Chief of War review launches you right into the heart of Jason Momoa’s long‑cherished vision of Hawaiian history, serving as both thrilling, politics‑laden drama and cultural reclamation.
Chief of War review – the story, the spectacle, the soul
From the moment Kaʻiana (Jason Momoa) wrestles a shark in the first episode, the Chief of War sets the tone for its mythic, visceral scale. Inspired by genuine activities in late-18th-century Hawaii, the tale tracks Kaʻiana’s return from exile to observe seer‑pushed prophecy and tribal turmoil, as King Kahekili calls upon him to defend the islands against internal conflict and foreign intrusion.
Set across Hawaii’s warring kingdoms, the 9‑element series unfolds nearly completely inside the Hawaiian language, reinforcing authenticity and recognition for the Native Hawaiian way of life. Alongside Kaʻiana, the arc of Kaʻahumanu—King Kahekili’s niece—intertwines issues of power, prophecy, and future as Western “Paleskin” explorers arrive with muskets, unsettling the mounted order.
Story and characters
The series paces itself through political intrigue, internal betrayal, and spiritual symbolism. Kaʻiana evolves from a reluctant chief into a force shaped by colonial influence, torn between loyalty and morality. Kaʻahumanu’s storyline introduces prophecy and feminism in a patriarchal society, adding emotional depth and complexity.
Momoa co-produced, co-wrote, co-directed (the final part), and starred in the series, fulfilling his lifelong dream of bringing his Native Hawaiian heritage and these lesser-known records to the screen. His father makes a cameo, blowing a conch shell, grounding the display in heartfelt lifestyle.
Cultural significance and authenticity
Chief of War shines as a landmark in indigenous storytelling. With over 15 cultural advisors and collaboration with Hawaiian language experts and historians, it echoes efforts in language revitalization and accurate representation, not just in visuals, but in dialogue, rituals, and canoe building.
The nearly all‑Polynesian cast and the bold choice to film predominantly in Hawaiian underline a commitment to authentic storytelling that resonates deeply within Native Hawaiian and Polynesian communities.
Visuals, action, music
The show opens with bold spectacle: shark wrestling, lava‑face melting, bone‑crunching battles—evoking the scale of films like Shōgun or Game of Thrones with a unique mythology of its own. Critics note the brutality embedded in the soundscape—Hans Zimmer’s dramatic score is sometimes overshadowed by visceral fight choreography and raw sound design.
Sweeping cinematography across the island’s layers of beauty and brutality. Critics liken its epic scope to Ridley Scott’s historical dramas while acknowledging its immersive emotional intensity.
Reception and critique
Critics have responded overwhelmingly positively. On Rotten Tomatoes, the series has an 86% Tomatometer rating, and many reviewers praise it as a visually arresting cultural epic with emotional resonance.
Variety and IndieWire reviewers highlight the show’s historical ambition and cinematic style: Variety awarded it a 90 score, celebrating its “crushing power obsession” theme, while IndieWire emphasized Momoa’s deep connection and storytelling finesse.
Still, some critics point to pacing issues and underdeveloped supporting roles. While Kaʻiana dominates on screen, other characters sometimes feel underwritten—even as their arcs carry meaningful cultural symbolism. Additionally, for all its grand visuals, some viewers have argued that the slow‑motion dramatics and formulaic plotting dilute emotional nuance.
Impact and future potential
Beyond leisure, Chief of War stands as a milestone: reclaiming narrative energy for Native Hawaiians and broader Polynesian storytelling, inspiring greater indigenous-led epics to observe. Momoa hopes for a 2d season, and given the open threads and cultural scope, expansion seems probable.
By bringing spiritual prophecy, colonial tension, and identity struggles to an epic scale, the series opens dialogue on modernization vs tradition, sovereignty, and cultural preservation. As one critic notes, it’s a Hawaiian voice long overdue on the global streaming stage.
Chief of War emerges as a cinematic and cultural triumph. While not perfect—some narrative depth is sacrificed in favor of spectacle—it succeeds where many epics fail: grounding high‑stakes action within authentic indigenous history and identity. Momoa’s involvement and heritage lift the series beyond mere drama into legacy. For those craving epic television with purpose, Chief of War is an immersive journey.
