheap.
And once again, after everything Buck had already endured this season, the emotional consequences were barely explored.
“Hearts and Flowers” Is Where Everything Fell Apart
The finale, for me, is where the season fully collapsed.
The way the human trafficking case was connected to the Bratva made absolutely no sense to me.
I’m sorry, but no.
The Russian mafia being involved in weapons, drugs, corruption? Sure.
But the trafficking of Mexican migrants? That is cartel territory. Narcos territory. That is a whole different criminal ecosystem.
Bringing in the Bratva felt random, like the writers pulled the biggest scary criminal organization they could think of and threw it into the story without asking whether it actually made sense.
Then there is Eddie’s stabbing.
Why?
The attacker was there for Athena.
Why stab Eddie?
He had nothing to do with the plan. It created an unnecessary alarm. It served no real plot function. If Eddie had simply been trapped in the elevator alive and uninjured, almost nothing about the finale would have changed.
Even Ryan Guzman himself said he was frustrated because, once again, he was cut off from the major event and isolated from the main action.
And honestly, I agree with him.
The stabbing looked dramatic, but it meant very little.
Ravi and May Still Do Not Work for Me
Ravi and May made even less sense by the finale.
There was no real build-up. No actual development. No emotional progression.
May buys him at an auction, they sleep together, she ignores him, he keeps reaching out, she treats him badly, and then after a time jump they are apparently together.
That is not a romance arc.
That is a plot shortcut.
And the worst part is that May, who used to be one of my favorite female characters, felt almost unrecognizable this season. When Ryan Murphy wrote her younger, she felt mature, thoughtful, structured. Now, as an adult, she often felt written like a messy teenager with no direction.
The nursing turn also felt too abrupt.
She studies law for years, has one bad job interview, gets arrested five minutes later, and suddenly realizes she wants to be a nurse.
There might be a good story in there.
But the show did not write it.
It just jumped to the conclusion.
Athena Becoming a Detective Needed More Build-Up
Athena becoming a detective makes sense in theory.
I never believed she would actually retire. That was never believable to me.
But the timing was strange.
If this change had come directly after Bobby’s death, I would have understood it more. If the season had built toward it slowly, showing Athena losing faith in patrol work or needing a different kind of purpose, it could have worked beautifully.
Instead, it arrives suddenly.
And that matters because we have seen Athena turn down advancement before. She explained why she belonged on the street. So if the show wants to reverse that, it needs to earn it.
For me, it did not.
Buck Getting Theo Also Feels Too Easy
The final scenes with Buck and Theo raised even more questions.
After years of showing, through Hen and Karen, how difficult foster care and adoption can be, the show suddenly makes Buck’s situation look shockingly simple.
Buck is single.
He works 24-hour shifts.
He was struggling with addiction very recently.
Who takes care of Theo when he works? Maddie and Chimney? They also have demanding jobs and children.
I’m not saying Buck cannot be a father.
I’m saying the story needs to respect the reality it already spent years building.
And right now, it does not.
The Two Things I Truly Loved This Season
Despite everything, there are two things I genuinely loved.
The first is Bobby’s presence.
The show did not forget him. His absence mattered. His memory shaped the season. That was beautiful, because too often in TV, once a character dies, the story moves on too quickly.
The second is Harry.
I know not everyone loved his arc, but I did. I loved seeing him discover his vocation. I loved watching him slowly move from being Athena and Bobby’s son to becoming his own person inside the 118.
Harry felt like one of the few truly fresh elements of the season.
And unlike many other arcs, his actually made sense.
The Real Issue: Too Much, Too Fast, Too Messy
For me, Season 9 had three major problems.
First: it ignored or contradicted emotional foundations built in earlier seasons.
May and Eddie should have some kind of relationship after working together at dispatch. May and Buck should have some emotional connection through Bobby. Some characters acted like strangers when history says they should not.
Second: everything was rushed.
Hen’s illness. Buck’s addiction. Abigail. Theo. Athena’s career shift. May’s career shift. Eddie’s stabbing.
These are storylines that could each carry multiple episodes, maybe even whole arcs. Instead, they were often resolved in one or two episodes.
Third: some plots simply did not make sense.
The Bratva and the migrant trafficking storyline. Eddie’s stabbing. The speed of Buck’s custody situation. May and Ravi becoming a couple without real development.
There was potential everywhere.
But potential is not enough if the writing does not support it.
Final Thoughts
Season 9 felt like a show at a breaking point.
Not because there were no good episodes. There were. “Día de los Muertos” and “Where There’s Smoke” are proof that this show can still deliver something powerful.
But the season as a whole felt rushed, uneven, and often emotionally inconsistent.
And the danger now is that 9-1-1 may start losing more than just characters. It may start losing trust.
Buddie fans are a huge part of the fandom, yes, but they are not the entire fandom. Some viewers already left after Bobby’s death. Others may have stepped back after this finale. And if Season 10 continues this way, I honestly worry it could become the last one.
The show can still recover.
But it needs to slow down.
It needs to stop throwing bait without payoff.
It needs to respect its own history.
And above all, it needs to remember that 9-1-1 was never great because it was huge.
It was great because it made the emergency personal.
And Season 9, more often than not, forgot that.