Jeff Bridges looks tired. Not just "long day at work" tired, but a bone-deep, decades-long exhaustion that defines every frame of The Old Man Season 1. When the show first dropped on FX, people expected a standard "retired assassin comes back for one last job" trope. You've seen it a thousand times. Liam Neeson has basically made a second career out of it. But this isn't that. Honestly, it’s much weirder and significantly more brutal.
Dan Chase, played by Bridges, isn't a superhero. He’s a guy who forgets where he put his keys but can also snap a carotid artery without blinking. It’s that contrast—the vulnerability of aging mixed with high-level tradecraft—that makes the first seven episodes so gripping. If you missed it when it first aired, or if you got halfway through and got distracted by life, you're missing out on some of the most literate action television ever made.
The plot centers on Chase, a former CIA operative who has been living off the grid for thirty years. He's got two massive dogs, a daughter he speaks to on the phone, and a lot of secrets. When a hitman breaks into his house in the middle of the night, the facade shatters. Suddenly, the past isn't just a memory; it’s a manhunt led by Harold Harper, played by the legendary John Lithgow. Watching these two titans of acting play a high-stakes game of chess from across the country is, quite frankly, the main reason to watch.
What Actually Happens in The Old Man Season 1
The show doesn't hand-hold. It jumps between the present day and the 1980s Soviet-Afghan War. We see a younger Dan Chase (played by Bill Heck, who nails Bridges' mannerisms) going rogue to support an Afghan warlord named Faraz Hamzad. This isn't just backstory fluff. It is the literal foundation of why everyone is trying to kill each other forty years later.
Chase stole something. Well, he stole someone: Hamzad’s wife, Abbey.
In the present, Chase ends up on the run with a civilian named Zoe (Amy Brenneman). This is where the show takes a sharp turn from your typical thriller. Zoe isn't a damsel. She’s a divorced woman with her own financial baggage who realizes that being associated with a fugitive means her old life is over. She doesn't just scream and run; she negotiates. She becomes a partner in a way that feels incredibly grounded and, honestly, a little terrifying.
💡 You might also like: Disney Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas Light Trail: Is the New York Botanical Garden Event Worth Your Money?
Meanwhile, Harold Harper is dealing with his own mess. He’s a high-ranking FBI official who helped Chase disappear decades ago. Now, he’s tasked with catching him. To do it, he brings in a protégé, Angela Adams (Alia Shawkat). The dynamic between Harper and Angela is the emotional heart of the series. They have this surrogate father-daughter bond that feels more real than the actual blood relations in the show.
The Fight Scenes Are Disgusting (In a Good Way)
Most TV fights are choreographed like dances. They’re clean.
The Old Man Season 1 goes the opposite direction. The fights are clumsy, desperate, and loud. When Bridges fights a younger, faster assassin in the second episode, it’s agonizing. You hear the heavy breathing. You see the joints popping. It’s a reminder that Dan Chase is, in fact, an old man. He wins not because he’s stronger, but because he’s meaner and has more experience using household objects as weapons.
Director Jon Watts, who did the recent Spider-Man trilogy, brings a surprisingly gritty eye to the first two episodes. He lingers on the aftermath. He shows the bruises. It makes the stakes feel massive because you realize Chase might actually just have a heart attack mid-brawl.
The Complicated Truth About Abbey Chase
The big twist—the one that recontextualizes everything you thought you knew—involves Abbey. Throughout the season, we see her in flashbacks and in Chase’s hallucinations. She’s portrayed as this tragic figure who died of Huntington’s disease.
📖 Related: Diego Klattenhoff Movies and TV Shows: Why He’s the Best Actor You Keep Forgetting You Know
But as the layers peel back, we find out she was the real power player. She wasn't just a trophy Chase took from Afghanistan. She was a woman with her own agency and her own secrets that even Chase didn't fully grasp. This revelation changes the show from a "man on the run" story into a "legacy of lies" story.
The writing, led by Jonathan E. Steinberg and Robert Levine, treats the audience like adults. They reference the real-world complexities of the CIA’s involvement in Afghanistan without making it a history lecture. They focus on the human cost of "Great Game" politics.
Why The Ending Left People Screaming
The finale of The Old Man Season 1 is polarizing. It doesn't wrap everything up in a neat bow. In fact, it ends on a massive cliffhanger that reveals Angela Adams’ true identity.
- Angela is actually Emily, Dan Chase’s daughter.
- But she’s also the daughter of Faraz Hamzad.
- She’s been working inside the FBI while her "two fathers" played a game with her life.
It’s a lot to process. Some fans felt frustrated by the lack of resolution, but looking back, it sets the stage for a much deeper exploration of identity. The show asks if we are who we choose to be, or if we’re just the sum of our parents' sins.
How to Actually Watch This Without Getting Lost
If you’re diving into this now, you've got to pay attention to the dialogue. This isn't a "second screen" show where you can scroll through TikTok while watching.
👉 See also: Did Mac Miller Like Donald Trump? What Really Happened Between the Rapper and the President
- Watch the eyes. Lithgow and Bridges do more with a squint or a heavy sigh than most actors do with a five-minute monologue.
- Listen to the phone calls. A huge portion of the tension happens over cellular signals. The way Harper talks to Chase—part old friend, part mortal enemy—is masterclass level writing.
- Don't trust the flashbacks immediately. They are colored by Chase’s memory, which we eventually learn is somewhat selective.
The production was actually halted mid-way through because Jeff Bridges was diagnosed with lymphoma and then contracted COVID-19. He almost died. When he came back to finish the season, he was literally a survivor. That real-life gravity bleeds into his performance in the later episodes. You can see the physical toll, and it adds a layer of authenticity that you just can't fake with makeup.
Real-World Tradecraft vs. Hollywood Magic
The show gets a lot of the "spy stuff" right. It’s not about gadgets; it’s about logistics. It’s about having the right passport, the right burner phone, and the ability to disappear into a crowd of seniors at a diner.
The use of the dogs is also a stroke of genius. They aren't just pets; they’re weapons and early warning systems. But they also remind us that Chase is capable of love and care, even when he’s killing people. It’s that duality that keeps the character from becoming a "cold-blooded killer" cliché.
Moving Forward With The Story
To get the most out of this series, you should approach it as a character study disguised as a thriller. The "spy" elements are just the engine. The fuel is the regret of two old men who realized they spent their lives serving causes that didn't deserve them.
Next Steps for the Viewer:
- Binge the first four episodes in one sitting. The momentum builds specifically in that block, and it helps you keep the names of the Afghan factions straight.
- Pay attention to the color palette. Notice how the "present day" is often cold and blue, while the flashbacks have a dusty, golden hue. It’s a visual cue for how Chase romanticizes his past crimes.
- Look up the history of the Mujahideen. Having even a basic understanding of the 1980s conflict in Afghanistan makes the stakes between Chase and Hamzad feel much more grounded in reality.
- Watch for the subtle cues in Angela's office. Her transition from a confident Fed to someone questioning her entire existence is one of the best character arcs on television.
The show isn't perfect—sometimes the philosophical monologues go on a bit too long—but it’s incredibly ambitious. It treats the spy genre with a level of dignity and grit that we haven't seen since The Americans. Once you finish the season, you’ll realize that the title doesn't just refer to Dan Chase. It refers to a whole generation of men who thought they were heroes, only to realize they were just the help.