Unwilling to abandon its meditative story for loud action sequences or gaudy performances, the series takes time in a landscape that feels the need to rush through these tales. “Chief of War” forces its audience to reckon with its languid storytelling process and the histories it teaches, demanding to be seen in a genre that outsiders often dominate.

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.

The series’ impressively brutal action sequences are the fun stuff, but questions about the validity of a monarchy and the intrusions of the outside world on an insular culture are what stick with you. Some people may be annoyed by this. But for those who want a little bit of rumination with their raucousness, Chief of War provides a nice balance.

While some of the war and adventure scenes are genuinely among the most enthralling on TV in 2025, they sometimes overshadow some of the quieter scenes, rendering them mundane.

The script has its simplistic touches and obvious contrivances. Romance is minimized. .... But Momoa, a hulking specimen even in his dad-bod years (he turned 46 this month), is the riveting, scowling prescence who holds our interest and this sprawling and historically respectful narrative together.

It is a worthy endeavour, and if it occasionally feels too much like that, it does relax and gain confidence as it proceeds.

As much as I enjoyed learning about Hawaii's past, the dragging, uneventful, and repetitive conflicts in "Chief of War" surely undercut the experience. That's despite the generally stellar performances — particularly by Jason Momoa, Temuera Morrison, and Luciane Buchanan, who might be the revelation of the series (she's fierce, dazzling, and fiery at 5'2") — and a lived-in atmosphere (the island's beauty is breathtaking) that sadly falters by an uninspired execution.