Netflix Western The Abandons Is Everything Wrong With TV in 2025

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Okay, so I just finished The Abandons on Netflix, and honestly, it’s one of those shows that feels… revealing. What you get out of it really depends on what you’re expecting from TV these days. On the one hand, it’s a perfectly fine western – not groundbreaking, but enjoyable if you’re into the genre. It’s got strong female leads, and Netflix cleverly cast Gillian Anderson and Lena Headey against each other – a smart move to grab attention. Plus, it’s from Kurt Sutter, so fans of Sons of Anarchy will probably dig it. But as someone who watches a lot of TV, it also feels like a perfect example of everything that’s a little… frustrating about where we are right now with the medium. It feels very calculated, if that makes sense.

Netflix is constantly trying to be the one-stop shop for all streaming entertainment, and recently made a significant offer to buy Warner Bros. Discovery to help achieve that goal. As part of this strategy, Netflix consistently creates shows similar to popular hits from other platforms. Their latest offering, The Abandons, is clearly inspired by Paramount’s Yellowstone, which concluded in 2024 but continues to generate new content. This year has seen a surge of potential Western series, including American Primeval (a gritty historical drama), Untamed (a visually impressive crime show), and Ransom Canyon (a romantic Western). Netflix even released its own take on the Yellowstone formula with Territory last fall. Like the show that started it all, most of these series center around conflicts over land, pitting independent characters against ruthless corporations – a classic American theme.

The new series, The Abandons, takes place in 1854 Washington Territory and features two women as the central figures. Lena Headey, known for her role in Game of Thrones, plays Fiona Nolan, a kind and strong-willed rancher who has created a home and family on land containing valuable silver. Constance Van Ness, played by Anderson, is a ruthless widow and head of a powerful local family who is determined to mine the silver. When Fiona and her neighbors refuse to sell, Constance resorts to intimidation tactics – sending people to cause trouble, damage property, and harass Fiona and her community, known as the Orphans – all while under pressure from a demanding investor, similar to the role Hearst played in Deadwood, but this time it’s a Vanderbilt.

Adding layers to the central conflict are the relationships between Constance’s grown children and Fiona’s adopted kids. Willem Van Ness pursues the rebellious Dahlia, while his sister, Trisha, finds herself attracted to Dahlia’s brother, Elias – a pairing that feels like a less dramatic version of Romeo and Juliet. The show also introduces Albert, an educated Black adoptee, which allows it to briefly address racism. Scenes featuring the local Cayuse tribe touch on Western tropes but don’t develop into substantial storylines. Other Indigenous characters, like Lilla Belle and Jack Cree, are similarly underused. Fiona’s neighbors have their own minor plots, expanding the show’s world but not adding much depth. The first season, consisting of only seven episodes, moves slowly toward a cliffhanger, suggesting it’s intended to continue.

The combination of Lena Headey and Gillian Anderson initially promised a compelling show in The Abandons, and Headey truly shines. She plays Fiona as a strong, protective leader – a modern take on the classic Western patriarch – and brings a believable warmth and defiance to the role, making her a fully realized character. Anderson, while often captivating in roles like those in The Fall, Sex Education, and The X-Files, feels less convincing here. She seems to struggle with portraying historical figures; she appeared rigid as both Eleanor Roosevelt in The First Lady and Margaret Thatcher in The Crown, and that stiffness carries over to this performance, relying on similar expressions and a cold demeanor. Though scenes between the two leads are built up as major events, the difference in their performances – worsened by direction that can’t decide between realism and over-the-top drama – prevents those scenes from truly landing. The younger actors often play their 19th-century characters as if they’re in a teen drama, which is likely due to the directing. Ultimately, Headey doesn’t get the strong scene partner she deserves.

The story could have been much stronger with better writing. Anderson’s character lacked depth, likely because Constance is unlikeable, and her sons, Willem and Garret, are equally flat. Elias becomes tongue-tied around Trisha, feeling like a character in a silly romantic comedy, but most of the characters are forgettable. The plot relies on familiar Western tropes and feels pieced together, and the use of sexual assault feels exploitative. While a conflict between the Van Nesses and the Orphans should create tension, the predictable story prevents any real suspense from building.

The dialogue in this show feels confused. It mixes modern language and excessive swearing with attempts at old-fashioned frontier talk, making it feel unrealistic for the 1850s. If it’s trying to emulate the style of Deadwood, it doesn’t quite succeed. Characters often speak in incomplete sentences, making them sound rushed even when they’re calm. Anderson, in particular, delivers overly dramatic lines like, “That perception of savagery is what I require,” and philosophical statements like, “Fate is merely a victim of circumstance.” He even asks, “Do our children still need such concern? Or do we slyly foster it, clinging to our motherly purpose?” It just doesn’t have the same grit or authenticity as the dialogue in Deadwood.

Despite a somewhat artificial look created by standard sets and overly bright lighting, The Abandons isn’t just another predictable, average show. It’s more like a ‘minimum viable product’ – a term from the tech world – meaning Netflix put in just enough appealing elements to attract viewers. These elements include well-known actors, a popular genre, a creator with an existing fanbase, and themes about family that appeal to a broad audience. This type of show – prioritizing brand recognition and star power over originality – is common in today’s cautious Hollywood climate. Think of shows like All Her Fault, which relies on familiar faces, or attempts to recreate Ted Lasso without developing compelling characters. It’s the same approach behind All’s Fair, simply combining established brands and stars.

Tech companies release early versions of products, called MVPs, to get feedback and constantly improve them. It’s a shame television doesn’t work the same way. In Hollywood, if a show succeeds with a simple approach, executives usually stick with what works and avoid making changes.

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2025-12-04 12:07