There’s a reason some shows become background noise, and others become ritual. NCIS, now in its 23rd season, has managed to be both. It’s a comfort watch, a character drama, a crime procedural, and, somehow, still a ratings and streaming force in an era where even younger, louder franchises burn out fast. On Paramount+, where legacy library viewing drives real value, few titles have proved as durable.
That durability — and consistent ratings, according to FlixPatrol — is the result of a series built to evolve without losing its center. Cast members leave as others step in; people like Gibbs exit as Alden Parker arrives. NCIS has managed, over the years, to get the rhythms right and keep its audience.
Advertisement
‘NCIS’ Built a Formula That Still Works
Rocky Carroll in NCIS’ 500th episodeImage via CBS
If by now, viewers don’t know about NCIS, a team of agents with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service investigates crimes tied to the Navy and Marine Corps, such as murders, espionage, terrorism, cybercrime, and internal corruption. Some cases are ripped from the pages of military bureaucracy; others edge toward political thriller territory. Despite similar shows doing the same, what keeps NCIS alive after more than two decades isn’t the cases alone.
Mark Harmon’s Gibbs gave the show its steel as Michael Weatherly’s DiNozzo brought swagger and comic timing. Pauley Perrette’s Abby made forensic science feel punk while David McCallum gave the series soul. Then there were later additions that didn’t imitate what came before, but added a different flair to the series. For instance, Gary Cole wisely didn’t play Parker as Gibbs 2.0. Wilmer Valderrama, Katrina Law, Sean Murray, Brian Dietzen, Diona Reasonover — the current team works because the show lets new rhythms form.
Advertisement
Collider Exclusive · Taylor Sheridan Universe Quiz Which Taylor Sheridan Show Do You Belong In? Yellowstone · Landman · Tulsa King · Mayor of Kingstown
Advertisement
Four worlds. All of them brutal, complicated, and built on power, loyalty, and the price of survival. Taylor Sheridan doesn’t write heroes — he writes people who do what they have to do and live with the cost. Ten questions will reveal which one of his worlds you were made for.
🤠Yellowstone
🛢️Landman
👑Tulsa King
⚖️Mayor of Kingstown
Advertisement
01
Advertisement
Where does your power come from? In Sheridan’s world, everyone has leverage. The question is what kind.
02
Advertisement
Who do you put first, no matter what? Loyalty in Sheridan’s universe is always absolute — and always costly.
03
Advertisement
Someone crosses a line. How do you respond? Every Sheridan protagonist has a line. What matters is what happens after it’s crossed.
04
Advertisement
Where do you feel most in your element? Sheridan’s worlds are as much about place as they are about people.
05
Advertisement
How do you feel about operating in the grey? Nobody in a Sheridan show has clean hands. The question is how they carry the dirt.
06
Advertisement
What are you actually fighting to hold onto? Every Sheridan character is fighting a war. The real question is what they’re defending.
07
Advertisement
How do you lead? Authority in Sheridan’s world is never given — it’s established, maintained, and constantly tested.
08
Advertisement
Someone new arrives and tries to change how things work. Your reaction? Every Sheridan show has an outsider disrupting an established order. Sometimes that outsider is you.
09
Advertisement
What has your position cost you? Nobody gets to where these characters are without paying for it. The bill is always personal.
10
Advertisement
When it’s over, what do you want people to say? Sheridan’s characters all know the ending is coming. The question is what they leave behind.
Sheridan Has Spoken You Belong In…
Advertisement
The show that claimed the most of your answers is the world you were built for. If two tied, both are shown — you’re complicated enough to straddle two Sheridan universes.
🤠 Yellowstone
Advertisement
🛢️ Landman
👑 Tulsa King
⚖️ Mayor of Kingstown
Advertisement
You are a Dutton — or you might as well be. You understand that some things are worth protecting at any cost, and that the modern world’s indifference to history, to land, to legacy, is not something you’re willing to accept quietly. You lead from the front, you carry your family’s weight without complaint, and when someone threatens what’s yours, you don’t escalate — you finish it. You’re not cruel. But you are absolute. In Yellowstone’s world, that combination of ferocity and loyalty doesn’t make you a villain. It makes you the only thing standing between everything that matters and everyone who wants to take it.
You thrive in the chaos of high-stakes negotiation, where the money is enormous, the margins are thin, and the wrong word in the wrong room can cost everyone everything. You’re a fixer — the person called when a situation is already on fire and needs someone with the nerve to walk into it. West Texas oil country rewards exactly what you are: sharp, adaptable, unsentimental, and absolutely clear-eyed about what people want and what they’ll do to get it. You’re not naive enough to think this world is fair. You’re smart enough to be the one deciding who it’s fair to.
Advertisement
You are a Dwight Manfredi — someone who has served their time, paid their dues, and arrived somewhere unexpected with nothing but their reputation and their wits. You adapt without losing yourself. You build loyalty through respect rather than fear, though you’re not above reminding people that the two aren’t mutually exclusive. Tulsa King is for people who are still standing when everyone assumed they’d be finished — who find, in an unfamiliar place, that they’re more capable than the world gave them credit for. You don’t need a throne. You build one, wherever you happen to land.
You carry the weight of a system that is broken by design, and you do it anyway — because someone has to, and because you’re the only one positioned to do it without the whole thing collapsing. Mike McLusky’s world is for people who are comfortable operating where there are no good options, only less catastrophic ones. You speak every language: law enforcement, criminal, political, human. That fluency makes you invaluable and it makes you a target. You’ve made your peace with both. Mayor of Kingstown belongs to people who understand that keeping the peace is not the same as being at peace — and who do the job regardless.
Advertisement
NCIS has always understood something many procedurals miss, which is that formula only works when it has texture. That’s why the show makes room for grief, running jokes, office rituals, old wounds, even absurd little signatures like Gibbs’ head slaps and those famous black-and-white “phoof” transitions. Tends to stick.
Advertisement
Where To Start With ‘NCIS’ if You’ve Never Watched
Twenty-three seasons can look intimidating, but one would beg to differ. Start at the beginning if you want the full Gibbs era; early NCIS has a crackling energy, and seasons two through nine are widely considered a golden run for good reason. Episodes like “Kill Ari,” “Shiva,” and “Twilight” still hit just right.
Alternatively, you can start with season 19 and the Parker era because it functions, in many ways, as a soft reset, and you’ll catch up easily. A secret third option is to do what many viewers do (i.e., drop into standout episodes and let the show pull you along).
Advertisement
There’s also a misconception that NCIS is only for procedural devotees or older broadcast loyalists, which also undersells what the show does well. At its best, this is an ensemble drama disguised as acase-of-the-week machine. The investigations pull you in, and the relationships keep you around. Frankly, there’s pleasure in watching a show so comfortable in its own skin.
You must be logged in to post a comment Login