Quick Read
- The Abandons is a Netflix Western set in 1854 Washington Territory, created by Kurt Sutter.
- Gillian Anderson and Lena Headey star as rival matriarchs fighting over land and legacy.
- The series is praised for Headey’s performance but criticized for shallow characters and rushed storytelling.
- Only seven episodes were produced, with Sutter leaving before completion, resulting in a truncated narrative.
- The show ends on a cliffhanger, with unresolved arcs and hopes for deeper future seasons.
Revisionist Western with Matriarchs at the Helm
Netflix’s The Abandons arrives at a moment when the streaming giant is doubling down on Westerns—eager to offer the next Yellowstone, but with its own twist. Created by Kurt Sutter, known for his work on Sons of Anarchy and The Shield, the series distinguishes itself by placing women at the center of its frontier conflict. Set in 1854 Washington Territory, the show pits two matriarchs against each other: Gillian Anderson’s steely Constance Van Ness and Lena Headey’s devout, fiery Fiona Nolan.
Constance controls the local mining interests and wields power over Angel’s Ridge. Fiona, a Catholic Irish widow, presides over a makeshift family of orphans on the ranch known as The Abandons. The plot revolves around the classic Western struggle for land—Jasper Hollow, rich with silver, is coveted by Constance but fiercely protected by Fiona and her neighbors.
Family, Power, and Land: Familiar Themes in New Hands
On paper, The Abandons offers a fresh lens on age-old Western themes. The drama doesn’t shy away from archetypes—rugged individualists clashing with capitalist forces—but it gives them a gender flip. Fiona’s patchwork family includes adopted children of diverse backgrounds, each with their own backstories, though these are frustratingly underdeveloped. Anderson and Headey’s performances anchor the show, with Headey in particular breathing warmth and defiance into her role. Anderson’s Constance, though icy and commanding, struggles with a script that rarely grants her nuance or vulnerability.
The supporting cast, including Nick Robinson, Diana Silvers, Lamar Johnson, Natalia del Riego, and Lucas Till, are mostly left adrift. Their subplots—romances, racial tension, and sibling bonds—feel cobbled together and often abandoned before they can gain traction. Fiona’s neighbors and the local Cayuse tribe are present, but largely serve as background color, never coalescing into fully realized stories (The Hollywood Reporter, Time).
Rushed Storytelling and Shallow Characterization
Perhaps the most glaring issue with The Abandons is its pacing and lack of depth. Netflix originally ordered ten episodes, but the final product is just seven—many under forty minutes. Sutter parted ways with the show before shooting wrapped, and it shows. The narrative feels gutted: relationships are sketchily drawn, and key motivations are left to the audience’s imagination. Even potentially compelling contrasts—Fiona’s religious zeal versus Constance’s cold pragmatism—are set up, then quickly abandoned.
Script problems abound. Dialogue swings between anachronistic, profane attempts at stylized frontier speak and flat pronouncements that fail to ring true. Characters elide verbs and pronouns, resulting in lines that sound breathless or unfinished. Anderson, for example, is saddled with grandiose statements—”Fate is merely a victim of circumstance”—that land awkwardly. The younger cast, meanwhile, play their 19th-century roles with the energy of contemporary teen drama, which further muddles the show’s tone (Time, The Guardian).
Visuals, Violence, and the Limits of Myth
Visually, The Abandons delivers generic Western sets and sepia-toned landscapes, filmed in Alberta. The show’s action sequences—CGI cattle stampedes, prairie shootouts—are often murky and poorly staged, lacking the visceral impact of Sutter’s previous works. The violence escalates in the latter episodes, but because the characters are thinly drawn, the emotional punch is missing.
In keeping with Western tradition, the series explores themes of justice, loyalty, and the bonds of chosen family versus blood. Yet, as The Guardian notes, its seriousness can be wearying; the mythic struggle for moral order is present, but the novelty of female leads fades quickly when their concerns mirror patriarchal predecessors.
A Minimum Viable Western for the Streaming Age?
The Abandons reflects broader trends in contemporary TV—what critics have dubbed “minimum viable product” entertainment. It’s a show assembled with just enough star power, genre familiarity, and topical themes to attract viewers, but without the depth or inventiveness that defines lasting prestige television. Sutter’s departure and Netflix’s algorithmic approach leave the series feeling calculated but hollow. The finale’s cliffhanger doesn’t resolve key arcs, instead inviting viewers to hope for a future season that might fill in the gaps (Time).
Comparisons to other revisionist Westerns—like Godless, American Primeval, and The English—underscore its shortcomings. Those series offered richer explorations of freedom, faith, and identity. The Abandons, by contrast, gestures at these ideas but rarely commits. It remains, at best, a thoughtful but slight entry in the genre, buoyed by Headey’s performance and the enduring appeal of the Western myth.
Despite its promising premise and strong cast, The Abandons ultimately falls short of its potential. The show’s superficial character work and uneven storytelling reflect a larger trend in streaming TV—where star names and genre cues matter more than substance. It’s a watchable, sometimes engaging drama, but one that leaves viewers wishing for a deeper, more daring exploration of its matriarchal frontier.