Spoilers follow for the Netflix miniseries American Primeval, which premiered on January 9.
In American Primeval, Isaac Reed is a classic western hero and a classic Taylor Kitsch character. He’s laconic and no-nonsense, good with a gun and his fists, and ultimately a gentleman, the kind of hard-edged, squishy-cored character Kitsch has been playing since his breakout role as the loyal, tortured, smoldering Tim Riggins on beloved series Friday Night Lights. Isaac has a traumatic past and a secret sensitivity that endear him to the travelers he’s guiding west, Sara Holloway (Betty Gilpin) and her tween son, Devin (Preston Mota), and each come to see him as the husband and father, respectively, they wish they had. But in a finale scene that has viewers pissed, Isaac is killed defending Sara and Devin, an ending that denies the suffering character a second chance at life and love. Kitsch has seen the various complaints — and he’s taking them as compliments.
“We’re all flattered that people are that receptive to this show,” says Kitsch, whose starring role in American Primeval is another entry in his nearly 20-year collaborative relationship with director Peter Berg. (They worked together on Lone Survivor, Battleship, Painkiller, and yes, Friday Night Lights, the reboot of which Kitsch is simultaneously weary and willing to talk about.) “I’d rather have you fucking truly upset that I die than not feel anything at all. Then I didn’t do my job.”
The six-episode miniseries from The Revenant writer Mark L. Smith is set in the Utah Territory in 1857 and traces the violence and tension between various groups grappling for power. Mormon settlers will stop at nothing to overthrow the U.S. government, and travelers Sara and Devin are only able to escape their murderous attack with Isaac’s help. The U.S. military is trying to contain the Mormon threat while forcing Native tribes off their land and onto government-mandated reservations. And the Shoshone, who raised Isaac after he was sold to them, are facing a two-pronged threat of extermination by the Mormons and harassment from the U.S. government. Kitsch’s character straddles the series’ white and Shoshone worlds, and he learned about the tribe’s customs and rituals by visiting Wind River reservation and working with the series’ Indigenous consultants. “They were incredibly open with me, which helped a lot,” Kitsch says from his home in Montana. “One thing you can’t screw around with is getting that right.”
The show is structured so we get little pieces of Isaac’s backstory throughout. We eventually learn he grew up among the Shoshone and that his wife and child were killed. Did you come up with any other history for him, either individually or with Peter and Mark?
We chatted a lot about it. I’m in my little office and a lot of my research is around here. I remember flying to L.A. with probably ten books and all these notes to sit down with Pete and talk about how I wanted to root Isaac. With anybody that I’ve worked on, I hung my hat on his upbringing because those are the most formative years of anybody’s life. With the Shoshone aspect, it’s trying to understand that culture and the way he would have grown up and anchor the weight of the loss of his family and the weight of mourning. The only way he could see them again is to cross over honorably. That’s an aspect of the Shoshone community, and that’s what I really paid attention to. That led me to the Wind River reservation and working with them. They don’t really care — they shouldn’t — about me, and I’m coming in and talking to this elder and another adviser and asking these really intense personal questions. I think 20 minutes in, I was like, “The way you guys honor and bury your loved ones, is it different if it’s a warrior?”
What were some of the books you consulted?
I’ve got one here, it’s called Becoming Brave: The Path to Native American Manhood. This one explains that everything is circular. There’s no ending in life or death. You cross over. When Devin said, “They’re dead,” I added, “They’ve crossed over.” That line meant an enormous amount to me. Pete was fine with that, and so was Smith. I have this as well: Native American Clothing: An Illustrated History. We were really working on the wardrobe and including the Shoshone colors. I wanted a couple things my wife would have made me that I’m holding on to. He’s an amalgamation of a white guy and the Shoshone, and I wanted to represent that.
You went to Wind River and also worked with a Shoshone language specialist. How did you approach learning the dialogue?
There’s a very easy stereotype you can go into, that all Native tribes speak in this cadence, and they broke that quite quickly. That was day one. Then, it’s phonetically. I have massive whiteboards that I started using for Waco, for these crazy monologues and all the written Bible verses that Dave would knock out. For this, as well, I’d write them on my whiteboard all over my house, with the English version of it. I was always trying to add more Shoshone, because I loved it and I felt more like Isaac when I got to do that than I did when I was speaking English.
As far back as Friday Night Lights, you and Peter have talked about your collaborative partnership. He’s open to you suggesting dialogue and motivations for your characters. Here, you pitched the scene in episode two where you and your mother, White Bird, played by Irene Bedard, speak in Shoshone about the emotional pain you’re living with. Tell me about that.
For me, that was the most beautiful scene of the show for Isaac’s journey. It’s so important to show he is so fucked up by this whole thing. Otherwise, you’re just playing this lazy, grumpy guy. As an actor, you’re always trying to give more to these characters. With every character I’ve played, I’ll write a whole document on who are you when you’re speaking to someone? Who are you by yourself? When you pitch, you gotta bring all the ammo. You gotta have it prepped. Originally it was about Red Feather and him having gone rogue, and more exposition. I felt this moment could be a lot heavier for Isaac. It’s the first time I go back since I’ve lost my family. He’s carrying guilt he doesn’t know what to do with. I got it written in Shoshone and FaceTimed Pete. Mark was incredible with me. He was like, “With the research you’ve done, you’re now Isaac. I trust you.” That’s really empowering, because he’s such a great writer. But it was best idea wins.
Some fans of the show are angry that you die in the finale. It goes from being a very soft moment with Betty Gilpin’s character, in which you two kiss, to a very sad moment after you defend her and die in front of her. How did you film that?
It’s the time, right? That’s 1857 in a nutshell, pure survival, moment to moment. There are not many happy endings. In the scene right before the kiss, where she’s saying about California, “Are you sure you don’t want to go?” — it’s a guy who just couldn’t let go. It felt more organic to be that way, rather than, “Let’s just go to California, and maybe we’ll strike gold and get rich.”
Pete and I, there’s such a trust. We had rehearsed, and that’s one of the last scenes we shot. Pete gave me a sick note. He was like, “Isaac is this fucking raw animal.” You hear about how, in a wolf pack, sometimes they’ll leave the pack and go die. He was like, “I want that moment with Gilpin, but it’s also watching this guy go die and come to terms that he’s crossing over, and as honorable as it is, there’s still this fear of did he do enough to go to his family?” That’s where the emotional part of it is, the way I played it. There are two cameras handheld by Brett and Johnny, and they’re right there with me following, and Pete is like, “End up at that rock, and we’ll get it.” We did four or five takes. You live for those scenes, of trying to end on a real note.
You’re a photographer and you’re a fan of wolves, so I’m going to ask you a silly question. The scene in which the wolves break through the walls of the cabin to try to eat Devin and Two Moons: Did it feel to you like anti-wolf propaganda?
It felt like movie magic, man. [Laughs.] I was tracking yesterday, by the way. I didn’t get to him, but I did get some tracks. Look at this. [Moves camera to show a photo of wolf pups hanging on his wall.] I took that photo.
Did your interest in photography start because of The Bang Bang Club?
Yeah. I was interested but intimidated so I never engaged. I’m going to Patagonia in early February to try to get some puma shots with two of my best buddies. It’s a great escape, and creatively, no one’s telling me what to do, what shot to take. I love that part.
For the wolf part, I do remember doing cowboy camp and meeting the 70/30 wolf dogs they had. It’s funny, because there are carcasses out front that Isaac had killed. They probably would have stopped if they saw those carcasses before breaking and entering.
I have to, of course, ask you about Friday Night Lights.
Mm-hmm. I know.
You’ve said that maybe you would play an opposing team’s coach on the reboot in development. Do you have a dream story line for Riggins?
You guys give this so much more thought than I do. A dream scenario — I see Rigs divorced, maybe a kid or two. I’d like to see where Billy and him are at. There aren’t many options. I do think he would probably end up coaching. Maybe still battling alcoholism, knowing him. Obviously a little older and wiser. I think he would make a good coach, and I think Riggins would care maybe too much.
You’ve joked you “need to do a fucking rom-com.” Do you have a favorite rom-com, or a certain rom-com story line you would want to play?
Damn. [Pauses.] There are two ways to go about this. I’d love it if it’s something with Danny McBride, doing a comedy like that. Eastbound and Down, that would have been a blast. But a rom-com, shit. It’d have to be obviously opposite a terrific actress. What are the Linklater ones? It’s not very rom-com-y, the long walk-and-talks?
The Beyond trilogy.
Yeah, something like that. I don’t see myself running through an airport to stop her from getting on a plane. [Laughs.] I think I’d just let her and be like, “Fuck it, I gotta move on.” You’ll know when you know, when one comes. I got a concussion from the last job, a broken foot. It’s like, I gotta give my body a break here. I got a heat pack on my lower back as we speak. I’m kinda beat up.