Forget the polished sophistication of James Bond or the charming roles that defined much of his career—Pierce Brosnan delivers a career-defining, bone-chilling performance in the epic Western drama The Son. This savage tale of blood, betrayal, and unyielding ambition transforms the actor into Eli McCullough, the “First Son of Texas,” a man forged in the brutal fires of the American frontier. “He was taken as a boy—he returned as a monster.” Spanning two turbulent eras of Texas history, the series chronicles Eli’s harrowing journey from captive to cattle baron and oil tycoon, building an empire on the graves of enemies and the fractures within his own family.
Adapted from Philipp Meyer’s acclaimed 2013 novel—a sprawling saga that earned Pulitzer Prize finalist honors—the series aired on AMC across two seasons from 2017 to 2019. It weaves dual timelines: the brutal mid-1800s, where young Eli endures captivity among the Comanche, and 1915, where the elder Eli ruthlessly expands his dominion amid the dawn of the oil boom and border conflicts. This isn’t a romanticized West of heroic cowboys; it’s a gritty examination of the American dream’s dark underbelly, where survival demands moral compromise and power corrupts absolutely.
At the heart is Brosnan’s mesmerizing portrayal of the older Eli McCullough. Gone is the suave spy; in his place is a weathered patriarch with piercing eyes, a gravelly voice, and an iron will. Eli is charismatic yet terrifying—a man who justifies every atrocity as necessary for his family’s legacy. Brosnan sheds his trademark charm to embody a calculating survivor, haunted by his past yet unrepentant. His performance anchors the series, blending quiet menace with explosive fury, making Eli as compelling as he is repulsive. Critics and fans alike hailed it as one of Brosnan’s finest hours, a bold departure that showcased his range in a role demanding physical grit and emotional depth.
The story begins in 1849, when teenage Eli (played with raw intensity by Jacob Lofland) witnesses his family’s massacre during a Comanche raid. Captured and raised by the tribe under the guidance of chief Toshaway (Zahn McClarnon in a standout role), Eli adapts to their ways—learning to hunt, fight, and embrace a warrior’s code. This formative period shapes him profoundly; he earns respect as an adopted son but internalizes a ruthless pragmatism that will define his life. Flash forward to 1915: Eli, now a powerful rancher, senses the shift from cattle to oil. He maneuvers relentlessly to secure his holdings, clashing with neighbors, revolutionaries, and even his own kin.
Family dynamics drive the emotional core. Eli’s son Pete (Henry Garrett) struggles under his father’s shadow, torn between loyalty and morality, especially in his forbidden connection to Maria García (Paola Núñez), from a rival Mexican family. Pete’s wife Sally (Jess Weixler) and their sharp-witted daughter Jeannie (Sydney Lucas) add layers of domestic tension, with Jeannie emerging as a fierce inheritor of Eli’s ambition. Brothers Phineas (David Wilson Barnes) represent varying shades of the McCullough legacy—some embracing Eli’s cutthroat ethos, others recoiling from it.
The series doesn’t shy from violence: raids, shootings, and betrayals paint a visceral picture of frontier life. Conflicts with the García family escalate into bloody feuds, mirroring real historical tensions along the Texas-Mexico border during the Bandit War era. Eli’s discovery of oil on contested land ignites a war of greed, where alliances shatter and lives are expendable. Yet amid the savagery, moments of tenderness emerge—Eli’s complicated bond with his Comanche past, his fierce protectiveness toward his bloodline—humanizing a man who blurs the line between hero and villain.
Visually stunning, the production captures the vast Texas landscapes with sweeping cinematography, from dusty plains to opulent ranch interiors. The dual timelines contrast the wild, untamed 1800s with the industrializing 1915, underscoring themes of change and conquest. Authentic period details—costumes, weapons, and cultural depictions—immerse viewers in a world where the law of the gun reigns supreme.
Though met with mixed critical reception—praised for Brosnan’s commanding presence and ambitious scope but critiqued for occasional pacing issues—the series resonated deeply with audiences drawn to character-driven Westerns. It explores profound questions: What does it cost to build an empire? How does trauma echo through generations? Eli’s transformation embodies the myth of the self-made man, revealing its foundation in displacement, violence, and exploitation.
In a genre often dominated by clear-cut morality, The Son thrives on ambiguity. Eli is no glorified outlaw; he’s a product of his environment, as dangerous to his family as to his foes. Brosnan’s nuanced performance ensures we understand his motivations, even as we recoil from his actions. The supporting cast shines: McClarnon’s dignified Toshaway provides poignant counterpoint, while the ensemble navigates moral gray areas with conviction.
Ultimately, this is a masterpiece of grit—a tale where the American frontier’s promise comes drenched in blood. Eli McCullough’s rise from captive boy to conquering patriarch mirrors the nation’s own brutal expansion. Brace for a journey through the heart of power’s corruption, where legacy is forged in fire, and no one emerges unscathed. In The Son, the hero is just as monstrous as the wilderness that shaped him.
