No Redemption on the Western Frontier...

 

Peter Berg's American Primeval has been a dark, grim viewing experience. With dozens killed in the first eighty minutes of Netflix's limited series, this violent snapshot of life in the contested American West spares no feelings and pulls no punches. The narrative exposition reveals that the American military, the Mormon militia, the various indigenous populations, and the pioneer groups pushing west are literally at each other's throats (and scalps) in a race to claim their own small piece of North American real estate.

It's a dirty, gritty production, alternating between a sprawling, windswept landscape and a rugged, mountainous setting. Director of Photography Jacques Jouffret does a masterful job of capturing these environments. The shots feel washed out and hyper-realistic, not unlike the unfiltered realism inherenent in Alejandro Inarittu's masterpiece The Revenant (2015). Indeed, these works share a kinship in their violence, mise-en-scene, pacing, and quest for redemption.

Sara Rowell (Betty Gilpin) is a mother hell-bent on a mission to relocate her son from Philadelphia to a western outpost called Crooks Springs. An urbanite with a lot to learn, Rowell is carrying her own set of heavy personal baggage. She is an outlaw and a fugitive, and her pursuit spices the drama with some important narrative urgency. Somewhere between the third and fourth episodes (which become downright surreal when they stumble upon a camp of French maniacs), she undergoes a character transformation and stops making foolish, headstrong decisions in an effort to merely keep herself and her son still breathing. Honestly, it's a miracle they survived the Mountain Meadows Massacre to begin with, given their green attitudes about life on the frontier.

The series has sparked some controversy in its depiction of the much-analyzed Mountain Meadows Massacre. I was born in Utah, and my dad and sister were born in Salt Lake City. Utah's a wonderful place and I have a deep and abiding respect for those practicing the Mormon religion, although our family has always been solidly Presbyterian. The tensions depicted here--between Mormons and those practicing other versions of Christianity--remains very real in Utah. Heck, one need only look at the name of the frequent football clash between the University of Utah and Brigham Young University (the call it The Holy War) to get a sense of how these long-held prejudices still endure in the region.

Many years ago, I read Jon Krakauer's superb Under the Banner of Heaven. The book features a long, heavily detailed passage on the circumstances and residual influences of the Mountain Meadows Massacre. Years ago, on a fly-fishing trip to Bend, Oregon, I had a spirited fireside discussion with a devout Mormon about both that book and the massacre, and while we enjoyed some excellent theological and historical discourse, the big takeaway for me was that those in the Mormon church still deny the presence and participation of the Mormon militia in that sordid affair. If you'd like to learn more about one of the primary historical threads fueling American Primeval, I suggest you read Krakauer's book. You won't regret the decision...

Isaac Reed (an excellent, understated turn by Taylor Kitsch) is a reluctant guide, thrust into the role of steward for Rowell and her son, Devin (Preston Mota). Joined by the mute character Two Moons (Shawnee Pourier), an exiled Native American seeking her own shot at safety and independence, they make for a strange party. The casting in this series is uniformly excellent, with a fine ensemble cast that capably depicts the savagery of the era with stoic acceptance.

And savage it is. The series is replete with murder, rape, mayhem, and a shocking early hanging. It's this casual indifference toward violence that is so shocking, as countless characters seemingly navigate life well into their middle age (well, except for all of the children and women murdered in that early massacre, of course) only to find an arrow or a bullet in their brains at the drop of a hat.

It's easy to suspend disbelief and chalk it up to the era and the circumstances of westward expansion, but one need only to look to places like Russia, Ukraine, Palestine, and Israel to understand that we're still fighting these same battles--with the same disdain for the sanctity of human life--in 2025.

American Primeval isn't perfect. It's a dramatization, after all, and very few Hollywood productions can truthfully stake a claim to absolute historical accuracy. But it's a fine, compelling series that compels the viewer into deeper contemplation when the screen goes blank.

And in this--the era of repetitive superhero schlock--that's a win for Berg and his capable cast and crew...

January Reads and Recommendations: The Thicket

While it's impossible to say that I've read everything Champion Mojo Storyteller Joe R. Lansdale has written (the man is insanely prolific!), I will note that I've read the majority of his catalogue. Lansdale is one of the greatest living writers, and his oeuvre ramble over every genre--from southern-fried bizarro to horror to action to noir, and on into literary fiction and beyond. Lansdale excels in the field of gripping westerns, and this novel is a perfect introduction into his superior work in that narrative province.

The Thicket is an action-packed revenge drama. Written in the first-person from the amiable--if green--perspective from our narrator Jack Parker, the book opens up with a few scenes of subtle familial loss. Things take a turn when Jack and his sister Lula encounter a pack of outlaws on a ferry as they try to cross the swollen Sabine River. From there, things get a little dicey as Jack is tasked with hunting down his sister and exacting a measure of revenge for his fallen grandfather. 

This is Champion Joe at his best. The novels pacing and attention to scenery is immaculate. I've read this one twice, and both experiences had me turning pages well past it was time to rest my head for the night. Lansdale's dialogue is some of the best in the business, and he builds similes and metaphors into the writing with such ease that we learn so much about about the philosophies and fears of these characters that it feels like we're riding through East Texas on a couple of stollen horses right alongside them.

Shorty is an erudite small person (a midget, as the text never lets us forget) with a lot of hard bark on him. He's been kicked around by the world (both figuratively and literally), but he has a real sense of honor, a hatred for animal abusers, and a quick draw and sure shot with a Sharps long gun.

Eustace is another character with a heart filled with honor and goodness. Set in the years after the Civil War, Eustace is a Black man still coming to grips with the legacy of Southern slavery and his place in the world. He's alternately wise and hilarious, and there's nobody I'd rather have at the vanguard when it comes time to charge a remote cabin packed to the rafters with outlaws.

Cut-throat Bill, our primary antagonist, is a love-starved cretin--a man so detestable in his philosophy and behavior that you'll be rooting for his demise in the last hundred pages right along side this oddly matched posse.

And then there's Hog. Yep, they travel with a semi-domesticated wild pig who also figures heavily in the action. 

Jack Parker has some sand in him, as Lansdale makes readily clear, and his transformation from timid farm boy to driven mercenary is both refreshing and expertly parceled out by the author. Jack is a character we can all get behind.

The traveling party is filled out by a prostitute named Jimmie Sue, a disfigured lawman named Winton, and a jailhouse janitor named Spot. It's an odd collection of characters, to be sure, but that's a huge part of what makes Lansdale's yarns so captivating. In so many of his stories, he brings the downtrodden, the overlooked, and the under-estimated people of the world together to do impossible things. This empathy for humanity and understanding of the emotional complexities of his characters is a large part of what makes his stories so compelling.

Elliott Lester directed a fine film adaption of The Thicket. I watched it this weekend, and Peter Dinklage and Juliette Lewis give excellent turns in what is a gem of a western. 

I'm moving into some pulp territory with my next collection of stories (The Rack) for the new year, but if you haven't read Joe Lansdale and you're looking for a story that is carefully crafted and emotionally poignant, this is a story that should be at the top of your TBR pile for January...

 

January Reads and Recommendations: Never Whistle at Night

 

My sweet daughter gave me a copy of this wonderful anthology this year for Christmas, and it's truly a fantastic collection of compelling storytelling. Editors Shane Hawk and Theodore C. Van Alst, Jr. have compiled an amazing batch of dark tales that share a kinship in their rich characterization, vivid settings, and haunting incorporation of folklore and myth.

I grew up hearing stories that tread some of these same paths as an adolescent in Eastern Oregon, where the indigenous people of the Umatilla Indian Reservation have a long history and enduring tradition. Reconnecting with elements of some of these tales has been both frightening (there are many grim, grim stories in this book) and invigorating, and the writing has been both engaging and engrossing. These stories leave a bruise, and I mean that in the best possible sense.

If you're drawn to literature that combines folklore, history, and compelling narrative, this is a book that should find a home on your shelf. I'll be looking further into the work of some of these authors in the coming months as I add to my TBR pile for 2025...

The Boys of Fall

 

As I write this here in sunny (and frequently stormy) Jacksonville, Florida, our beloved Jaguars are conducting their first day of practice in full pads. That's right--our players are out there thumping again. The summer seems to have flown by, and another NFL season is right around the corner. It's hard to imagine that the Jags have a game next weekend, but here we are.

I'm bullish on this squad.

After last year's late-season collapse, I give general manger Trent Baalke and head coach Doug Pederson a lot of credit in overhauling this roster. Arik Armstead looks to be a strong veteran presence on an emerging defensive line. If Josh Hines-Allen and Travon Walker continue to make strides and DaVon Hamilton is fully recovered from his back injury then I think the Jags will have a formidable defensive front this fall.

The wide receiving corps, with the additions of Gabe Davis and Brian Thomas, Jr., in particular, should provide some downfield options for Trevor Lawrence that will help free things up underneath for Evan Engram and Christian Kirk. 

Travis Etienne is poised to take even another step this year as our lead running back, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Tank Bigsby will be much improved as his back-up.

Tyson Campbell, fresh on the heels of a new contract, and Ronald Darby should be fine in the secondary, and I think the addition of rookie Jarrian Jones is huge for this team. I expect Jones to get a lot of time on the field right from the jump, and Andre Cisco, Antonio Johnson, and Darnell Savage are all quality safeties. 

This team has more quality depth than I can ever remember in all of my time in Jacksonville, and we'll need it in a suddenly very competitive AFC South.

But it all falls on the shoulders of Trevor Lawrence. Early reports from training camp indicate that he's been having trouble connecting with his new receivers. He's thrown multiple interceptions in multiple practices, which is certainly not the news you want to hear on a player that just signed one of the richest contracts in professional sports.

But I have every confidence in Trevor and I really endorse the signing. He's an intelligent, charismatic, confident leader and just the right player to have as the face of the franchise and our city. His athletic gifts are undeniable, and his teammates love playing with him. Everything seems to be in place for a bounce-back for Trevor if our offensive line can give him some time and he can avoid the injuries that so clearly limited his performance in the back half of last year.

It's time to go! We have an NFL game this Thursday, and I've never been more excited about the year ahead for the Jacksonville Jaguars...

February Reviews: Gray Mountain, John Grisham

 

I enjoy John Grisham's books very much and I usually knock out a couple per year. I have read three so far in 2024, and his writing is clean, active, and very fluid. He is an excellent plotter and--for the most part--his characterization is keen and compels the reader into a sympathetic investment with the story.

Samantha Kofer is our protagonist in this legal thriller. She is one of the faceless minions in a large New York legal firm charged primarily with reading and revising huge, opaque real estate contracts. The Great Recession looms large in the opening passages of this story, however, and Kofer finds herself out on the street with few options as the firm cuts staff. Her only option is to take a free internship with a non-profit agency of firecracker lawyers in rural Appalachia. Their task? Securing settlements and benefits from big coal for the downtrodden, unskilled workers that toil in the mines under the specter of the dreaded black lung disease.

This book surges forward and Grisham's attention to detail on the ins and outs of the coal industry is admirable. As is the case with most of his books, the research is thorough and the legal tactics employed by big coal are both crushing and draconian. It's sad, really, so read about these small towns whose citizens have been used up and left for dead. Some of the miners have only worked in the mines for a few years before they develop the incurable disease, and that part of the story is heart-breaking.

While critics generally enjoyed the book, I found it a little light overall and thought that the tale needed a bit more exposition and some additional space to really breathe. As Kofer unravels the thread of a major lawsuit against a particularly aggressive mining company and their strong-arm tactics to level mountains and poison the groundwater, death, covert intimidation, and general mayhem ensue. It's interesting enough, to be sure, but the story feels rushed and the conclusion is short and a bit unsatisfying. It shares a kinship with the movie A Civil Action in the sense that there is no real hope for meaningful reform. The big take-away is that these large companies are above the law, and the human capital in rural America will be exhausted without any meaningful recourse.

This is a page-turner and an interesting read that most audiences will enjoy, but it lacks the moral gravitas of many of his better novels (I have read A Time to Kill three times, and still find it one of the best American novels of the last half century). I recommend it, but it's not in the same category as much of Grisham's production, and the other pair of books I have read by this wordsmith in the new year...

January Reviews: A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, by George R.R. Martin

 

I continued my January reading with George R.R. Martin's excellent collection of three novellas, A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. These longish tales follow a humble hedge knight Ser Duncan the Tall after the young squire loses his own knight, Arlan, on the road to a tournament. Duncan (Dunk) is leal (loyal), noble, and freakishly strong. He stands close to seven feet in height, and Gary Gianni's excellent pencil illustrations bring him to life with stunning aplomb in this tome. 

Dunk is ambitious. He is poor, but he aspires to such much more and really only wants some stability in his life. When he stumbles upon a young bald boy bathing in a creek, his future takes a new path as the boy takes an instant liking to Dunk and schemes to become his new squire.

The dynamic between Dunk and Egg (so named for his bald pate) early on is endearing, as Dunk doesn't want a squire and thinks the boy will only slow him down. But Egg is tenacious and hard-working, and before too long the pair become inseparable.

I won't get into too many of the plot dynamics, but Egg is so much more than a humble squire. He is descended from royal blood, and he has an acid tongue, a strong personality, and a full grasp of the turmoil that has rippled through the Seven Kingdoms over the last two decades.

The three novels are consistently well-written, with separate, interconnected adventures. Poor Dunk has a knack for finding himself in tough spots, but his honorable demeanor and thick frame suit him well as he navigates the vagaries of a dangerous world.

Martin's characterization is excellent, and Dunk and Egg are drawn with meticulous care. Dunk's consistent laments that he isn't good enough to claim the honor of calling himself a knight can be tedious at times, but it serves the story well as he ingratiates himself to the various forces to which he aligns himself. 

There is a complex dilemma at the heart of these stories (and one that I won't divulge here), but Dunk and Egg are just a few of the figures in these stories whose hearts are in the right place. It's a very satisfying trio of tales, and I hope that Martin revisits their adventures in future stories. They are certainly worth being told...

January Reviews: Fire & Blood, George R.R. Martin

 

Two or three years ago, I mowed through the six current books in George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire saga. That's a figurative embodied metaphor, of course, because I can mow my own lawn here at the house in thirty minutes and reading those amazing books took me the best part of a full year. It was like going to Westeros boot camp, and I was a lowly hedge knight for three hours every evening, eager to lend my sword to any liege lorad with mutton and mead.

It was exhilarating, and I looked forward to those reading sessions all throughout the day.

Martin's stories are told from multiple points of view, allowing the readers all kinds of insights into these lively, round characters. Even though I was reading at the same time that HBO was releasing new episodes of their televisual adaptation (also appointment viewing for us), it was such an enhancement to read those books while seeing the characters on the small screen.

Martin is a wordsmith, a master plotter (I thought we'd never see another writer that could build worlds as adeptly as Tolkien, but perhaps even the great master of the fantasy genre would be impressed with the depth and detail in these tomes...), and a perceptive student of the human condition. He really understands conflict (some of these books will make you wince and squirm and feel a flush of love and joy in a single sitting), and he writes with an active, engaging voice. His understanding of language is impressive, with so many antiquated terms and phrases peppering the writing with great ease.

I loved these books, and Fire & Blood is every bit their equal. In some ways, it exceeds them in its focus on familial history and the broader scope of governance and struggle in the Seven Kingdoms. 

Told in the form of a maester's textbook, the writing is humorous, pointed, and fluid. The work covers long centuries of triumph, tragedy, and conquest before the Ice and Fire books. It's spicy, with lots of sex and romance (if you can call it that) subplots, and there are dozens of dragons in this book. The tale of the Greens and the Blacks, which forms the foundation for HBO's spinoff equally excellent House of the Dragon, is simultaneously heart-breaking and revolting, as these characters stoop to the very depths of treachery in their lust for the Iron Throne. The violence is not for the faint of heart, but it never feels gratuitous or indulgent. It merely serves the narrative arch that sitting atop the Iron Throne and ruling the Seven Kingdoms is Westeros's finest drug--a narcotic so powerful that it causes men, women, and children alike to cast aside any façade of human decency in its pursuit.

This is one of the best books I've read in the last year or so, and I most highly recommend it to those that love the venerable fantasy genre...