The Hardy Boys Review: This Dark 1980s Take on a Classic Will Leave You Satisfied

Everyone loves a good mystery, and there’s nothing people enjoy more than solving them alongside their favorite infamous detectives.

Keeping in line with The CW’s Nancy Drew and Netflix’s Enola Holmes, Hulu joins the latest fad with its re-imagination of The Hardy Boys.

Developed by Steve Cochrane and Jason Stone, this new and improved version of The Hardy Boys breaks away from its predecessors and instead, takes on a more mysterious tone steeped deeply in the supernatural.

Understandably, one might typically draw instant similarities to sister show Nancy Drew — a show that also retooled itself with a darker aesthetic.

Both are beach town mysteries with supernatural components, after all. But The Hardy Boys opts out of Drew’s irksome and incessant voice-over technique, and drops in on the mid-1980s; making the series feel like it’s riding the coattails of Netflix sensation Stranger Things more than anything else. 

That’s not necessarily a bad thing; the 80s themed setting allows the show certain restraints — primarily the lack of modern technology — that instantly make the mysteries more fun to solve (you can’t just google!).

The clever score adds hints of Home Alone and Goonies like elements, and the wholesome family dynamic also gives the series its own unique footprint in the TV landscape, keeping Joe and Frank’s adventures lighter than those back in Hawkins, Indiana.
Most of the time, anyway. 

That rooted family center really is what makes The Hardy Boys shine; the show is careful to instill unwaveringly tight bonds between the Hardy’s from the opening sequences; guiding the audience into immediate investment into their close-knit dynamic.

The first episode is almost entirely dedicated to Laura Hardy’s stellar relationship with her children, making her death — which comes quickly by pilot’s end — predictable, but heart-wrenching just the same.

From there, it’s the brotherhood between Joe and Frank that carries the show forward — a dynamic which both Rohan Campbell and Alexander Elliot take very seriously, selling it through humor, heart, and begrudging adoration the two have for one another, no matter the circumstances.

The performances of both Campbell and Elliot — who play Frank and Joe, respectively — can not truly be praised enough.

Both first time TV actors take on their leading roles with grace and exceptional artistry. Elliot’s emotional range, in particular, turns an otherwise sarcastic pre-pubescent into a humanized, three-dimensional, broken boy deeply grieving the loss of his mother.

It takes Campbell a bit longer to settle into the more straight-laced Frank, who starts out stiff and unsure in his ability to carry a series. He’s completely alive by the back half of the season, though — bringing a balance of maturity and vulnerability to the role that feels organic and heartfelt in all the right places.

While the actors sell their brotherly love, the show sells the mystery, making Frank and Joe the perfect balance of talented, whip-smart, completely naive untrained detectives who find themselves way over their heads on more than one occasion.

This show never really forgets these kids are still kids; routinely dropping the boys in scenarios that end with them paying dearly for careless mistakes.

Aiding and abetting a fugitive, investigating dirty cops, and attempting to trap a Russian Mafia assassin (you read that right) are all big swings that cause serious consequences for not just the boys, but their entire Scooby Gang of friendly helpers.

Considering all the characters and various moving pieces, the show also does a fairly solid job at balancing its time, even occasionally, if anything, feeling slightly tedious. Running no less than three separate mysteries at once, things do manage to come together somewhat seamlessly over the course of the series, leaving few loose ends untied.

Those tied ends aren’t always executed well, however, and Hardy Boys takes a dip in the finale. The main mystery — who murdered their mother, Laura Hardy — comes together with a predictable, completely unsatisfactory conclusion; both the murderer and motive contain zero depth or critical thinking, and could have been solved by the end of episode two. 

The show also loses balance when relying too heavily on the supernatural. The idea of an “all-powerful family weapon that must be destroyed” raises the stakes in theory, but when presented on screen, falls flat of delivering the climactic moment necessary after twelve episodes of in-depth sleuthing.

Here, the journey is far more interesting than the destination.

Much of that journey being so worthwhile has to do with the gaggle of misfits Frank and Joe encounter along the way.

Most noteworthy is J.B. Cox (Atticus Mitchell); a morally grey fugitive with a conscience. Mitchell is a perfect casting choice for Cox — using his comedic prowess to elevate the series, his depiction of a world-class criminal who can’t stop letting a twelve-year-old boy get the best of him is hilariously spot-on. 

If anything, Mitchell is far too underutilized. It’s entertaining to watch him pop up in unexpected moments throughout the season, but his character’s narrative is a perfect subplot; breathing fresh air into a sometimes tedious main storyline.

The Hardy Boys/Hulu

There’s also standout Riley O’Donnell, who plays Joe’s new friend slash crush, Biff. Her quirky and determined personality makes her a perfect match for Joe, and the two of them provide some of the show’s most endearing character-focused moments. 

It’s hard to believe two 12-year-olds would, in fact, deliver the best romantic storyline on the show, but their dynamic is organic, easy, and heartfelt — not to mention ever expanding throughout the thirteen-episode run.

The rest of the romances, however, tend to sputter or stop short. Franks’s romance with Callie, in particular, feels forced — as if the show feared it lacked the right amount of “teen drama” to garner interest, so it threw together a totally deflated love triangle.

Unfortunately, not a single one of the characters involved gives off the slightest indication they even like each other all that much, and it isn’t until Callie’s boyfriend breaks up with her over the “feelings she has” for Frank, that it becomes clear where the story is supposed to be heading. 

Frank and Callie work as friends, but the sparks simply aren’t there, or at the very least, the foundation isn’t. Not yet. Their kiss in the finale episode feels like a check off a list of things someone felt The Hardy Boys needed, instead of a payoff of anticipation. 

While focusing on that lackluster relationship, The Hardy Boys manages to miss it’s best potential one — Aunt Trudy and Jesse.

These two characters have enough sparks to set off an entire firework show. While the series hints at a tension stemming beyond friendship at times, it never commits to crossing the threshold into romance. It’s a colossal missed opportunity for a depiction of a fantastic female/female romance, and some much-needed LGBTQIA representation.

Luckily, The Hardy Boys is clearly not about its romantic courtship; it’s about the importance of family (given or found), and bonds between brothers that can’t be broken. In those aspects, the show fires on all cylinders.

Overall, The Hardy Boys would have deeply benefitted from a more surprising and complex conclusion, but the journey itself is the perfect deliverance of eerie nostalgia and fun moving puzzle pieces for an audience to solve.

It’s something I wouldn’t mind watching for quite a few more seasons.

What did you think of The Hardy Boys? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

Critic Rating:

User Rating:

 

The Hardy Boys is airing now on Hulu. 

 Follow us on Twitter and on Instagram!

Want more from Tell-Tale TV? Subscribe to our newsletter here!

18 Throwback TV Shows For You To Comfort Binge