‘Waco’ Is A Captivating Drama Anchored By Its Powerful Performances

In a time when shootings seem to happen every other day and have stopped making headlines, we often become numb to acts of violence and injustice – especially when they’re depicted on screen. Waco, the first miniseries from the newly minted Paramount Network, does not let you off that easily. Created by brothers John Erick and Drew Dowdle, the six-part series chronicles the infamous Waco siege that took place almost exactly 25 years ago. While there will undoubtedly be complaints about the manner in which the series humanizes the cult that was so heavily demonized by the media, Waco‘s strength comes from the fact that it doesn’t deal in moral absolutes – there is no black and white here, and we all must examine our sins – and endure the consequences.

Anchored by a breathtaking performance from Taylor Kitsch (Friday Night LightsTrue Detective) as Branch Davidian leader David Koresh, Waco kicks off about a year prior to the eponymous siege with an incident at a compound in Ruby Ridge, Idaho, where FBI Negotiator Gary Noesner (an unsurprisingly great Michael Shannon) tries to salvage what’s left of a botched standoff with a family of end-times survivalists. It becomes clear right away that Noesner is not like his colleagues at the FBI or ATF; he approaches crises with a calm demeanor and does his best to deescalate with words instead of bullets. From here, the series fascinatingly parallels Noesner’s attempt to seek justice for the errors at Ruby Ridge with the day-to-day happenings of life at Mount Carmel, where Koresh and the Branch Davidians live.

While Waco could go and immediately characterize these cult members as violent fanatics, we instead see the mundanity of their day-to-day existence, including wrangling children, taking in Koresh’s captivating sermons, and playing music. Koresh, while seemingly universally loved, has to have the ire of at least a few of his followers; he’s made all the men pledge to be celibate and instead taken the rest of the women and girls in the compound as his sister wives (despite the fact that he’s got his own wife, played by Melissa Benoist) – even the wife of his best friend Steve Schneider (House of CardsPaul Sparks), who soon bears his child. It’s an interesting dynamic to watch play out, as the Branch Davidian men mostly swallow their pride while the ATF and FBI agents do precisely the opposite.

Desperate for some kind of redemption after the Ruby Ridge incident, the ATF discovers that the Branch Davidians have stockpiled some $200,000 worth of guns and grenades and are abusing children inside the compound – so they decide to act. If the first two episodes have you wondering where things are going, the third will erase all doubts; the depiction of the initial assault on Waco is nothing if not harrowing, masterfully directed and acted on all fronts. This show even manages to make phone calls – scenes that are typically boring  – totally compelling. The stacked ensemble cast – which includes the aforementioned Kitsch, Shannon, and Sparks, Shea Whigham, Rory Culkin, Julia Garner, John Leguizamo, Andrea Riseborough, and more – are truly stellar and gripping at every turn. Perhaps nothing comes as a more pleasant surprise than Kitsch’s Koresh, a casting we never would have called from miles away but acts as the big beating heart of Waco. He’s disarmingly charming, a spellbinding, sneakily manipulative presence in each scene that leaves no question as to why all these people are living in these dorm-like accommodations. There’s empathy to be found in every character on Waco – even the most trigger-happy of them. And that’s what makes it so simultaneously enthralling and agonizing.

There is one glaring omission from the series thus far (we’ve only been given the first three episodes for review), and that is the frank depiction Koresh’s treatment of women and statutory rape. While it’s not shied away from here, it definitely isn’t shown as the crime it was, and at times, this can be troubling, especially given the charismatic, sympathetic nature of Kitsch’s Koresh. Waco‘s avoidance of painting the Branch Davidians as villains may come into play here, and that’s not a bad thing – but the transgressions they were guilty of should certainly not be glossed over.

It seems about time to acknowledge that all this carnage could have been avoided had law enforcement not been on a quest for atonement and toxic masculinity not driven the actions of these officials – and Waco does just that in its first three hours, and will hopefully continue to for the duration of its six-episode run. The series benefits greatly from the Dowdles’ horror background – they build a remarkable amount of suspense without strain, and it pays off. Much like the extraordinary The People v. O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story, Waco gives a fresh perspective on an event muddled by media frenzy and forced narratives. Roles are reversed and the law enforcement agencies involved are alternately painted as the fanatics (well, most of them), allowing for some truly intriguing television – and some subsequent introspection for viewers. It’s easy to stumble upon the story of the Waco siege and see it as a bonkers doomsday sect leader causing the death of his own followers like the tales of so many other cults we’ve seen, but Waco is determined to shed new light on this event and make these casualties human – and it works. We shouldn’t settle for this injustice, and Waco doesn’t. Because if you aren’t outraged about the loss of these 80 lives, you aren’t paying close enough attention.