This show? It’s a wild ride. Harold Finch, a brainy programmer, teams up with John Reese, a tough ex-CIA guy. Together, they stop crimes before they happen in New York City. They meet all sorts of characters- detectives, agents and bad guys. It dives into big topics like surveillance and privacy. A real thinker, right?

Meet the characters from Person of Interest

John Reese

John is that quiet storm — ex-agent, doer, brooding protector who somehow looks better in a trench coat than anyone else on TV; he’s all restraint and sudden, devastating action. He gives one-liners when it’s convenient (or when he forgets to be serious), and he’s secretly a softie with dogs and bad jukebox music—don’t tell him I said that. He moves like someone who’s been punched by life and learned to take the hit and keep walking, but also smiles in an almost criminally rare way that makes everyone pause. There’s this weird mix of lethal efficiency and accidental tenderness (like ordering the wrong sandwich for a partner and then feeling guilty for a week).

Joss Carter

Carter is the moral center who’s also got gumption and an eye for unfairness; she’s fiercely principled, sharp, and has a way of cutting through nonsense with a single look. She can be by-the-book to a fault and then, surprisingly, bend the rules when justice needs a shove — pragmatic idealist, basically. Also, she drinks too much coffee and will scold you for rolling your eyes, but then she’ll quietly hand you backup when things go sideways; she’s the person you want on your side and probably the one who will hand you a charged magazine if you need it. There’s a warmth under the badge that pops up in little ways—remember the way she treats kids? Ugh, love her.

Harold Finch

Finch is the brainy, awkward sandwich of genius and crippling anxiety — a soft-spoken recluse who built something godlike and then tried to keep it hidden with a bow tie and an uneasy smile. He’s moral to a fault (and then some), endlessly scheming five steps ahead while over-apologizing for breaking a toaster, and simultaneously terrifying in how calmly he talks about probabilities that would melt anyone else. He collects odd little things (vintage watches? lightbulbs? I can’t remember) and has this ridiculous, adorable tendency to underplay the apocalypse. It’s like watching a chessmaster who also refuses to break a rule he invented, and you just want to hug him and also take notes.

Lionel Fusco

Fusco is the grumpy, lovable ex-cop-turned-ally who started shady and then redeemed himself in the loudest, messiest way possible; he’s rough around the edges, but loyal to his core. He mutters sarcastic asides, scratches his head, and is secretly the team’s emotional barometer (and also a sucker for a bad TV drama). He’ll joke to deflect and then do something heroic in the dullest, most practical way — like saving the day with a flat tire and a dumb grin. There’s a tendency to contradict himself (claims he hates paperwork but has an obsessive stapler collection?) which just makes him feel human.

Root

Root is gloriously unhinged in the most brilliant way — worshipper of the Machine, part anarchist, part philosopher, entirely terrifying and seductively charismatic. She’s playful, violent, and infuriatingly precise, with this habit of naming things (and people) like they’re characters in her personal myth; also she eats apples with the peel still on, because tiny rebellious details. She can switch from tender (!) to terrifying in a breath, and she delights in being the chaos everyone secretly needed. Everything about her feels like a puzzle you want to both solve and be wary of — and she knows that and smiles.

Sameen Shaw

Shaw is the deadpan assassin with a heart she won’t admit she has — clinically blunt, hyper-competent, and somehow the least interested in feelings and yet inexplicably sentimental about a certain dog. She says she doesn’t care, then memorably cares about one or two things and will protect them like a fortress; it’s ridiculous and adorable and also a little alarming. She’s got weird hobbies (collects action figures? hates romantic comedies but knows every line?) and a face that says “murder, maybe, if you insist.” Basically, you’re getting a walking, talking paradox who will deliver one-liners mid-operation and then fold her favorite doll back into a drawer like nothing happened.