About time — 'Lioness' season 3 tackles the Taylor Sheridan show's biggest problem

Let’s talk about Lioness season 3, because honestly, it feels like the Taylor Sheridan spy series has finally found a bit of soul beneath all the drone strikes and CIA acronyms. The show’s always boasted cinematic gunfights and globe-trotting espionage, but this new run seems just as interested in the stuff that happens when the guns go away — messy marriages, grumpy teenagers, and work-life chaos that no one’s getting paid extra to survive.

The ‘New’ Lioness: Spy Thrills Plus Family Drama

Season 3 keeps Sheridan’s signature geopolitical flavour — Ukraine drone warfare, U.S. naturalisation shenanigans, even a nod to Russia’s wild friendship with North Korea all show up in barely three episodes. But there’s real progress in terms of character depth. The show’s no longer just about who’s breaking into a Russian Embassy, but who’s breaking down at home because of it.

Lioness season 3 moves back and forth between present-day drama and past operations, making the storytelling feel a lot more layered than previous years.

Remember first two seasons? Loads of intelligence jargon, very little about how anyone actually felt once they put the earpiece down. Apart from Cruz’s coming out arc in season 1, everyone else could’ve been robots for all we knew. But now there’s proper tension between Joe and her husband Neal. He’s not just the nervous spouse hoping she comes home in one piece, either — he charges right into Joe’s office to have it out with Kaitlyn (Joe’s boss), demanding answers about the threats hanging over his family. Progress, that.

Over in Kaitlyn’s household, things are gentler — her husband’s idea of intimacy is chatting about China and COVID rather than hiding in the corner while she checks emails. Sheridan finally seems interested in what happens in these people’s kitchens, not just their Afghan safehouses.

Why Sheridan’s Best Shows Work

There’s a pattern here if you squint: the Taylor Sheridan universe is at its best when the private lives are as watchable as all the business intrigue. Take Landman — the only thing duller than tax avoidance subplots is the idea of Angela and Tommy not flirting over FaceTime. Yellowstone worked because the Dutton family arguments were just as compelling as its shootouts. Viewers stuck around because they cared about Beth, Kayce, all of them — even when the action drifted from the original ranch.

• This year, Lioness is finally pulling off a similar trick — blending the high stakes and the ‘mundane’ in a way that might actually keep audiences coming back.

Case in point: Joe and Neal’s relationship now has sharper edges, and even Kaitlyn’s marriage has a pulse, rather than just paperwork. It’s not much, but it’s better than the usual one-note ‘government agent with a neglected family’ stereotype Sheridan used to write.

Room for Growth – More Than Just ‘Mum and Dad’ Stuff

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not perfect. The family side could be pushed much further. For starters, Kate — Joe’s daughter — currently exists to wrinkle her nose whenever her parents show a hint of affection. Sheridan seems content giving her little quips, but she could be far more involved. Tip for the writers: make her the next ‘annoying teenager’ delight, like Ainsley in Landman or Meadow Soprano back in the day. Let her cause actual problems, not just background snark.

There’s also mileage in letting the Quick Reaction Force team do more than clean guns and look haunted. Tucker and Carrillo almost had something interesting developing last season (at least Tucker seemed invested), but Sheridan left it on the shelf. And the show’s other operators — Two Cup, Bobby, the lot — deserve a chance to unwind, crack open a beer, and be human. Why not?

Lioness season 3 has already landed storylines touching on Ukraine’s war tech, Russia-North Korea ties, and immigration headaches — and that’s just the first three episodes.

Put simply, Sheridan’s writing is at its best when chaos at work is matched by chaos at home. Breaking Bad, Succession — the gold standard for prestige telly — excel because the personal and professional stories tangle up in ways that actually mean something. Lioness feels like it’s just discovering this formula. Here’s hoping it sticks.