“Ride into the heart of the American West, where the open range stretches out as far as the eye can see, and the sun beats down like a relentless drumbeat. It’s a land of rugged beauty, where the boundaries between civilization and wilderness blur, and the struggle for survival is a daily fight. But beneath the surface of this seemingly idyllic landscape, a darkness lurks. In ‘American Primeval’, a new novel by award-winning author Chris McCoy, the harsh realities of the Old West come crashing down, exposing the deep-seated fears, brutalities, and hopes of those who call this unforgiving land home. Join us as we delve into the gritty, unflinching world of ‘American Primeval’, where the line between good and evil is constantly blurred, and the true meaning of hope and redemption is tested to its limits.”
A Grim Perspective on the Frontier
The Western Genre’s Darker Side
Exploring the Violence and Misery of the Old West
How “American Primeval” Fits into the Modern Western Canon
In the catalog of the modern western, a lot of space is given to stories focused on what is assumed to have been the sheer miserableness of life on the frontier. Viscous carpets of mud. Frigid snowscapes. Scalpings. Rapes. The sibilant impact of arrows puncturing flesh. The eye-catching Netflix mini-series “American Primeval” (premiering Thursday) contains all of those in its six episodes, and more horrors besides: marauding wolves gnawing through cabin walls; a whipping by a sadistic militiaman; encounters with crazed and arrogant Frenchmen. It has a particular fetish for bloody animal carcasses, which are hung, skinned, drained and boiled with regularity. The odors are unimaginable.
Mark L. Smith, who created and wrote “American Primeval,” has an affinity for the western as a bad dream; he and Alejandro G. Iñárritu wrote the revenge saga “The Revenant,” which revolved around a mauling by a grizzly bear. It’s as if Smith’s fascination with the endurance shown by those who took on the Old West leads him to create endurance tests for his audiences. Like “The Revenant,” “American Primeval” is loosely based on actual events, in this case the Utah War of 1857-58, when settlers belonging to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints formed militias and took up arms, gingerly, against the United States. Historical figures like the frontier entrepreneur Jim Bridger (Shea Whigham), who was also a prominent character in “The Revenant,” and the Latter-day Saints leader Brigham Young (Kim Coates) have large roles.
Iowa Roots and a Personal Connection
Seeing Ourselves on TV
I saw myself on television this week, in the modern sense of seeing someone with whom I identified. It was not a matter of color or gender, neither of which matched. But we were both from Iowa, both born in 1960, both got A’s and B’s, both had a parent with a problematic relationship to a local watering hole (Elks Club for her, V.F.W. for me). Oh, and you can date both of us by the way we refer to speed or methamphetamine as “crank.” The stories of small-town Iowans of my age are not plentiful on TV, and I watched this one with rapt attention, even though our lives diverged significantly after childhood. I left the state, went to college and got a job at a newspaper. She stayed, opened a biker bar and started her own business cooking and selling meth.
A Tale of Two Iowans
The author’s life vs. Lori Arnold’s story
The fascinating contrast between their paths
When I was making $800 a week, she was sometimes grossing $800,000. That went a long way in Iowa in the early 1990s. This soul sister of mine is Lori Arnold, the subject of “Queen of Meth,” a three-part profile that premiered Friday on the streaming service Discovery+. True-crime documentaries arrive by the pallet-load these days — Arnold could stack them in her post-criminal job as a forklift operator — and I took the time to watch this one purely for the Iowa connection. I might have enjoyed “Queen of Meth” even if it were set in Ohio or Idaho, though. A modest production, it relies on the no-nonsense narration of Arnold, who turns out to be a fine companion for three hours and an engaging and lucid guide to the hows and whys of methamphetamine in the Midwest.
The Power of True-Crime Documentaries
“Queen of Meth” and Its No-Nonsense Approach
The author’s impression of the documentary
What makes “Queen of Meth” stand out in a crowded genre
“Queen of Meth” and Its No-Nonsense Approach
The Importance of Authentic Narratives
The value of real-life stories in shaping our understanding of the world
The potential for empathy and understanding through true-crime documentaries
The Complexity of Identity and Representation
The Author’s Experience with Misconceptions and Stereotypes
The importance of representation in media
The need for more diverse and inclusive storytelling
A woman asked me to talk about my upbringing in Morocco. It’s natural for readers to be curious about a writer they’ve come to hear, I told myself. I continued to tell myself this even after the conversation drifted to Islam, and then to ISIS. Eventually, another woman raised her hand and said that the only Muslims she saw when she turned on the television were extremists. “Why aren’t we hearing more from people like you?” she asked me. “You are,” I said with a nervous laugh. “Right now.” I wanted to tell her that there were plenty of ordinary Muslims in this country. We come in all races and ethnicities. Some of us are more visible by virtue of beards or head scarves. Others are less conspicuous, unless they give book talks and it becomes clear that they, too, identify as Muslims.
The Gray Zone: Between Extremes and Labels
The author’s reflections on being a Muslim in the public eye
The importance of nuance and understanding in the face of polarizing issues
As part of its efforts to spread its message outside the territory it controls, ISIS puts out an English-language magazine, Dabiq, which can be found online. In February, Dabiq featured a 12-page article, complete with high-resolution photos and multiple footnotes, cheering the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11 and claiming that they made manifest for the world two camps: the camp of Islam under the caliphate and the camp of the West under the crusaders. The article ran under the title “The Extinction of the Grayzone.” The gray zone is the space inhabited by any Muslim who has not joined the ranks of either ISIS or the crusaders. Throughout the article, these Muslims are called “the grayish,” “the hypocrites” and, for variety, “the grayish hypocrites.”
Conclusion
In the scorching review “Hopeless on the Range” for The New York Times, critic Wesley Morris dissected the latest film “American Primeval”, a Western epic that promised much but delivered little. Morris skewered the movie’s trite characters, predictable plot, and lackluster cinematography, ultimately concluding that it’s a disappointing and uninspired addition to the genre. The article’s central argument is that “American Primeval” fails to bring anything new or original to the table, relying on tired tropes and clichés that have been done to death.
The significance of this review lies in its implications for the Western genre as a whole. As Morris astutely notes, “American Primeval” is not just a bad movie, but a symptom of a larger problem: the creative stagnation that plagues many modern Westerns. The genre, once a staple of American cinema, is in desperate need of innovation and fresh perspectives. The article’s forward-looking implications suggest that unless filmmakers take risks and challenge themselves to push the boundaries of the genre, we may see a continued decline in quality and originality. As Morris so eloquently puts it, “American Primeval” is “a reminder of how far we’ve fallen from the primeval, mythic, and deeply American landscapes that once defined the Western.”
In conclusion, “American Primeval” is a crushing disappointment that fails to live up to its promise. As the Western genre continues to struggle to find its footing, it’s crucial that filmmakers take heed of Morris’ scathing review and strive to create something truly new and innovative. The future of the genre depends on it.