‘American Primeval’ Review: Betty Gilpin Leads Netflix’s Relentlessly Brutal Peter Berg-Helmed Western Miniseries

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As a gamer, I’d say that diving into the world of “Leviathan” by Thomas Hobbes, he painted a vivid picture of what life in a pre-civilization era would be like – “lone, impoverished, filthy, harsh, and brief.

In the Netflix miniseries, “American Primeval,” set on the Western frontier of civilization around 1857, a captain character portrayed by Lucas Neff makes things clear. He pens a rather self-important letter that also serves as voiceover, saying, “There is nothing but brutality here.” (Note: I tried to maintain the original tone while making it more natural and easy to read.)

This nihilistic perspective on human nature and the Old West could just as well be relevant to the film “American Primeval“, a work that shares its roots with Mark L. Smith, a past chronicler of Western brutality (as seen in “The Revenant“) and director Peter Berg.

Endowed with a broad spectrum of human emotions, Smith and Berg predominantly paint their work with “cruelty,” displaying a gruesome, intense attention to detail that keeps American Primeval engaging for a while, but eventually becomes repetitive. Featuring a talented cast hidden beneath authentic layers of grime and roughness, the production carries a powerful physical impact and is likely to appeal to an audience primed by Taylor Sheridan. However, it falls short of offering any unique perspectives that would position it among the classics of the well-worn genre such as Deadwood, Godless, or Unforgiven.

The narrative unfolds in Utah Territory, a region marked by escalating strife among Mormons striving for Zion, ambitious pioneers pursuing Manifest Destiny, Native American communities being gradually marginalized from their ancestral lands, and the U.S. military tasked with preserving order. Motivated by fear, fanaticism, or dreams of untold riches, these settlers find themselves in a harsh reality where life is unrelentingly lonely, impoverished, cruel, violent, and brief.

Sara Rowell (Betty Gilpin) and her son Devin (Preston Mota) reach Fort Bridger, a relatively neutral spot managed by Jim Bridger (Shea Whigham). Sara is on her way to meet her husband further inland, but she’s lost her traveling group. Bridger advises her that “civilization and civilized are two distinct entities,” and helps Sara join a small Mormon group led by Jacob Pratt (Dane DeHaan) and his wife Abish (Saura Lightfoot Leon), who are heading towards the same destination. However, beware that the events ahead may lead you to the Mountain Meadows Massacre if you choose to look it up. In essence, expect a harsh and complex situation involving a Mormon militia and some unruly Shoshone warriors.

Shortly, Sara and Devin stumble upon an event that the Mormons, including Brigham Young (portrayed by Kim Coates with an air of righteousness), would prefer they didn’t see. Not too far down the line, the Mormons start chasing the Rowells, who are also being pursued by multiple bounty hunters, one of which is a group led by Jai Courtney as Virgil. It seems Sara and Devin aren’t so much seeking a new life as they are trying to escape their old one.

The sole individuals capable of assisting Sara and Devin are Isaac, a gruff mountain dweller, and Two Moons, a silent Shoshone girl who is escaping from a turbulent history of her own.

I will consistently admire Berg’s directorial style, even on a fundamental level. His straightforward approach played a significant role in making Netflix’s Painkiller a more impactful anti-Sackler critique than the widely acclaimed Dopesick. In American Primeval, he infuses traditional Western imagery with an electrifying intensity, setting it apart from the majority of the hastily produced Sheridan/Yellowstone series. Berg’s portrayal of the Mountain Meadows Massacre is disconcerting, nightmarish, and chillingly immersive, a masterful orchestra of whizzing arrows and chilling screams. While the scenes of lone riders traversing the prairies or shots of snowy mountain passes may not be particularly innovative, Berg has clearly been influenced by John Ford and Robert Altman, and he skillfully executes genre tropes with flair. The film’s atmosphere is further enhanced by a gritty and ominous score from frequent collaborator Explosions in the Sky.

As a gamer, I must admit that the initial episode of this game is visually stunning, with an intriguing, albeit superficial, portrayal of life in 1857 Utah. It’s clear that this era was filled with misery, and Berg manages to encapsulate the stench of gangrene, the repetitive clothing, the lice-ridden beards, and the constant smell of freshly slaughtered meat. There are plenty of things to find repulsive or disturbing, but it’s challenging to find characters to empathize with – a stark contrast to Berg’s earlier works like Friday Night Lights. Regrettably, the scripts often rely on the imminent threat of scalping or sexual violence, which seems to be a defining aspect for almost every female character in the game. This tactic appears to be more about inciting viewers to crave retaliation rather than caring about individual characters.

American Primeval” may face criticism from Mormons and advocacy groups representing Native Americans due to its portrayal of the U.S. military as pompous, ineffective, but somewhat clean. Among the Mormon characters, Abish is the most relatable and least dogmatic. Some Shoshone characters are depicted positively, although their dialogue may consist only of “ululating” sounds. The cast features a mix of fictional and historical figures, all portrayed as gloomy and ultimately meeting similarly pessimistic, or perhaps ironic, ends.

If Hobbes’ viewpoint is often portrayed as supporting authority or rule, American Primeval appears to embrace the roughness for the sake of camaraderie. It leans towards the outcasts – Whigham’s Bridger offers blunt humor, Kitsch’s Isaac exhibits a hint of Eastwood-like stoicism, and Gilpin’s Sara shows early signs of feminism. These performances were particularly captivating for me, though Leon, with her feisty demeanor and inexplicable storyline, also stands out. Initially, I found Dane DeHaan’s role to be surprisingly casual and ordinary; however, that didn’t persist throughout the series.

In the style of DeHaan’s acting, everything in “American Primeval” seems to pull towards the grim and undeniably brutal. The ending can either be seen as a strong reinforcement of what preceded it if one was already invested, or a redundant and overly predictable rehash of what came before. I find myself leaning towards the latter. If you spend five episodes emphasizing the nihilistic brutality of the Old West, only to reach a finale where you expose the same nihilistic brutality – with music reminiscent of “This Land Is Your Land” – it feels like you haven’t offered much in terms of a unique exploration or journey for your audience, don’t you think?

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2025-01-09 11:25