‘Homeland’ ran from 2011 to 2020 on Showtime. It’s about Carrie, a CIA officer with bipolar disorder. She thinks a rescued prisoner is now a bad guy. The show dives into terrorism, espionage, mental health and political drama. Carrie dodges danger to save her country and untangle a mess of conspiracies. Fun, right?

Meet the characters from Homeland

Carrie Mathison

Carrie is a hurricane in human form — brilliant, obsessed, and allergic to subtlety. She can see patterns other people miss and then won’t stop poking the hornet’s nest until something gives (or she passes out, which is also apparently part of her charm). Bipolar? Yes, but that word barely scratches the manic glitter and terrifying focus she brings; she’s both the messy wreck and the sharpest mind in the room. She hoards Post-it notes, drinks terrible coffee, and will slam a file on your desk like a promise — and then call you at two a.m. to apologize and explain her theory.

Saul Berenson

Saul is the steady old oak in a forest full of dynamite — wry, patient, endlessly strategic, and somehow always one step ahead even when he pretends not to be. He’s the mentor type who’ll cradle your failures and use them to build better plans, but don’t be fooled, he’s got iron where it counts; ruthless when necessary, sentimental in small pockets. He’s got this way of saying the quietest thing and it lands like a verdict, which is probably why people both trust and fear him. Loves books, hates wasted time, and has more secrets than he has ties (and that’s saying something because he has a lot of ties).

Nicholas Brody

Brody is haunted in the handsomest way possible — ex-soldier turned politician, wrapped in contradictions: fiercely patriotic and deeply broken, tender with his kids and capable of choices that unravel everyone. He carries a dangerous charisma; you believe him, you sympathize with him, and then you’re thrown for a loop because he’s always two people at once. He prays and he rages, he reads scripture but listens to angry music at midnight — the private life is messy and the public face is practiced. There’s something tragic and magnetic about him, like a man trying to be forgiven by the world and by himself, and sometimes succeeding in both for a moment.

Peter Quinn

Quinn is the silent blade — lethal, efficient, and weirdly emotionally literate for a guy who barely says anything. He kills with minimal fuss and then shows up at coffee shops reading the most pretentious poetry, because of course he does; tiny contradictions are his aesthetic. He’s stoic but soft in private, scarred and still capable of small, almost clumsy kindnesses, and his sense of humor is dry enough to cure dehydration. Dangerous and fragile at once, he’s the type you’d trust with a secret and also with an AK-47, which is not a normal combo but somehow fits him.

David Wellington

Wellington is the sleek, pragmatic operator who thinks in terms of chess moves and damage control — very white-collar ruthless, clean suit, colder coffee, colder decisions. He’s the reminder that sometimes the biggest threat isn’t dramatic espionage but a calm man in a meeting who can sign papers and erase lives with a stamp. He’s political to the bone, prefers systems to theatrics, and will make the hard call with the face of a man choosing between socks. Surprisingly domestic in tiny ways (pluralizes “agenda” like it’s a charm), he’s not evil for fun — he’s efficient, which is worse.

Maggie Mathison

Maggie is Carrie’s practical, exasperated-but-devoted sister who keeps the emotional plumbing functional while giving Carrie the side-eye she deserves. She has a moral spine and an amazing ability to shout your name across a room in a way that makes you feel chastened and loved at the same time. She’s not heroic in an explosives-and-espionage way — more like the hero who remembers to pay the bills, enroll the kid, and lecture you into behaving like a human. Also, she has a laugh that’ll crack concrete and a tendency to collect stray cats or stray opinions, sometimes both.

Dar Adal

Dar is the looming chessmaster with a voice like gravel and ethics that bend toward “whatever works,” which is both terrifying and so efficient. He’s paranoid by design, thinks in long games, and will absolutely manipulate anyone if the scoreboard looks right; also somehow loves old movies and probably keeps a bunker of vintage ties. He plays the long con with a smile and a single cold joke, and you can’t tell if he’s brilliant or just maliciously stubborn — probably both. He smells faintly of aftershave and inevitability, and will always make you question whether you were ever in control.

Max Piotrowski

Max is the lovable hacker-nerd with a propensity for snack drawers and an underdog heart so loud it’s distracting. He’s endlessly loyal to the people he cares about, socially awkward in adorable ways, and can fix your server while simultaneously offering unsolicited life advice about movies. He’s the smallest guy in the room who somehow knows more and cries less, mostly because he’s too busy soldering something and humming to himself. He collects weird action figures, hoards passwords like postcards, and is the emotional spine of the tech team whether he wants the credit or not.