Review: American Primeval

Peter Berg's grim revisionist Western is a grotesque drama that is hollow, nasty, and only occasionally peppered with potential realised.

⭐⭐

Following the philosophical leanings of Deadwood and fellow Netflix gem Godless, Peter Berg’s eye-catching but deeply horrible American Primeval offers a bold attempt to bring the western back to its gritty, hopeless roots. Men and women lost to the road, religious turmoil boiling over into all-out war, disease ravaging communities, gold concealed but never found, souls broken and bodies buried. These atrocities colour the series from the first frame; in the “wild and untamed” plains of Utah, circa 1857, there is no light, there are no heroes, there is no god.

Split into three stories, the miniseries spends six episodes exploring a host of different characters as they fight their demons, search for peace, and hold on for dear life as the world falls into despair around them. The main storyline concerns Sara Rowell (Betty Gilpin), a desperate mother who hires tracker Isaac (Taylor Kitsch) to escort her to her husband’s recent gold claim; another concerns Mormon leader Brigham Young (Kim Coates) and his growing animosity toward frontiersman Jim Bridger (Shea Whigham); and the other follows a Native American tribe seeking refuge from Mormon-led massacres plaguing their people.

The tone of each of these stories is set within the show’s first sequence, when Sara and her son arrive at a trading post looking for a guide to take them to Alabama, and within minutes five men are brutally shot dead because of miscommunication that feels forced to bring violence rather than depth to the characters involved. Such is the key problem that follows the show throughout its run. Mark L. Smith’s scripts are haphazard, jarringly overstuffed, and the volume of violence would be comical were it not so horrendously bleak and needlessly bloody. The action buries its performers at every turn, and their characters can’t break through their clichés.

Take Sara, for example. Gilpin is great in the role, though only in short bursts. Under her motherly care, Sara is a woman haunted, hunted by her past and desperately looking for a bright future. But every time the show starts to probe her secrets, another onslaught of violence is unleashed, like when she starts to open up to grizzled survivor Isaac only to find herself centre stage to a shocking massacre. Isaac isn’t much better, and though Kitsch is often a dependable presence for these kind of roles — the moody, wounded loners — Smith’s scripts never allow him to bring anything to the role but gnarly snarls and sad eyes.

It’s this constant retreat into shock value that holds American Primeval back, because when good things rear their head, they’re quickly overshadowed. More than once I found myself forced to rewind certain scenes where dialogue, though never entirely compelling, is finally offered in a substantial way. Most of the show’s best dialogue can be found with Kim Coates and Shea Whigham, though that’s rather due to their talent than the words they’re reciting. (For what it’s worth, Coates and Whigham are two of the most underrated character actors working today, too good to be faulted by weak writing.)

Is this depravity real, or necessary? I’d wager not. Unlike Deadwood, the action here is unearned, sloppy, a stylistic choice rather than a compelling plot device. It’s a show that revels in its horrors, with Berg and Smith desperate to tell audiences how awful things in the Wild West were; the way it leans into the dark side, you can’t escape the fact that the creatives behind it all are only focussed on one thing, on playing out violent fantasies, holding on tight to clichéd visions of America’s past.

There are specks of brilliance here-and-there, mind you. Not just with the performances, but with the brief moments of social commentary that the characters relay to the audience. You can see the tragedy of the west in the way Isaac surveys his surroundings and keeps his cards tight to his chest; you can see years of oppression and distrust in the eyes of young Indigenous runaway Two Moons (Shawnee Pourier), every time she glances a new player. You also can’t escape the villainy at play, especially when it comes to Young and Bridger’s political clashes, which Coates and Whigham effortlessly chew up.

Another high comes from the historical accuracy, which proves rare here but still shows itself from time to time. There is, for example, a certain admirability in the way Smith explores the divisions between different Native American tribes, and how the Church of the Latter-Day Saints (led by Young) committed so many atrocities against them. Thanks in large part to a vast team of researchers, this particular story feels considered, though only to an extent given the violence and torture its characters endure, and the way this leaves even the most compelling figures in play (namely an otherwise brilliant Shawnee Pourier).

It also looks pretty great at times, even though Berg, who’s always preferred choppy editing, rapid cuts and short frame times, keeps getting in the way with his action sequences. Cinematographer Jacques Jouffret captures a glorious world in his shots, complete with gorgeous scenery that hides plenty of menace and death, and there are certain moments — like an early tracking shot that follows the peaks and valleys of the west in all its glory and decay — that know what the show should have been. More contemplative, character-driven, focussed. More human.

In the end, though, American Primeval is too morose, too much, too violent for its own good. Like greater westerns of the small screen, mainly Deadwood and Godless, Berg’s vision would have worked better with more patience and clearer intentions. It aims to shock and stack up the horrors to an uncomfortable degree, but this proves fatal; the story being told has such a wealth of potential and stimulating character work, but all of it is buried. Instead, what we’re left with a shocking six-hour display of hopelessness and violence, as hollow and dishonest as it is disappointing and dull.

That’s all for now. Be good to each other, and I’ll see you soon!