Dark Winds premiered June 12 on AMC and AMC+ with new episodes weekly.
Sometimes all it takes to invigorate a standard genre of storytelling is just letting a different perspective take the reins. Dark Winds, the AMC adaptation of Tony Hillerman’s Leaphorn & Chee novel, The Dark Wind, proves that by crafting an engaging thriller/mystery that is told by, set in the lands of, and is primarily about Native Americans. Set on the Navajo reservation near Monument Valley in the 1970s, the series follows the FBI investigation of a daring bank robbery in Gallup, New Mexico, and the Navajo Tribal inquiry into the local murder of two Native residents, which are revealed to be intertwined. Doing the legwork on the reservation are Lt. Joe Leaphorn (Zahn McClarnon), his new deputy Jim Chee (Kiowa Gordon), and sergeant Bernadette Manuelito (Jessica Matten), who were all born on the res and know their communities in a way no outsiders ever will. The strange behaviors of some residents and newcomers coalesce with the personal stories of the three cops, and their complicated relationships with one another, their people, and the white people who come onto their land. The writing and acting in Dark Winds gives us a fascinating cultural immersion into the world of the Navajo, exposing the societal, political, and cultural complexities that creates a tapestry of problems unique to the compelling investigation.
As developed by executive producer Graham Roland (Jack Ryan), Dark Winds is a series crafted by Native American writers with a 95% Native American cast, led by the outstanding Zahn McClarnon. His Lt. Joe Leaphorn is a man straddling two worlds: the one in which he was raised in the culture and customs of his people and the one in which he upholds “outside laws” as a police officer for the reservation and state. Because of that, he’s considered a traitor by some for his enforcement of prior crimes that hurt his community. But he’s also trusted by many, including his staff, as someone looking out for the general welfare of those he serves and protects.
In the pilot, “Monster Slayer,” the series opens with the bold 1971 robbery of an armored bank truck via an organized operation involving a helicopter, bombs, and masked and uniformed thieves who flew away before the police even knew what was happening. The helicopter is last seen heading towards reservation lands and then disappears from existence. Three weeks later, in a hotel room on the reservation, an older Native man who saw the helicopter fly over his land seeks a traditional purification ceremony from a respected healer and her granddaughter. Before it is complete, the man and the young granddaughter are found dead while the blind healer is left in shock but alive. The deaths mean the FBI must be involved in the investigation, which brings Special Agent Whitover (Noah Emmerich) onto the reservation. He’s only interested in solving the robbery case and has Agent Jim Chee sent to assist Leaphorn as his new deputy; essentially an inside plant tasked to be his eyes and ears on the case with an eventual reassignment reward if he’s successful.
By the second episode, Chee’s subterfuge is quickly ferreted out by the sage Leaphorn, and by not making it a point of betrayal, the two men come to an understanding that they’ll use everything the FBI can provide to move their murder case along and Chee will share what he deems necessary to Whitover regarding the lost helicopter and the involvment of an extremist Native liberation group, the Buffalo Society. The younger agent and older lieutenant then get to spend long car rides finding some common ground – like the fact that both left the res to get college educations – and their departure points, such as Chee not believing in mysticism or carrying native medicine for protection against dark magic. Their chats have the air of the Rust and Marty talks in Season 1 of True Detective, just far more accessible and less existential. As the episodes progress, their trust grows and they open their lives more to one another so a friendship is allowed to take root, which is a welcome approach rather than the expected antagonism that a lot of crime dramas like to lean into.
As for the parallel cases, they allow the three cops to fan out across the vast reservation, individually and in pairings, which gets us acclimated with the vast territory Leaphorn and his people are ultimately responsible for with barely any resources. Their visits with rural communities and their often poverty-level dwellings introduce us to realities of the world, and the players of note. Some of them are wary but accepting of the official help, like young, pregnant Sally Growing Thunder (Elva Guerra) who is taken under the wing of Leaphorn’s empathetic wife, Emma (Deanna Allison). And then there are others, like Wendy, a young Native woman who grudgingly works for the local community trading post and buntly states, “I don’t like white men or cops.” As the dynamics that they’re working within become more defined, the clues and investigation threads become more apparent. And while neither case is particularly special in terms of its originality, both are engrossing because of their interconnectivity, as well as how seeped they are in specifics of this culture. How Leaphorn, Chee, and Manuelito use the knowledge of their people to discover inconsistencies or connections would go entirely unnoticed by outside investigators, which is rewarding in itself. As the episodes unfold, it’s like watching a traditional crime mystery being solved through a new lens, which makes the series feel fresh and enlightening.
Where it gets a little bogged down is in its pacing. It’s a talky drama with the action beats coming less frequently as the series settles into its character-centric approach. It’s more interested in revealing things through cameras panning across beautiful vistas or long, conversational scenes between characters rather than with car chases or shoot outs. Those things do happen, but not with the frequency one might expect from an average episode of Chicago P.D. or Blue Bloods. But that’s more than ok when you have a cast the caliber of this one, where everyone is bringing their A-game in creating grounded yet memorable characters. And they aren’t just relegated to being defined by personal trauma. Yes, there are stories of separation from parents, death, and hardship. But the series also revels in cultural moments of celebration, such as presenting the intricacies of the puberty ceremony of the Kinaalda through Emma and Joe’s niece, or just having the warmth and love between Joe and Emma be extremely present throughout the story. And the rapport between Joe and Jim is also particularly strong, as they find their own path with one another, respecting one another’s prowess while both personally wrestling with how their jobs can be so incongruous with their culture.
Dark Winds does bring closure to the two cases in a satisfying way, but it also lays the groundwork for continued stories within the community and between Leaphorn and Chee. There are 17 other Hillerman books from which to mine further stories for these two characters for future seasons. Based on what Roland and showrunner Vince Calandra and their cast have presented in Season 1 alone, more stories would be very welcome.