The Philosophical Verdict of the Frontier

Netflix’s latest six-episode miniseries, American Primeval, set in the Utah Territory circa 1857, is less a conventional Western and more a bloody, philosophical manifesto. From its opening moments, the voiceover of an Army captain, played by Lucas Neff, encapsulates the spirit of the entire work: “There is only brutality here.” This nihilistic refrain not only describes the Old West but serves as the guiding principle for the series itself, penned by Mark L. Smith (The Revenant) and directed by Peter Berg.

While human existence possesses an infinite emotional spectrum, Smith and Berg choose to paint their canvas almost exclusively with the color “brutality.” The ferocity is executed with intense precision, making American Primeval surprisingly effective initially, but ultimately leading to monotony. Despite featuring a talented ensemble cast (Taylor Kitsch, Betty Gilpin, Jai Courtney, Shea Whigham) buried under period-appropriate grime and scruffiness, the work undoubtedly delivers a visceral impact. Yet, it fails to offer any fresh insights, making it challenging to place alongside genre monoliths like Deadwood or Unforgiven.

The Crucible and the Core Motivation

The story unfolds in a furnace of conflict: zealous Mormons, pioneers driven by Manifest Destiny, Native American tribes losing their land, and a bumbling U.S. Army attempting to maintain order. The motivation for every character is fear, excessive zealotry, or the promise of limitless wealth.

The protagonist, Sara Rowell (Betty Gilpin), and her son Devin (Preston Mota), inadvertently stumble into the Fort Bridger area (managed by Shea Whigham’s Jim Bridger). They miss their escort and are forced to join a Mormon group led by Jacob Pratt (Dane DeHaan). This cruel twist of fate quickly leads to tragedy. Although the details of the Mountain Meadows Massacre require no research, the viewer can anticipate the inevitable bloodshed.

The mother-son duo’s flight from the pursuing Mormons—and from the bounty hunters led by Jai Courtney’s Virgil—finds only faint hope with Isaac (Taylor Kitsch), a grumpy mountain man, and Two Moons (Shawnee Pourier), a mute Shoshone girl with a violent past.

Form Overwhelming Content

Peter Berg continues to demonstrate his muscular directing capability. His straightforward, blunt approach has made his previous projects successful. Here, he injects vitality into familiar Western iconography, allowing American Primeval to stand out. The Mountain Meadows Massacre scene is a technical spectacle: a horrifying symphony of whizzing arrows and curdling screams.

However, the visual sophistication peaks in the first episode, alongside the shallow (though not entirely inaccurate) insight into the era. The 1857 West is depicted as a desperate and miserable land, rife with gangrenous wounds, rarely rotated attire, lice-infested beards, and freshly butchered meat. While it is easy to be disgusted by the environment, viewers struggle to find empathy. The script often relies on the threat of scalping or sexual violence (an inherent part of almost every female character’s story) to create tension, rather than making the audience care about individual destinies.

The Unpredictable Future

American Primeval has achieved significant success on the Netflix charts, indicating high demand for the intense Western genre. Despite initially being labeled a miniseries (typically lasting only one season), its unexpected popularity has opened the door for continuation.

From Conclusion to Prequel

Director Peter Berg has confirmed that internal discussions about a Season 2 are ongoing. But rather than a sequel, the more intriguing idea proposed is a prequel.

Berg expressed particular interest in expanding the story of the character Isaac (Taylor Kitsch), describing him as “ripe for a prequel series.”

However, this plan faces a practical challenge. The writer/actor strikes forced a five-month production hiatus, during which young actors like Preston Mota (who plays Devin) underwent rapid puberty (gaining three inches in height, with a dropped voice). This physical change makes maintaining timeline continuity in a prequel complicated.

In summary, American Primeval is a powerful and bleak visual experience. Yet, if you spend six episodes talking about the nihilistic brutality of the Old West, only to conclude by reaffirming that nihilistic brutality (even ironically sampling “This Land Is Your Land” in the score), you haven’t truly taken the audience on much of a journey. The question now is whether a prequel focusing on Isaac can find a deeper meaning beyond pure violence.