NCIS: Origins Season 2 Episode 1 Reveals Lala's Fate. Did She Make It or Not?

Critic’s Rating: 4.55 / 5.0

4.55

You’ve got to hand it to NCIS: Origins — they know how to mess with us. 

After the NCIS: Origins Season 1 finale left Lala bloodied, dangling upside down in her jeep, most of us figured that was it. There’s no way she could survive that crash and the NCIS timeline, right? 

After all, if she’d been such a big part of Gibbs’ past, surely she’d have been mentioned somewhere in the original series. But nope. Plot twist: she’s alive. And not only is she alive, but she’s the center of this story — the one Gibbs admits he never told.

“This is the story of her,” he says in that quiet, gravelly voiceover. I thought it was just a first-season throughline. But with the NCIS: Origins Season 2 premiere, there’s little wiggle room. 

This isn’t about revisiting Gibbs’ glory days. It’s a specific story tied to Lala. This is as much her story as it is his. And it suggests that his desire to keep those he truly loves at arm’s length to protect his heart will hurt him for decades to come.

On “The Funky Bunch,” we see just how deep that love runs, even when he refuses to name it.

Lala Lives — and So Does the Heart of the Show

Lala’s return reframes everything. The Gibbs we know from NCIS has always carried invisible scars, but now we’re seeing the origin of one — and it’s a doozy. 

He’s trying to play it cool, pretending she’s just another teammate back from medical leave, but his every move screams otherwise. 

The guy won’t even say hello when he sees her in the office. That’s not indifference. It’s not anger. It’s not even regret that he didn’t bother visiting her in the hospital. It’s self-preservation.

The irony is, it’s not working. He’s already halfway gone. His body language gives him away — the long looks, the awkward silences, the way he hovers between concern and distance. He wants to protect her, but not being with her is what’s killing him.

Then there’s Diane, the woman who will one day become his wife, and later his ex-wife, and the one after that. She’s here now, all affection and curiosity, trying to understand the man she now loves. 

But let’s be real: Diane never stood a chance. She loves that he’s so devoted to his work, that he can’t look away from a case once it grabs him. But the thing that draws her in is exactly what will destroy them. 

He’s not obsessed with justice. He’s obsessed with not losing people. And he already lost Lala — even if she’s standing right there. He’s chosen Diane because he’s not afraid to lose her, which is tragic for them both.

The Funky Bunch and a Dose of ’90s Absurdity

While Gibbs is quietly spiraling, the rest of the team is trying to get back on track. Or at least, they’re pretending to. 

Franks is at his wits’ end. Wheeler’s driving him up the wall. Randy’s stuck on desk duty, typing old case files into a computer like a human database. The team’s solving fewer cases, morale’s in the tank, and even Gary Callahan seems depressed.

And then — like a sign from the TV gods — comes Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch.

Randy’s obsession with “Good Vibrations” becomes the running joke of NCIS: Origins Season 2 Episode 1, but it’s also symbolic. 

This is a team trying to recapture its rhythm, and the song literally becomes the mechanism that carries them forward. 

Watching Franks and Wheeler try to make sense of Marky Mark and the Wahlberg family tree had me howling. “His last name’s Mark, and his mama named him Marky?” I immediately got the giggles. And “Wahlberg is his stage name??” might be the best line Franks has ever delivered.

It’s moments like this that keep Origins from being too heavy. Sure, there’s tragedy — a murdered Marine, guilt, buried trauma — but the humor lands where it needs to. That’s what made early NCIS great, and it’s what makes this prequel work.

Yes — exactly, and I’m glad you called that out because that distinction is everything. This episode isn’t about some Deliverance-style nightmare — it’s about failure of duty, and that’s where Gibbs’ moral compass locks in.

What really happened — and what makes “The Funky Bunch” such a strong premiere — is that it uses an urban legend (the “Range” where people supposedly hunt humans) as misdirection. 

The Case That Defines Gibbs

What makes this episode sing (see what I did there?) is the way it teases one kind of horror and delivers another.

For the first half, the investigation leans into campfire rumor — a spooky “Range” out in the middle of nowhere where people vanish, maybe even get hunted. But once the team gets boots on the ground, it’s clear that’s not the story. 

The real monster isn’t in the woods; it’s the arrogance and neglect of a fellow Marine who wanted to prove a point. 

Wade’s little “thumbtack test” — literally sending a kid into dangerous territory to see if he’d measure up — ends with Tommy dying alone, barefoot, and believing he’s disappointed the man he wanted to impress. 

That’s heartbreaking, and Gibbs saw it instantly.

By the time Gibbs and the team pieced it together — the clipped heel, the snare, the phone call that went unanswered — you can see the rage simmering beneath the surface. 

This is the kind of case that shapes Gibbs: a young man doing everything right and still dying because someone above him stopped believing in him. 

Gibbs doesn’t just solve it; he feels it. Every moment of the investigation is him reliving the moral failures that will one day define his own code.

The social commentary remains, but it’s not about backwoods weirdos.

It’s about people who are pushed out of their homes by developers and are trying to make a place for themselves, yet are still branded as too off-kilter for society. 

In the end, they were responsible for finding the killer. Tommy wasn’t killed for money or revenge or by a strange pack of backwoods weirdos, but for his damn sneakers.

That’s the kind of detail that sticks with Gibbs. It’s not the horror of it; it’s the senselessness and the casual cruelty. The way people can devalue life for something as stupid as a pair of shoes, or because they don’t have the physical attributes the other Marines expect.

It’s vintage Gibbs — seeing a world that keeps getting meaner and trying to make sense of it.

Lala’s Return Shakes Everything Loose

The real emotional center, though, isn’t the case. It’s Lala’s first day back.

Her reentry into the team is messy and awkward. Wheeler’s sitting at her old desk. Nobody knows what to say. Gibbs hovers like a ghost. And when they finally do interact — in that darkroom scene — it’s everything unsaid that hurts most. 

He apologizes for barging in, and she plays it cool, but her eyes say it all: You didn’t visit me in the hospital.

Yikes.

They talk like colleagues, but it’s a breakup in disguise. She congratulates him on Diane (“Randy told me”), and it’s so painfully polite you can feel both their walls go up another few feet. 

Then, when Gibbs offers to get her a rolling chair — a small act of care disguised as practicality — she refuses it. Because she knows what it means, and she doesn’t want pity.

She wants equality. She wants to be seen as strong again, especially by him.

So when she throws herself into the field against his wishes, you can’t even blame her. And when he stops her mid-chase to keep her from running into snares, she absolutely loses it. 

“Don’t you ever put your hands on me again,” she snapped. It took me aback, but it’s the kind of moment that sticks with you, because let’s face it, Gibbs needs Lala more than he wants her. And that’s a dangerous kind of love.

Franks Gets His Groove Back (and the Team Does Too)

For all the emotional weight, “The Funky Bunch” also feels like a course correction. 

Franks finally gets his team back in shape, Wheeler redeems himself (sort of), Randy gets promoted from data monkey to field agent again, and everyone ends the hour right where they belong — together.

Even Barrett, the bureaucratic thorn in their side, gets played when Wheeler and Randy hand him a printed report on fancy K-Mart paper proving they’ve tanked under his management. It’s hilarious, a little dumb, and exactly the kind of old-school nonsense that gives this show its personality.

And then, the moment we’ve all been waiting for: Randy jams his cassette single into the car’s player, “Good Vibrations” fills the air, and the team bursts into song. Even Gibbs surprises everyone while doing his best Marky Mark impression.

It’s goofy, heartfelt, and nostalgic all at once — the kind of sequence that makes you smile goofily through the threat of tears.

And the team ended on a high, taking down the Roach House on their sixth try, proving that together, they’re unstoppable.

Gibbs’ final voiceover ties it up beautifully: “Without any one part, a team doesn’t thrive.” And for the first time in what feels like forever, the team feels whole — even if the cracks are showing.

“The Funky Bunch” is a near-perfect premiere — emotionally grounded, surprisingly funny, and steeped in the kind of melancholy that defines Gibbs’ entire mythology. 

It’s a story about people trying to move forward without losing themselves — about love, guilt, and loyalty in all the messy ways they collide.

It’s also proof that NCIS: Origins isn’t afraid to stretch beyond fan service. Sure, we know Lala’s not in Gibbs’ future, but that’s what makes watching her story painful even when she’s strong. We’re watching him fall in love with someone he’s destined to lose — again.

And honestly, that’s good television.

So what about you? Are you relieved to see Lala alive and kicking? Do you have any theories about why we’ve never heard of her before Origins? 

Drop to the comments below and share your thoughts! And while you’re here, check out our coverage of NCIS and NCIS: Sydney, too!