‘American Primeval’ review: Can Netflix’s grimy Western mini-series best ‘Yellowstone’?

American Primitive It’s a decently entertaining action film, although the concept is quite interesting. The Netflix miniseries, created by Mark L. Smith and directed by Peter Berg, features a seasoned ensemble playing mostly familiar archetypes during the struggle for the American West before the Civil War. However, he lacks anything resembling angst in his Hollywood Western roots, which complicates his chances of being cornered mail-Yellowstone market (along with the last many rotate–weekend). All that remains is a shell of a beloved genre, told in harsh, chaotic tones rarely seen on screen.

Numerous plot lines of the series are connected by a terrible accident, but nothing more. It’s a brutal saga, although its brutality wears off quickly. This applies to both physical brutality and the many violent ideologies in its crosshairs, from white supremacy and religious fundamentalism to a general penchant for war. But that they’re so openly on display in this unapologetically bleak show is a welcome surprise, given the setting and storytelling style otherwise steeped in nostalgia. Even though the threads of the series develop haphazardly, the series is never boring and never cries for good performances.

What’s happened American Primitive O?

Story American Primitiveset in the winter of 1857, it is based on real places and events, although with the necessary dramatization. With a bounty on her head for an alleged murder, wealthy mother Sarah Rowell (Betty Gilpin) flees Philadelphia with her teenage son Devin (Preston Mota) to meet her husband out west. But upon arriving at Fort Bridger—a veritable outpost of the Wyoming fur trade on the Oregon Trail—she learns that her guide has already left, leaving her desperate to seek safe passage wherever she can find it.

The fort is located near volatile conflicts between numerous factions. The Shoshone tribe is one of the few forced from their native land by constant war. A ruthless Mormon militia patrols the area near Utah under the orders of the expansionist and extremist preacher Governor Brigham Young (the terrifying Kim Coates). Meanwhile, conscientious US Army Captain Edmund Dellinger (Lucas Neff) tries to keep the peace, but he becomes increasingly cynical about the possibility of coexistence (as we are often reminded through his numerous voiceover diary entries).

The above groups only make up about half of the series’ characters, each of whom is revealed gradually through very straightforward exposition. Then there’s the lone outlaw Sarah turns to for help, the lonely and brooding Isaac (Taylor Kitsch), who shares a history with the Shoshone. On her trail are bounty hunters led by Virgil Cutter (Jai Courtney), a leader whose callousness belies his more empathetic protégé Lucas (Andrew P. Logan).

There are various militias and Mormon leaders, as well as civilian Mormons who are just trying to find their way unscathed. Some of the latter end up unintentionally attacked while traveling with a large caravan, including newlyweds Abish Pratt (Saura Lightfoot-Leon) and her husband Jacob (Dane DeHaan), whose increasingly bloody and disheveled appearance with each episode is just as laughable funny, just like Homer Simpson. hitting endless rocks and tree branches. And, of course, there’s Jim Bridger himself, founder of the aforementioned fort, played with skill and panache by the always charming Shea Whigham.

The series also features a number of Indigenous characters who, although they are rarely allowed to step outside the strict confines of plot function… American Primitive is anti-Western in every way, but it still demonstrates a battering of humanity and spirit. There’s the young, taciturn Shoshone girl Two Moons (Shawnee Puryear), runaway Sara and Devin, and the rogue Shoshone warrior Red Feather (Derek Hinkie), who forms his own tribe intent on trading blood for blood. If the latter is very similar to the central character in the Kevin Costner novel Horizon: An American Saga – Chapter 1its appearance isn’t the only time you’ll make this comparison.

If anything, the show seems like a morbid and cynical response to Horizonseries of films that Costner left behind Yellowstone to create, and one that grapples with the violence inherent in America’s founding myths while grimly clinging to a folkloric image of the nation’s past. American Primitive it’s easier for him to take off his rose-colored glasses, and he even goes so far as to use arrangements of Woody Guthrie’s famous folk song”This land is your land“with a deep ironic effect. However, it suffers from the same difficulties as Costner’s film when it comes to switching between numerous characters.

American Primitive progressive, but uneven.

The show’s structure and plot may reflect Costner’s Western epic, but its closest aesthetic cousin is actually Alejandro González Iñárritu’s brutal winter Western. Survivor (which Mark L. Smith wrote, among others) and, in terms of frantic editing, Star wars JJ Abrams films. The second comparison is mostly complimentary. American Primitive attacks with reckless abandon, leaving no room to consider the actual time and space between people scattered across different parts of the landscape. This isn’t always a good thing, but it does mean that every new plot development is always just around the corner and the characters are always ready to stumble upon each other’s stories.

On the other hand, the characters’ lack of actual travel time or any downtime, even for six hours, doesn’t leave much room for them to grow and develop. Gilpin and Kitsch, for example, are suitably dour, leading to Jane Austen-style romantic tension, but who they are as people is established from minute one and remains frozen in stasis throughout the story. The same is true for most of the characters, with the exception of DeHaan, who has the advantage of being changed by physical trauma. No one is actually affected or affected in a human way by many of the show’s events.

However, the action is usually fun to watch, from brutal shootouts in continuous takes to brutal hand-to-hand combat in close combat. Emmanuel Lubezki Oscar-winning cinematography for Survivor there was clearly a prototype here, with short-lens close-ups distorting space and heightening the impact of everything from blood to spit, all covered in snow. The first episode is wonderfully chaotic, with quick cuts and poor Dutch camera angles throwing everything off balance as civilians come under attack. Unfortunately, this visual approach in the series ends up being somewhat unintelligible, even during mundane conversations.

The show’s washed-out palette and pervasive dirt and grime portray America’s childhood as a time of petty squabbles without absolution—contrary to much of the country’s mythology about itself. However, the series also provides a kind of narrative support that prevents it from falling into complete despair: the American dream is, in some ways, still alive, but it has been pushed back to the four walls of Fort Bridger.

Focused metaphors in American Primitive almost work.

The fort, which appears early in the series and provides a frequent respite from the action, exists much in the spirit of the lawless Wild West of cinema, with its saloons, shootouts and hangings. But it is also representative of the American ideal. It’s the only place in the series where characters from all walks of life and backgrounds (white, indigenous, etc.) can come together, take refuge from religious extremism, and have a real chance at life.

It’s also the center of a wonderful, gripping climax that revels in the slow decline of said ideals, giving the show a perfect ending – or it would have if the series had chosen to end on that symbolic note. Instead, it returns to one of the many ongoing narratives so Person A can dive into Story B and wrap up Subplot C, much of which has been running around for several episodes.

Bye American Primitive sometimes makes clever use of its metaphors, for the most part it’s a banal and obvious show about the trickle-down effects of the past. For example, Cutter Courtney, speaking to Sarah, almost turns to the camera to utter the line: “Our present circumstances are a reflection of our past decisions.” The problem with this presentation – aside from its completely literal nature – is that this theme, like all the others, is established in the first episode and is never dramatically transformed.

American Primitive may be prescient in its premise, with an obvious deconstruction of national history and self-image. However, as a result of its execution, little can be said beyond the broad strokes of human selfishness causing pain and suffering. You learn it from the start, so you know exactly what show you’ll be in from now on, but there’s not much left to learn. So even his subversion of traditional Hollywood tropes and American myth-making feels oddly familiar and comfortable at the end.

American Primitive streaming now on Netflix.