When Marvel Studios announced “Agatha All Along,” the reaction was mixed. While some “WandaVision” fans were curious about delving deeper into Agatha Harkness’s story, many wondered, “Who asked for this?” The series feels like an odd choice—a spin-off centered on a side character whose arc seemed complete. Unfortunately, the show does little to justify its existence, misusing a talented cast in a lackluster narrative that resembles a belated cash grab more than a meaningful addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
Attempting to recapture the magic of “WandaVision,” “Agatha All Along” picks up where its predecessor left off. However, where “WandaVision” skillfully blended homage and narrative depth (even if it failed to stick the landing with a messy and lackluster finale for the sake of MCU continuity), this series stumbles from the start. The initial premise—a dark, “Mare of Easttown”-inspired detective story titled “Agatha of Westview”—offers a glimmer of potential. Kathryn Hahn steps into the role of a grizzled detective with her usual charisma, but the intrigue fizzles out almost immediately.
Enter Rio (Aubrey Plaza), an FBI agent who’s actually a witch trying to snap Agatha out of her delusion. This plot twist feels forced, and the subsequent agreement to restore Agatha’s powers for the sake of a “fair fight” stretches believability thin. It’s a shaky foundation that only gets weaker as the story unfolds.
The series makes a commendable effort at inclusivity, featuring Katherine Hahn (the Pawnee residents), Aubrey Plaza (the Puerto Ricans), Sasheer Zamata (the Japanese), Patti Lupone (Broadway gays), Ali Ahn (the Yale alumni from Pasadena), Debra Jo Rupp (the teachers that marry their students) and Joe Locke (Zoomers) in prominent roles. However, representation without substance is like window dressing on an empty store. Characters like Teen (Joe Locke), whose defining traits are eyeliner and a mysterious past, serve as superficial markers rather than fully realized individuals. Get it? He is gay. Hard to miss after he screens a call from his boyfriend. Their identities feel tacked on, contributing little to the narrative or character development.
As Agatha sets out to regain her powers by assembling a coven, we’re introduced to a host of new characters, each with the potential to enrich the story. Patti LuPone’s Lilia is a 400-year-old divination expert; Sasheer Zamata’s Jen is a master of potions; Ali Ahn’s Alice specializes in protection spells; Debra Jo Rupp’s Sharon is a gardener pressed into service as the “green” witch. Yet, the script reduces them to one-note caricatures, defined by singular traits and predictable arcs. The dynamics within the coven lack depth, and any potential conflicts or bonds remain unexplored.
Visually, the series suffers from the same murky aesthetic that’s become an unfortunate hallmark of recent Marvel projects. The Witches’ Road—a supposed gothic counterpart to the Yellow Brick Road—is drenched in darkness and uninspired design. Instead of evoking mystery or danger, it simply obscures the action, making it hard to stay engaged.
In an attempt to inject variety, the show hops between genres and settings. One moment, the witches are solving riddles in a mansion; the next, they’re performing a rock ballad in a ’70s recording studio. While these scenes offer brief respite from the gloom, they feel disconnected and gimmicky—more like isolated skits than integral parts of the story.
The writing throughout is disappointingly bland. Witty banter and sharp dialogue are in short supply, and attempts at humor often fall flat. Potentially rich subplots, like the hinted-at past romance between Agatha and Rio, are left undeveloped. Even the central quest—to restore Agatha’s powers—lacks urgency or stakes, making it hard to care about the outcome.
Perhaps the most significant issue is how the show handles Agatha’s character. In “WandaVision,” she was a compelling antagonist with layers of intrigue. Here, she flip-flops between selfishness and sudden bouts of camaraderie without clear motivation. The attempt to recast her as an anti-hero feels unearned, a transformation that requires more nuance than the script provides.
The underlying problem with “Agatha All Along” is that it feels unnecessary. It arrives too late to capitalize on any residual goodwill from “WandaVision,” and its connection to the broader MCU is tenuous at best. Like the mishandling of Kang’s arc, this series seems out of sync with the current direction of Marvel’s storytelling.
Inclusivity is a worthy goal, but it can’t compensate for a lackluster narrative. Representation should enrich the story, not serve as a substitute for engaging content. Here, it’s a missed opportunity—a box ticked without meaningful integration into the plot.
In the end, “Agatha All Along” is a disappointing misstep for Marvel. It misuses a talented cast on a story that lacks purpose and fails to engage. Instead of expanding the universe in meaningful ways, it feels like a side quest that could have been skipped. Marvel would do well to focus on crafting stories that not only diversify their roster but also deliver the quality and depth audiences have come to expect.
Perhaps it’s time for the studio to consider that not every character needs their own spin-off, especially if there’s no compelling story to tell. As it stands, “Agatha All Along” is an unfortunate reminder that magic, no matter how potent, can’t fix a fundamentally flawed narrative.
