Season 1 of The Morning Show was the good kind of TV stress. Like, phone-down, edge-of-couch, “did she really just say that on air?” kind of stress. It was about power and reckoning and the unglamorous fallout of ambition. And I’ve been chasing that high ever since.
Season 2 went full plate-spinning mode with covering COVID, cancel culture, climate anxiety, canceling cancel culture, and in trying to say everything, said very little. Season 3 was a tonal jigsaw puzzle that didn’t always fit together, but… I was entertained. It embraced the soap by stuffing in modern-day media panic, a shady billionaire, messy mergers, and a dozen moral crises, all scored to moody piano.
Now, two years after the UBA-NBN merger, Season 4 begins with something that’s been missing: direction. There’s a new network (UBN), a new dynamic, and finally, a sense that the writers know what kind of show they’re making again.
We’ll be updating this review with fresh takes and highlights every week as new episodes air, because if there’s one thing The Morning Show guarantees, it’s drama on a deadline.
Episode 1: My Roman Empire
The new network, UBN, is banking everything on its Olympics coverage and flashy new AI tools, but behind the scenes, trust is thin and nerves are fraying. Alex has stepped into a more executive role, Stella’s now CEO, and the show wastes no time throwing them both into the deep end. First with internal resistance to AI, then with an international defection plot that threatens to blow up the entire network.
The defection storyline, involving an Iranian teenage Olympian and her father, is as chaotic as it is watchable. It’s also the perfect reintroduction to Alex: composed on the surface, spiraling underneath, and once again walking the line between power and recklessness. Marion Cotillard is a strong addition as icy board member Celine Dumont, while Boyd Holbrook’s Brodie Hartman brings a much-needed dose of disruptive energy. Meanwhile, Bradley is barely present, still off the grid until a whistleblower message pulls her back into the game.
This is the first time in a long time that The Morning Show feels like it knows exactly what kind of mess it wants to be. It’s not exactly subtle, but it never was. What it is, though, is entertaining: glossy, timely, and chaotic in all the right ways. If the rest of the season can keep this balance, The Morning Show might finally deliver the kind of season it’s been trying to make since Season 1.
Episode 2: The Revolution Will Be Televised
This episode slows the fire to let cracks form. After the explosive defection opener, this week leans into fallout: deepfake rumors swirl around Alex, threatening to turn the Roya stunt into a media nightmare. Cory’s finally back to doing what he does best: making deals, stirring chaos, and pretending it’s all part of the plan. He’s sniffing around Stella for money like a man who knows exactly where the bodies are buried, and honestly, I trust him to blow up half the boardroom before episode 5.
What the episode lacks in big swings, it makes up for in carefully placed landmines. Cotillard’s Celine stays icily composed as pressure builds around her. Brodie lurks, still more threat than player, but clearly waiting for the moment to strike. Chris’s internal conflict gets more space this week, as she navigates motherhood alongside the creeping realization that UBN might not be as clean as it pretends. Alex, pulled in every direction, begins to show cracks again, not the emotional breakdown kind, but the quieter kind that surfaces when you realize you’re not the one holding the steering wheel anymore.
The pacing slows, but the grip tightens. Whispers about coverups, tech gone rogue, and internal politics set the tone, and the show finally feels like it’s letting things simmer instead of rushing to the next headline. The revolution may not be televised just yet, but UBN’s house of cards is starting to sway, and that’s when The Morning Show is most fun to watch.
Episode 3: Tipping Point
After two episodes of tension, threats, and beautifully timed walkouts, this one slows the pace. But it doesn’t feel like a slowdown so much as a recalibration. Most of the weight of the episode lands on Mia Jordan, who’s spent years climbing the ladder, only to find it leads nowhere. Watching her lose the Head of News position stings, because it’s such a missed opportunity and you can see how badly she wants it, and how much she’s built her life around it. And this week, that faith and trust she’s had in her work family snaps. She’s passed over in favor of Olympic golden boy Ben, and it cracks something in her.
Bradley and Chip, meanwhile, are deep in the weeds chasing UBA’s buried secrets. With a little help from Claire and a quietly panicked tip from Bethanne, they’re inching closer to something ugly hiding in the archives. Bradley isn’t back at UBN for anyone there. She’s got her own reasons, and whatever spark the job used to hold is long gone. Alex, on the other hand, is stuck revisiting the worst subplot from last season. Her run-in with Paul Marks adds very little, and it’s hard not to feel like we’re just keeping Jon Hamm on the board for the sake of it. Their argument is technically new, but emotionally it’s ground we’ve already walked. It ends the same way it always does: awkward, unresolved, and a little tired.
And then there’s Cory and Bradley. They finally cross the line, and it’s messy in all the ways you’d expect. After three seasons of emotional chicken and a catastrophically timed “I love you,” the show delivers the long-teased hookup and it’s…fine? There’s a whiff of chemistry here, but the moment doesn’t feel like a payoff. If anything, it feels complicated and slightly off. It might even be calculated. This episode isn’t the tipping point the title promises, but it’s a shift. Not a big one, mind you, more like a quiet pivot. Something’s coming, but we’re not quite there yet.
Episode 4: Love the Questions
This one opens with Rick Astley, a proposal gone sideways, and a full-blown dance number. Which is to say: The Morning Show is thriving in its chaos era, and I am absolutely here for it. Nestor Carbonell sells every second of Yanko’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” performance like his life depends on it, hips swaying, lights flashing, dancers twirling around him. It’s absurd, self-indulgent, and perfect. But the high fades fast when word gets out that Claire’s back in town, and suddenly Yanko is spiraling. The proposal doesn’t happen, a potential plane crash hijacks the morning broadcast, and by the time the aircraft lands safely, all we’re left with is Ariana’s quiet knowing smile. She saw it coming all along. If you’ve ever wanted to get emotionally rickrolled by a show that whiplashes between satire and soap, this is your episode.
Elsewhere, Alex is putting out fires from every direction. Her father shows up furious about plagiarism accusations resurfacing, and her attempt to smooth it over backfires hard. Watching her navigate that generational ego clash is oddly satisfying. She’s trying to keep the peace, but Martin’s bitterness burns through. Meanwhile, her newsroom is crawling with secrets. The Wolf River investigation is heating up, and Bradley finally loops her in—sort of. The scenes between them snap with tension, the kind that comes from betrayal that’s still too fresh. And even though Alex gives her the green light, there’s a visible “don’t make me regret this” hanging in the air.
And then there’s Cory. Always scheming, always ten steps ahead, until suddenly… he’s not. Celine makes it clear she wants to run the whole show, and she’s willing to trade power for intel. At first he resists. But after a few pointed conversations and a bruised ego, he drops the bomb: Stella and Miles are having an affair. The reveal is brutal, not just for what it exposes, but for what it costs. Cory’s clearly unraveling, and this move doesn’t feel calculated, it feels desperate. Watching him flinch at his own words is rare. For a man who’s always known how to spin the story, he’s suddenly looking like someone who doesn’t have one. Altogether, it’s the kind of episode that makes you wonder if the writers are winging it, but somehow, the chaos still clicks just enough to keep you watching.
