Oyelowo himself is a strong anchor for the series, and Bass Reeves wouldn't work half as well as it does without his presence over everything else. That said, some characters effectively make their mark even though they may only just be passing through in terms of the overall season.

At times, it threatens to tip Lawmen into humourless pastiche – particularly given that the script generally hews to a terse tradition (“He died brave.” “He lived brave”). But the rare point of view and the care taken with the story, to say nothing of its basis in real-life achievements, save it.

As an introduction, “Bass Reeves” makes the convincing argument that the Western can expand without a total reimagining.

Lawmen: Bass Reeves benefits from a sturdy performance by David Oyelowo at its center, effectively strikes the balance between tough talk, gunplay, and sentiment typical of a Tyler Sherdian production, and offers some perspective on a formative era of US history.

"Bass Reeves” kicks off what Paramount clearly hopes will be an ongoing franchise with a solid if unspectacular opening salvo, without fully doing justice to its intriguing subject. The real test, frankly, will come when “Lawmen” tries to reload.

An oddly disjointed series with very little voice or perspective, Lawmen: Bass Reeves benefits tremendously from David Oyelowo‘s central performance and from Sheridan’s impressive ability to attract high-profile guest stars for underwritten non-roles.

This is, again, one hell of a story, but it’s one hell of a story specifically because of factors that this telling of it glosses over in favor of mediocre versions of familiar material, which in many scenes wouldn’t play any differently with a white hero.