Like Dom Toretto, “family” is everything to Ka’iana. He once served as the Chief of War for King Kahekili of Maui, but he tired of the ruler’s bloodlust, so he and his family—wife Kupuohi, brother Namaki, sister-in-law Heke, and his loyal dude—Nahi led to Kauai, where they are treated like lowly refugees. At least, they are no longer party to Kahekili’s cruelty, until the King summons them back to Maui.
Reluctantly, Ka’iana once again leads Kahekili’s army, during Maui’s time of need—except the circumstances are not exactly what the King led him to believe. Horrified by their complicity in Kahekili’s atrocities, Ka’iana’s family once again flees Maui. This time, the find shelter in the Kingdom of Hawaii (a.k.a. “The Big Island”), just as a succession battle erupts. Keoua succeeded his father as king, just as he expected. However, the late monarch willed Hawaii’s war god-idol to his nephew, Kamehameha. Essentially, that was like cleaving the Commander-in-Chief duties from the office of the President of the United States. Keoua takes it as a rebuke, which indeed it was.
As the civil war unfolds, Ka’iana’s family aligns with Kamehameha, but it will be an uneasy alliance. However, Ka’iana might not even get that far. While escaping Kahekili’s army, Ka’iana resorts to a death-defying cliff dive, after which an English trading vessel fishes him out of the ocean, on their way to the rough-and-tumble Spanish-Filipino port city of Zamboanga. Ka’iana will get quite an education there, on subjects like guns.
Time will tell how the indigenous Hawaiian community feels about the depiction of famous chiefs like Kahekili and Keoua. For those coming in without any preconceived notions, the series hums along quite briskly as a big, bold, violent historical epic, very much in the tradition of Mel Gibson’s before-scandal films.
Indeed, Chief of War represents an unusually cinematic streaming series. The Hawaiian Island backdrops look stunning and the battle scenes are spectacular. Although Sibbett, Momoa, and cowriter Doug Jung often cast Westerners in villainous roles (especially with respects to the Spanish slave trade), the series itself is much less concerned with the colonialism than the tribal warfare enveloping the islands.
Likewise, Temuera Morrison and Cliff Curtis also have the necessary malevolent intensity for Kahekili and Keoua, respectively. They are both flamboyantly crazy, erratic, and downright mean. Arguably, Kaina Makua’s performance as Kamehameha is frustratingly quiet and reserved, but Ka’iana’s family often makes similar complaints regarding his on-screen character.
Once you get past the hack-and-slash (which admittedly will be the whole point for many viewers), the most intriguing performances come from Luciane Buchanan (known to millions as Rose Larkin on The Night Agent) and Brandon Finn, as Kamehameha’s wife Ka’ahumanu and Kahekili’s more rational son Kupule, respectively. Ka’ahumanu represents a particularly intriguing character, due to her ambiguous role as royal advisor, despite her conflicted feelings towards her husband, which Buchanan explores quite compellingly. If any cast member gets awards buzz, it will likely be her.
Frankly, Apple should have premiered the first two episodes at a film festival, because they constitute a significant mini-arc and director Justin Chon gives them an appropriately epic look and sweep. Momoa also bring the series home quite effectively, nicely helming the sound and fury of the concluding episode. Believe it or not, the nine episodes never feel padded. Yet, there is obviously much more to this story waiting to be told.
Arguably, this is the most successful Hawaiian historical yet produced. It far eclipses Princess Kaiulani and also surpasses The Wind and the Reckoning, even though the latter has its merits. Regardless, the battle scenes are grippingly brutal and intense. It is clear a lot of passion went into Chief of War—and even more sweat. Refreshingly grand, old-fashioned, and testosterone-driven, Chief of War starts streaming today (8/1) on Apple TV+.
