‘Chief of War’ Review: Jason Momoa Lets Loose in Apple’s Robust and Riveting Hawaiian Epic

Following a reluctant warrior's attempts to unify the Hawaiian islands before the arrival of Western colonizers, the multilingual drama series goes all out in depicting 18th-century Polynesian culture and crafting exhilarating action scenes.

The reluctant warrior archetype tends to be as instinctively intriguing as it is irksomely far-fetched. Here’s a dude (or a lady, or a nonbinary individual, but typically a man) who’s the deadliest shooter west of the Mississippi or the toughest hombre east of Appalachia. They’re not just an expert in their chosen method of violence; they’re the expert. They’re also a practicing pacifist.

As a viewer, it’s an enticing characterization: Someone says they can do something extraordinary, but they refuse to do it, which only builds anticipation for the moment when they inevitably back up their claims. They don’t want to outdraw their trigger-happy opponent. They don’t want to throw down with a gang of knife-wielding assassins. They don’t want to rip out a man’s tongue with their bare hands and get a quick protein boost from eating it. But they can do all those things, and they will do all those things if they believe they have no other choice.

There’s also the handy moral shortcut. The reluctant warrior gets to acknowledge that murderous rampages are wrong before indulging in the murderous rampage anyway. Sure, some thoughtful audience members may have lingering questions like, “If so-and-so really is the best there is at beating the shit out of people, then how did they get to be so good at it? Wouldn’t gaining such an elite expertise require a big time commitment? And wouldn’t that commitment indicate an interest in, or a need for, performing these violent acts?”

Savvy writers will saddle their reluctant warriors (or martial pacifist, depending on your definition) with reasonable backstories explaining how they learned to commit such horrific acts of violence — they’re ex-military, not active military, or they’re reformed gunslingers, not functioning gun nuts — but the John Wicks of the world, on some level, have to enjoy what they do, don’t they? A little bit? Even if they’d never admit it? And shouldn’t that be seen as more of a problem for our warrior? Shouldn’t the motivation for his initial reluctance outweigh the satisfaction of his inevitable victory? Shouldn’t he mourn what he’s been forced to do, once it’s all over, rather than ride off into the sunset as the conquering hero?

Ka’iana, Jason Momoa‘s reluctant warrior in the Apple TV+ series “Chief of War,” wrestles with his character’s contradictions almost as well as he wrestles with carnivorous sharks. At the start of the nine-episode first season, Ka’iana has already abandoned the titular role he inherited from his father, instead deciding to live as a peaceful outcast on Maui with his brothers and their wives. Each morning, they hunt for their own food. Each night, they sleep in their own shelters. Throughout it all, they protect and care for one another — the kind of simple, idyllic life that can never last.

It doesn’t take long for the chief to come calling for his strongest soldier, and Ka’iana doesn’t require much prodding to pick up a spear once again. He is, after all, afraid — afraid his people will be ruled over by the wrong man or, worse yet, controlled by outside forces. Is Maui’s current chief, Ka’iana’s uncle Kahekili (Temuera Morrison), the right leader? His previous war was driven by greed and cost hundreds of lives, Ka’iana’s father among them, but Kahekili claims to have learned from his mistakes and now only wants what’s best for the islands.

Doubts and suspicions aside, the uncle and nephew agree on one thing: A united Hawaii is needed to protect their people and culture. But joining forces isn’t so easy. Maui is one of four kingdoms that make up Hawaii in the late 18th century, each with their own chief and each trapped in a “cycle of endless war.” Not only does each island chief cherish their power, but most of the islanders are waiting for a chosen one to rise up and lead them. The “prophecy” has gone unfulfilled for generations, and whether that means someone needs to seize the hands of fate themselves or continue waiting is a matter of interpretation, and thus, contention.

“Chief of War” shares plenty with last year’s blockbuster historical epic, “Shōgun.” Co-creators Momoa and Thomas Pa’a Sibbett — who, per a note sent to reporters, are “direct descendants of characters in this series” — illustrate an in-depth appreciation of indigenous customs. Told with a predominantly Polynesian cast, who speak in native Hawaiian throughout the season, the Apple TV+ original spends ample time observing their characters’ peaceful traditions and portrays their sun-drenched haven with consistent reverence.

But “Chief of War” is also an action series, and despite its other attributes — the costumes are magnificent, the environments vivid, and performances strong (shout-out to newcomer Kaina Makua, an instantly endearing screen presence) — the action takes precedence. While mostly for the better, there are a few drawbacks. For one, “Chief of War” lacks the emotional nuance of “Shōgun.” Side plots largely go underdeveloped, including a few emotionally weight-bearing romantic and platonic relationships. (Momoa is technically caught in a love triangle, but it’s hard to care how it shakes out, just as his friendship with Tony, a European sailor, never quite blossoms into its intended bromance.) Despite opening titles reminiscent of “Shōgun” (and thus “Game of Thrones”) that depict the grand expanse of the series’ vision, Momoa, Sibbett, and showrunner Doug Jung (“Dark Blue”) don’t bounce between islands, developing different arcs within each kingdom, so much as they remain laser-focused on the big, burgeoning war.

A similarly single-minded approach could weigh down a show with less momentum, but “Chief of War” has such a strong engine — in Momoa, his character, and their shared daring — it rarely feels slow or stagnant. For as hellbent as Ka’iana is on protecting his paradise, he’s not immune to change. Various events beyond his control force him to expand his perspective and shift his positions. Momoa handles each challenge with his trademark blend of tenacity and grace (and to much greater effect than his last Apple effort, the widely unseen “See”). He can embody the vicious, hulking brute one minute, only to pivot into a vulnerable, slack-shouldered paragon of virtue the next. He is both bear and teddy bear at once, and Momoa’s ability to sell each extreme makes for a commanding turn.

That being said, for as affecting as his quieter scenes can be, Momoa’s berserk embodiment of Ka’iana’s action scenes can’t be overstated. The show starts — starts — with Momoa lassoing a shark underwater, and that’s when Ka’iana is still living in peace. As his ever-expanding set of physical skills is called on more and more often, in more and more demanding scenarios — a feat of strength here, a clash of kingdoms there — Momoa sets his long-repressed warrior loose, one unhinged grunt, roar, or scream at a time. When the finale (which Momoa also directs) introduces the long-hyped battle royale, it sure seems like Ka’iana’s fury road has run its course. And yet, there he goes again, unveiling even more eye-popping extravagance than many have dared to imagine.

In a note sent to media, Momoa and Sibbett said after seeing “the image of Hawaii […] packaged, sold, and resold, promising paradise for the price of a plane ticket,” they set out to make “Chief of War” as their homeland’s “reintroduction to the world. It is Hawaii’s story, told from a Hawaiian point of view.”

Ka’iana, based on the real Hawaiian warrior, is the main window for that perspective, and the series relies on the tension created by his continued calls for peace and how clearly he’s drawn to war. Not only are we watching to see what happens to Hawaii (a predetermined fate, even if Season 1 illustrates the value of bearing witness), but we’re watching to see if an honorable man can wield his demons for the greater good, or if by giving into them, he’s perpetuating the same endless cycle of war he seeks to break. Men have been using violence to beget nonviolence for centuries, and they continue to insist on its effectiveness to this day. But is it ever really the way?

This, too, may end up a predictable dilemma, but it’s a relatable one, too — and an effective way to galvanize “Chief of War.” Ka’iana does not want to fight, but when he lets slip the dogs of war, the havoc proves as terrifying as it is astonishing.

Grade: B+

“Chief of War” premieres Friday, August 1, with two episodes. New episodes will be released weekly through the Season 1 finale on September 19.