Untamed is beautiful to look at but tiresome to sit through

The gnarly opening scene of Untamed is unfortunately its high point. In it, a young woman is shot and falls from a 3,000-foot granite structure in Yosemite National Park, her body swiftly entangled in the ropes of two climbers who almost plunge to their deaths. This sets up an intriguing mystery for special agent Kyle Turner (Eric Bana), who is already dealing with personal demons in the forms of family misfortune, a previously unsolved case, a complicated ex-wife, and a tenacious new officer in town. As if this wasn’t enough to immediately etch his name on TV’s tortured-detectives list, his superior asks Kyle early on, “Should I be worried about you?” The answer is a resounding yes. Series co-creators/father-daughter duo Mark L. Smith (American Primeval) and Elle Smith keep adding to his burdens—the man loves to throw a punch or two, mostly for good reasons—but fail to develop the characters or (many) subplots in interesting or meaningful ways. 

Much like Netflix’s recent The Waterfront, Untamed is a digestible enough crime series with a couple of solid performances. But it’s not satisfying because it frustratingly stretches itself thin. Kyle’s involvement in seemingly disparate incidents with last-minute twists leads to a contrived payoff by the end. There is hardly any genuine chemistry between the actors, except for Bana and Rosemarie DeWitt, who plays his caring but equally tormented former spouse, Jill. So a lot of scenes—particularly the emotional confrontations—feel inorganic, making it difficult to get lost in the world the Smiths are trying so hard to cultivate in this stunning setting. 

And the show does offer some phenomenal visuals (thanks to cinematographers like Michael McDonough and Brendan Uegema) that emphasize both the beauty and the unpredictability of the wilderness. The repeated shots of sequoia trees, cliffs, lakes, and waterfalls are indeed serene. But the vast space also has danger lurking within like drug runners, a killer roaming in the mountains, and other menacing figures such as Wilson Bethel‘s rogue ranger, who has a troubled history with Kyle. 

While the scenery adds to the show’s limited charms, there is a lack of intensity and urgency in Untamed. Kyle and a dogged Naya (La Brea‘s Lily Santiago), an L.A. transplant who moves to town with her young son, initially struggle to work together as she gets used to leaving the city life behind. (Her relocation issues involve everything from learning how to ride a horse to getting trapped in a cave with bats.) But they turn into a formidable mentor-mentee pair, saving each other’s asses on multiple occasions after Kyle and Jill help her settle and deal with an abusive partner.