Critic Reviews

A massively ambitious and original take on the Western genre confirming the extraordinary writing and directing skills of TV auteur Hugo Blick, while showcasing one of Emily Blunt’s greatest performances yet.

It is not an easy watch by any stretch of the imagination. Perhaps that’s what makes the payoff so sizable. Despite its near-insurmountable density, The English ends six protracted hours as one of the year’s most memorable series, thanks largely in part to its astounding two leads. ... This is Blick’s bleeding-hearted love letter to the genre, and by its end, The English join the ranks of the grandest entries ever made.

Blick’s script is as spare and gorgeous as the landscape. If he could have spent some of the time afforded the plot machinations on interrogating more intensively the myths of the Old West, the colonial impulse, the difference between retribution and justice and the other questions his western raises, the ambition that is everywhere in it would have been even more gloriously realised. But it remains a sweepingly wonderful thing.

Flaws and all, The English is impossible to look away from. It’s a bold, epic take on the Western, drawing from a half-dozen different cinematic modes and smashing them together until the pieces fit.

There are some slightly contrived overlapping moments and one particular narrative choice I found unnecessary. Still, on the whole, Blick’s intertwined story of the brutality and redemptive possibilities of the American West nearing the turn of the century is a gripping and memorable adventure.

It’s rare to see a variation on the theme achieve the depth and poignance of The English. ... The story of Cornelia and Eli is a different kind of lie; it’s a fiction, and one whose sentimentality in later installments of the six-episode series barely undermines its beauty as a counter-narrative. Violent, macabre, and in many ways tragic, The English doesn’t deny what we know about what really happened when cultures collided on the frontier. Instead, it finds beauty in imagining how different people in the same situation, driven by purer motives and united by trust, might have built something better.

The English resonates with its gritty, lived-in atmosphere, and it never loses sight of the humanity at the heart of this tragic tale. No matter how brutal, how bloody, how blistering the quest for vengeance and reclamation is, the unbreakable bonds forged between characters remain center stage.

“The English” outlines at least one theory: Bloodshed is the American way, and so is believing we can put it behind us. Blick’s explanation is nestled somewhere within the connection between its graceful aesthetics and ruthless inclinations, its sweeping romance and star-crossed lovers, its white flags and red ones.

There is too much speechifying in a style that brings to mind the films of Quentin Tarantino. For the above reasons, you might be tempted to give up on it after the first episode. I certainly was. But I’d recommend that you persevere. It unfolds into an operatic tale of revenge and romance set against the backdrop of a lawless American West in the late 19th century.

Blunt is fantastic, as are many of her co-stars. The whole thing looks gorgeous, and it has some thoughtful variations on Blick’s pet theme about what happens when people from one culture get mixed up in the affairs of another. But despite a seemingly straightforward revenge plot, its storytelling frequently turns too complicated for its own good. ... Despite that, the leads and most of the supporting players are just so much fun to watch, as is the show as a whole.