If you’re a fan of gritty, violent Westerns set against a brutal, unforgiving landscape, American Primeval might initially seem like the perfect show for you. When I first heard about it, I was intrigued. Netflix has proven it can tackle ambitious historical dramas, and the premise sounded like something truly unique—a tense, high-stakes story of survival and conflict in the American frontier, where U.S. troops, the Mormon militia, and Native tribes collide. I went in expecting a gripping blend of action, historical commentary, and rich character work. By the end, though, I was left with mixed feelings, unable to shake the sense that the series didn’t quite live up to its potential.
What drew me in at first was the promise of a frontier story that didn’t shy away from the harsh realities of the time. I’ve always been fascinated by shows that challenge the romanticized portrayals of the Old West, and American Primeval seemed poised to do exactly that. It delivers on the brutality, no doubt about it. The show dives headfirst into the darkness of the era—violence, greed, and the human cost of Manifest Destiny are front and center. But while the premise is ambitious, the execution is uneven, leaving me more frustrated than impressed by the time I reached the finale.
One of the show’s biggest issues is its pacing. With only six episodes, it tries to tackle too many storylines, spreading itself thin and leaving characters underdeveloped. I found myself wanting to care more about Sara (Betty Gilpin) and her son Devin (Preston Mota), who are introduced as central figures, but their story often feels rushed and overshadowed by the sheer number of subplots. Sara is a fascinating character—a headstrong, fiercely devoted mother—but the show doesn’t give her enough quiet moments to let us truly connect with her. Devin, too, is caught in a whirlwind of events that feel more like plot devices than genuine character development.
I kept wondering what the series could have been if it had taken a more focused approach. There’s so much potential in the dynamics it sets up—between settlers and Native tribes, within the Mormon militia, and even among families struggling to survive in this unforgiving world. But instead of diving deeply into any one storyline, the show flits between them, creating a disjointed narrative that left me feeling emotionally detached. By the time the finale arrived, I realized I cared more about what could have been explored than about what actually unfolded on screen.
The visuals, too, are a mixed bag for me. On one hand, the show captures the stark, desolate beauty of the frontier. The muted, desaturated color palette perfectly mirrors the bleak tone of the story, stripping the world of anything that might feel overly romanticized. But on the other hand, the cinematography sometimes works against the narrative. The action sequences, in particular, often left me frustrated. The close, shaky shots and dramatic angles made it hard to follow what was happening, especially during the larger, chaotic battles. I get that the goal was to create an intimate, almost claustrophobic feel, but the result was disorienting. Instead of drawing me into the tension, it pushed me out of the moment. I wanted to fully immerse myself in the brutal beauty of the landscape, but the show didn’t let me.
And yet, there are moments where American Primeval shines. The cast is excellent, and I can’t say enough about Betty Gilpin’s performance. She brings a depth and intensity to Sara that made me wish the show had given her even more to work with. Taylor Kitsch’s Isaac Reed is another standout. There’s something magnetic about his character—a mix of danger, vulnerability, and charisma—that kept me intrigued even when the story didn’t quite deliver. Saura Lightfoot-Leon as Abish also deserves praise; her portrayal of a young Mormon woman caught in moral conflict added a layer of complexity that the series desperately needed. Still, for all their efforts, the cast is often let down by writing that doesn’t give them enough room to shine. Too many supporting characters feel like they exist to move the plot forward rather than as fully realized people, which was a real disappointment.
As someone who loves Westerns that challenge the genre’s conventions, I appreciated what American Primeval was trying to do. It’s clear the creators wanted to reject the nostalgia and glamor of classic Westerns, instead presenting a raw, unflinching look at the American frontier. The show has some powerful moments where it achieves this—moments that highlight the moral ambiguities and human cost of westward expansion. But for every moment that resonated, there were others that felt heavy-handed or overly familiar. It’s as though the series wanted to be groundbreaking but couldn’t fully escape the clichés of the genre.
The finale was where my frustration peaked. After all the buildup, I expected something that would tie the story together in a meaningful way, but it just didn’t land. A major emotional moment felt forced, and I couldn’t help but feel that the series had lost sight of its original promise. By the end, I wasn’t thinking about the characters or the themes—I was thinking about what could have been done differently to make the story work.
Still, I wouldn’t call American Primeval a complete failure. It’s a bold attempt to reimagine the Western, and there are flashes of brilliance throughout. But it’s also a reminder that ambition alone isn’t enough. Without a tighter focus and more time to develop its characters and storylines, the show ends up feeling more like a series of missed opportunities than a cohesive, compelling drama. If you’re a fan of brutal historical dramas and don’t mind a bit of chaos, you might find something to enjoy here. But for me, it was hard to look past the uneven storytelling and squandered potential.
Ultimately, American Primeval is a beautifully shot, occasionally gripping series that reaches for greatness but falls short. It left me conflicted—not because it was bad, but because it could have been so much more. I walked away feeling both impressed by its ambition and frustrated by its execution. If Netflix had given it more episodes or narrowed its focus, this could have been a truly epic Western. As it stands, it’s a bold but flawed experiment that leaves you wondering what might have been.
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Loved it
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