I watched all four seasons of this ridiculous show with my daughter, Sophie. She loved it, and sometimes, so did I.

Evil, which started on CBS and moved to Paramount+ (which is where I watched it), is about forensic psychologist, Dr. Kristen Bouchard (Katja Herbers), who joins together with a priest in training, David Acosta (Mike Colter) and a tech expert, Muslim,* and atheist Ben Shakir (Aasif Mandvil) to investigate cases of demonic possession** on behalf of the Catholic Church. Aside from a host of demons, the team’s main antagonist is the menacing Leland Townsend (played by the always fun and watchable Michael Emmerson).

From the outset, it’s never clear how seriously we are meant to take Evil. At times, it can be terrifying—especially when Kristen’s four daughters (who are delightfully annoying) are threatened by demonic evil. But, at the same time, and sometimes in the same scene, the show can be goofy, tongue firmly planted in cheek. I think it’s the second episode of season one, where they reproduce the iconic shot from The Exorcist, where Father Marrin arrives at Reagan’s house. But, even before then, the first demon Kristen encounters, named George, could easily have stepped out of an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Evil’s abrupt tonal shifts might be familiar to the fans of King’s other show, The Good Wife. I’ve never seen it, but I understand it often took the piss out of itself. That same attitude does work, to some degree, in the first season and a half of Evil. The show boldly explores the tension between faith and spirituality, and when it’s taking that topic seriously, it can be rather profound and moving. The best example of this comes in Season 3, just after the show jumps the shark the first time of many times (that Season 2 finale****). “S is for Silence” sees the team head to a silent monastery where they investigate a miracle involving a nun whose body hasn’t decomposed. There’s next to no dialogue, so the episode relies on its visuals and the characters’ body language. How the three react to the all-encompassing silence (Kirsten’s relationship with the younger nuns is lovely) speaks to their comfort or uneasiness with the spiritual.

As the show progresses, it becomes increasingly sillier, flinging itself bodily over that damn shark every second episode. All the stuff involving Kirsten’s husband and her mother is a mixture of batshit crazy and nonsensical. The sexual tension between Kirsten and David is tiresome (the whole wanting what you can’t have, especially when what you can’t have has a hot bod, is the worst sort of cliche). When the rational Ben puts on a silver tinfoil hat during season four, I knew the Kings***** had given up on the show.

Wallace Shawn’s appearance in the later seasons mitigates some of these issues. And I loved Sister Andrea (played by Andrea Martin), who is clearly having a great deal of fun. Her tussle with Leland is great. I also liked Dr. Kurt Boggs (Kurt Fuller) when the show took the character seriously—when his belief in science and medicine is tested by things he can’t explain. But, by the mid-point of season three, he’s become a parody of a parody. A bumbling, gullible psychiatrist who puts fame before his clients. 

When Evil is good and does occur, it’s very good (and very funny). The demons and devils, for example, are truly revolting (especially the manager demon who loves shortbreads). But mostly, it doesn’t so much strain a willing suspension of disbelief as take a dump on it.

But, hey, Soph loved it.

*I’m not racially profiling Ben. His faith, or lack thereof, is key to his character.

**Of which there are five types apparently. (It might be four. I wasn’t paying that much attention).

***Yes, it’s the X-Files Catholic style.

****No, I won’t give it away because you might want to see it. But it’s such a tired old cliche.

*****Oh, and Rockne O’Bannon as well… he of Farscape.