In the crowded landscape of broadcast television, where procedurals rise and fall like tides, ABC’s High Potential arrives like a gloriously unhinged fireworks display: explosive, unpredictable, and occasionally singeing your eyebrows. Premiering on September 17, 2024, this crime dramedy—created by Lost alum Drew Goddard and adapted from the French-Belgian hit HPI—thrusts viewers into the world of Morgan Gillory, a single mom and night-shift cleaner with an IQ of 160 who stumbles into solving LAPD cases like they’re spilled coffee stains. On paper, it’s a trope-laden fever dream: the quirky genius outsider schooling buttoned-up cops, with enough will-they-won’t-they tension to fill a rom-com subplot. But thanks to Kaitlin Olson’s tour-de-force performance as Morgan, what could have been a forgettable procedural becomes a guilty pleasure that’s equal parts exasperating and exhilarating. Olson, the queen of caustic comedy from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, turns every eye-roll into a revelation, every chaotic outburst into comic gold. Without her, the series—starring solid but underutilized Daniel Sunjata and Judy Reyes—might collapse under its own clichés. With her? It’s a razor-sharp romp that outsmarts its flaws, leaving you cackling, gasping, and desperately hitting “next episode” on Hulu. Buckle up, TV junkies: High Potential is the mess you didn’t know you needed, and Olson is the spark that sets it ablaze.

From the pilot’s opening scene—Morgan absentmindedly deducing a murderer’s motive while scrubbing toilets—to the season finale’s cliffhanger involving a corrupt cop and a ticking bomb (literal and metaphorical), High Potential leans hard into its high-concept hook. Morgan isn’t just smart; she’s a whirlwind of neurodivergent brilliance, her mind a hyperactive pinball machine that bounces from crime scene minutiae to personal meltdowns in seconds. As she transitions from janitor to reluctant consultant for Detective Adam Karadec (Sunjata), the show juggles procedural puzzles with domestic dramedy: wrangling three kids (a sassy teen daughter, a precocious middle child, and a wide-eyed toddler), dodging ex-husband drama, and clashing with a skeptical police force. It’s Monk meets The Good Place with a dash of Pushing Daisies whimsy, but where those shows polished their quirks to perfection, High Potential revels in the rough edges. Cases range from the absurd (a killer using artisanal cheese as a weapon) to the poignant (a missing immigrant artist’s final masterpiece), but the real crime here is how the script sometimes sidelines its ensemble for Olson’s spotlight. Yet, damn if she doesn’t make it work—her Morgan is a force of nature, transforming potential trainwrecks into triumphs that have fans tweeting, “Olson could solve world hunger and still trip over her own feet—sign me up for season 2!”

Kaitlin Olson: From Dee Reynolds to Detective Whisperer—The Star Who Steals Every Scene
Let’s cut to the chase: Kaitlin Olson is High Potential. At 49, the Portland native has spent nearly two decades as Sweet Dee, the perpetually underestimated bar manager on FX’s It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, honing a comedic style that’s equal parts venomous and vulnerable. Dee was the ultimate underdog—screechy, scheming, and sidelined—yet Olson infused her with such magnetic pathos that fans rooted for her inevitable disasters. Now, in High Potential, Olson channels that energy into Morgan Gillory, a character who’s Dee’s brainy cousin: chaotic, unapologetic, and disarmingly brilliant. “Morgan’s like if Dee got a PhD in forensics and a custody battle,” Olson joked in a 2024 Variety interview, her deadpan delivery masking the depth she brings to the role.
Olson’s Morgan is a revelation—a cleaning lady whose mop-wielding mundanity belies a mind that unravels alibis like tangled yarn. In the pilot, she casually solves a cold case while vacuuming the precinct, spotting a suspect’s mismatched socks as the key to a forgery ring. It’s a classic “fish-out-of-water” setup, but Olson elevates it with razor-sharp timing: her eyes widen like a kid spotting candy as connections click, only to deflate into exasperated sighs when no one keeps up. “Out of all the geniuses in LA, why’d they hire the one who can’t fold fitted sheets?” she quips to her reflection, a line that lands like a gut-punch of self-deprecating hilarity. Critics rave about her versatility; The AV Club called her “a comedic Swiss Army knife, flipping from farce to feels without missing a beat.” In a standout episode, Morgan infiltrates a high-society gala disguised as a caterer, her ill-fitting tuxedo and improvised deductions leading to a chase scene that’s pure slapstick genius—Olson pratfalls through a chandelier while monologuing quantum physics, turning potential cheese into caviar.

But Olson’s magic isn’t just laughs; it’s the layers she uncovers. Morgan’s genius comes with strings: ADHD-fueled distractions, a messy home life, and the constant hum of overstimulation that makes small talk feel like scaling Everest. Olson, who drew from her own experiences with neurodiversity, nails the exhaustion behind the brilliance—those quiet moments where Morgan stares at a family photo, tears welling as she whispers, “I just want to be normal for five minutes.” It’s a far cry from Dee’s unbridled rage, showcasing Olson’s dramatic chops honed in Hacks (where she earned an Emmy nod as a sharp-tongued comic) and Finding Dory (voicing the forgetful fish with heartbreaking warmth). “Kaitlin’s the glue,” showrunner Todd Harthan told TV Guide ahead of season 2. “She makes Morgan relatable—genius or not, she’s us: flawed, fierce, and funny as hell.” Fans on X echo this: “#HighPotential lives or dies by Olson—her reaction shots alone are Emmy bait!” one viral thread proclaimed, racking up 15K likes.

Olson’s off-screen charm bleeds into the role too. A producer on the series, she pushed for more authentic portrayals of single motherhood, insisting on scenes where Morgan FaceTimes her kids mid-interrogation. “I wanted her to be messy, not manic pixie dream detective,” Olson shared at the 2024 Emmys press junket. The result? A character who’s as likely to high-five a suspect as handcuff them, her wit a weapon sharper than any badge. In season 1’s finale, as bombs tick and betrayals unfold, Olson delivers a monologue that’s pure fire: “Life’s not a puzzle—it’s a spill. And I’m the one with the mop.” Chills, laughs, applause—Olson owns it all.

The Chaotic Mess: Clichés, Plot Holes, and Why It (Somehow) Works
Admit it: High Potential is a hot mess. The premise screams “seen it before”—the eccentric savant consulting for skeptical cops? It’s Monk, Psych, The Mentalist, and a dozen more, all blended in a procedural smoothie that’s equal parts frothy and formulaic. Drew Goddard’s script, while zippy, leans on tropes like the grizzled detective thawing to the newbie (Sunjata’s Karadec, a widower with a tragic backstory that’s revealed in episode 2—yawn) and the no-nonsense boss lady (Judy Reyes as Detective Elena Ortiz, who’s tough but tokenized). Cases-of-the-week often resolve with a tidy twist: the unassuming neighbor was the killer all along, cue dramatic reveal in the rain. Plot holes abound—how does a cleaner get instant LAPD clearance? Why does Morgan’s genius only falter on laundry day?—and the pacing stumbles, cramming emotional beats into commercial breaks.
Season 1, which wrapped in February 2025 with a 13-episode arc, flirts with self-parody: a mid-season episode has Morgan solving a heist via lipstick shades, a gag that’s clever until you realize it’s filler. Supporting characters feel like sketches—Sunjata’s Karadec is broodingly handsome but bland, his chemistry with Olson more “odd couple” than “opposites attract.” Reyes’ Ortiz barks orders with gusto, but her arc (a secret affair with a suspect?) veers into soap territory without depth. The kids? Adorable props, spouting wisdom like tiny therapists. Collider nailed it: “The show props up Olson at the expense of its ensemble, leaving everyone else in the dust.” And the dramedy balance? Wobbly—one minute it’s Brooklyn Nine-Nine hijinks, the next a tearjerker about Morgan’s late husband, jarring like a gear shift in neutral.

Yet, here’s the genius (pun intended): the chaos works. Goddard’s touch—echoing Lost’s mystery-box flair—infuses episodes with Goddard-esque surprises, like a season 1 villain who’s a rogue AI ethicist (topical, if timely). The LA setting pops: sun-baked crime scenes, neon-lit chases through Koreatown, all shot with a glossy sheen that screams “binge me.” Humor lands in bursts—Morgan’s deadpan asides (“This blood spatter? Picasso would approve”) cut tension like a knife. Variety praised its “quirky style and bizarre cases [that] deliver just a little more than the average cop drama.” It’s not revolutionary, but in a fall TV slate dominated by reboots, High Potential’s unpolished charm feels fresh—like eavesdropping on a brilliant friend’s wild theories over wine.
The Supporting Cast: Sunjata and Reyes Hold the Line (Barely)

Daniel Sunjata and Judy Reyes are the sturdy beams propping up Olson’s cathedral of crazy, but they’re woefully underlit. Sunjata, the Rescue Me alum with a jawline sharper than a switchblade, plays Karadec as the classic straight man: by-the-book, haunted by a dead wife, slowly charmed by Morgan’s mayhem. Their banter sparks—him: “This isn’t a game”; her: “Says the guy losing at Clue”—but his depth is skin-deep. A season 1 subplot about his rogue informant (played by a hammy guest star) fizzles, leaving Sunjata smirking through subplots. “Sunjata’s got chemistry with Olson, but the script starves him,” TV Guide noted in its season 2 preview. Still, he shines in action beats, his tactical takedowns a welcome counter to Morgan’s brainy flails.
Reyes, the Scrubs vet, brings fire as Ortiz, the precinct’s iron-fisted lieutenant who’s equal parts mentor and menace. Her no-BS vibe clashes hilariously with Morgan’s whimsy—”Gillory, if you solve this with glitter, I’ll tase you”—but her personal stakes (a custody fight mirroring Morgan’s) feel tacked-on. The ensemble rounds out with Amirah J. as teen daughter Ava (sassy eye-rolls galore), Matthew Lillard as a bumbling forensic tech, and guest spots from Hacks crossovers that wink at Olson’s past. They’re game, but the show treats them like extras in Morgan’s one-woman show. Season 2, premiering September 16, 2025, promises tweaks—more Karadec backstory, Ortiz leading a task force—but if it doesn’t elevate them, the “potential” remains just that.
Fireworks from Clichés: Why High Potential Is Your New Addictive Binge

Clichés? Sure. But Olson alchemizes them into fireworks. Take the “genius reveal” trope: instead of exposition dumps, Morgan’s insights erupt in cutaway fantasies—animated reenactments where she puppeteers suspects like marionettes. It’s Good Omens meets CSI, visually punchy and laugh-out-loud inventive. The guilty pleasure peaks in episodes blending high-stakes drama with lowbrow laughs: a killer clown case devolves into Morgan in full mime makeup, deducing motives via balloon animals. “It’s unpredictable hilarity,” CinemaBlend raved, noting how it sidesteps procedural pitfalls like repetitive reveals.
Thematically, it sneaks in smarts: Morgan’s neurodivergence isn’t a gimmick but a lens on privilege—how “high potential” brains get overlooked in blue-collar lives. Her single-mom struggles ring true, from PTA wars to midnight meltdowns, grounding the glamour in grit. The Daily Beast called it “the rare broadcast hit that feels alive,” crediting Olson’s “quirky procedural [that] captures why we watch: escape with edge.” Ratings back it: season 1 averaged 6.5 million viewers, topping ABC’s new dramas and spawning TikTok theories (“Is Karadec the mole?!”).
Season 2 ramps the chaos: a new adversary (a rival genius played by The Good Place’s William Jackson Harper) challenges Morgan, while personal arcs deepen—will she reconcile with her ex? Adopt a case’s orphaned kid? The premiere, screened for critics, teases “multi-layered mysteries worthy of her noggin,” per The AV Club. With Hulu streaming, it’s primed for watercooler dominance.

The Verdict: Tune In for the Mess, Stay for the Magic
High Potential is flawed brilliance—a chaotic mess redeemed by Kaitlin Olson’s supernova turn. It’s not perfect TV; it’s addictive TV, the kind you devour while yelling at plot holes, then defend to skeptics. In a sea of safe procedurals, it dares to detonate, and Olson lights the fuse. Without her, it’s a dud; with her, it’s dynamite. Premiering Tuesdays on ABC (next-day Hulu), season 2 drops September 16—grab your mop and dive in. Who knows? You might just solve the mystery of why you can’t look away.