‘American Primeval’ Review: Taylor Kitsch and Betty Gilpin Find Blood in a Hopeless Place

With America already on fire just a few days into the year when a convicted felon will ascend to the country’s highest office for a second time, few among us need any additional reminders that life in the United States often feels dangerous, daunting, and devoid of basic human decency. Sitting on the precipice of a billionaire oligarchy, watching the funeral of our most principled, self-sacrificing president, it’s easy to contend things are only getting worse, but Peter Berg’s latest episodic endeavor (alongside “Friday Night Lights” bud Taylor Kitsch) is here to tell you otherwise.

Things aren’t getting worse. America has always been awful. It only seems so bad right now because it’s our turn to live through hell.

Written by Mark L. Smith (“The Revenant,” “Twisters”), “American Primeval” is a familiar western tale making a big, broad statement about how the “wild and untamed” lands of Utah in 1857 help explain the current state of the world, while relying on its inordinate violence to simultaneously emphasize the story’s despondent point of view and separate Netflix’s six-episode series from other stories like it. Along the way, there are hopeful moments of an imagined future better than the characters’ nightmarish present, usually set to a plinky, plunky score by Explosions in the Sky (who Berg also worked with on “Friday Night Lights”). But it’s no spoiler to say those moments tend to end with a cruel reminder the American dream is just that: an optimist’s reverie that gives in to reality like a human skull to a discharged bullet.

Sound fun? Of course not, but there are fleeting amusements in store for viewers feeling particularly masochistic this winter. Set amid the Utah War — when the United States Army fought the Mormon Militia (led by Governor Brigham Young) amid regular battles between Indigenous people and pioneers — “American Primeval‘s” primary story follows Sara (Betty Gilpin), a wife and mother who’s traveled across the country to reach her husband in Crooks Springs. Unfortunately, the train tracks haven’t been built to support safe passage that deep into Utah, and the guide Sara hired to take her the rest of the way left without her, since she and her son, Devin (Preston Mota), arrived weeks behind schedule.

So, she goes looking for a new guide at Fort Bridger, run by the gruff but fair Jim Bridger (Shea Whigham, sporting an exquisite beard). With only a few trustworthy men floating through the sloppy, makeshift, take-all-comers outpost, Jim pairs Sara with Isaac (Taylor Kitsch), an even gruffer and fairer man who nonetheless wants nothing to do with the difficult gig. Traveling to Crooks Springs means crossing a rocky mountain range that’s considered impassable at this time of year — not only because of the fierce weather, but also the escalating tensions between Mormons, the U.S. Army, and locals of all sorts. Isaac stops short of calling it a suicide mission, but that’s only because he stops short of saying much of anything, so long as his point has been taken.

Still, as is wont to happen in stories like these, Sara and Isaac end up doing exactly what he asks, only under conditions even worse than he predicted. Young’s Mormon marauders are portrayed as a state-sanctioned cult, happy to murder anyone deemed a threat to their territory, control, or God-given cause. The U.S. Army is all that stands between them and a 19th century Crusade, although the indigenous tribes are none to happy about either party stomping all over their land and framing them for pioneer massacres. If it seems like everyone is everyone else’s enemy, that’s because they are — a lesson “American Primeval” repeats in every iteration it can imagine.

Betty Gilpin in ‘American Primeval’Courtesy of Matt Kennedy / Netflix

To its credit, the series’ action scenes are exactly as evocative as intended. Vivid and jarring, Berg (who directs all six episodes) often sets his camera down in dirt, right in the middle of an attack, with a main participant centered in the frame and potential harm flooding in from all angles. Arrows zip by, horses race through, and bullets fly from every which way. People swing hatchets into heads as hard and fast as they’ll throw their full bodies into an enemy. Men are scalped, women are executed, and kids are hurt bad enough for their ensuing recovery to be seen as torture. “American Primeval” promises danger is a pervasive part of life, and that promise is more than substantiated by what’s shown.

Gilpin does a fine job, especially in early episodes, adding nuance to a character who’s often simply scared or resilient. Kitsch’s role comes with an even narrower spectrum — Isaac is a man who “turned [his] back on the world so [he] never has to worry about losing anyone else again” — but he knows how to play anguished and angry with the best of ’em. Whigham is the clear standout, bringing his everyman charms to a good ol’ boy who can match any tough talk thrown in his direction (and top it with action, as necessary), while Dane DeHaan and Jai Courtney stick with extreme and mild versions of deranged to equally forgettable effect. Saura Lightfoot-Leon, as a rebellious Mormon wife, fairs well in her fierce, deepening determination to break things, as does Shawnee Pourier, as a mute young indigenous refugee, Two Moons, but it’s hard to build up too much admiration for the performances within an unrelenting dirge.

For genre purists, “American Primeval” will satiate your need for a handsomely mounted western, but for everyone else, it’s unlikely to be worth the journey. Midway through the first episode, Jim mentions the potential upside of a sad situation, to which Isaac replies, “You’re probably right, but don’t tell me about it. I’ve reached my fill of such things.” Haven’t we all.

Grade: C-

“American Primeval” premieres Thursday, January 9 on Netflix. All six episodes will be released at once.