Because of life circumstances, it took me a while to get through Under the Banner of Heaven, and I ended up watching a number of episodes more than once. Yet, I’m glad that I had to take my time with this miniseries, based on Jon Krakauer’s nonfiction book of the same name. This isn’t easily digestible fare, with heavy themes and deeply nuanced performances (and writing) that require time and thought to truly process and appreciate. While it’s certainly not for everyone, Under the Banner of Heaven is one of, if not the best, true crime series I’ve watched in a very long time.
Starring Andrew Garfield as Detective Jeb Pyre, this miniseries takes little to no time getting right to the main mystery. A young mother, Brenda Lafferty (Daisy Edgar-Jones), and her infant daughter have been brutally murdered in a sleepy Utah community, one dominated by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (LDS Mormons). Jeb, an LDS member himself, is deeply disturbed by this crime, as it forces him to confront the very belief structure that gives his life meaning. Luckily, Jeb is aided by his undeterred veteran partner, Detective Bill Taba (Gil Birmingham), who couldn’t care less about the Mormon way. As these two detectives work these murders, they uncover the darkest secrets of an influential LDS family, and in doing so, bring to light a history of Mormon violence that the Establishment endeavor to keep secret.
Whenever a married woman is murdered, the police always investigate the husband first. Brenda’s husband, Allen Lafferty (Billy Howle), makes it easy for the police, surrendering willingly. It’s through Allen that Under the Banner of Heaven is able to establish its effective, albeit clunky and uninspired, narrative structure. Allen is the youngest of six Lafferty brothers, all of whom are sons to the powerful Ammon Lafferty (Christopher Heyerdahl), a local chiropractor.* In order to understand how this family came to destroy Brenda, and potentially play a part in her murder, you first have to know how this family operates and practices its faith. This is where Allen comes in, as throughout the episodes, his interviews illuminate more and more of his family’s tale, shown in compelling flashback sequences that fill in the gaps of this mystery piece-by-piece.
While all of Allen’s brothers have their moment in the spotlight, only the two eldest warrant a mention in this review. First, there’s the oldest son, Ron, played by Sam Worthington in a role that’s well-suited to his range as an actor. Ron is charismatic, handsome, and surprisingly normal, living his life like an average American. Perhaps this fact is what makes his arc throughout this series so heartbreaking to watch, as being the firstborn son of a formidable LDS family comes with a torrent of pressure that surely nobody could withstand. Then there’s the second son, the eerily eccentric Dan, played by Wyatt Russell. Russell is clearly quite skilled at playing nice guys and goofballs, and he uses those skills to great effect here. But Dan is so much more than disarmingly goofy, as his obsession with holy revelation and his animosity toward the government steer the Lafferty brothers down a path that’s more hellish than heavenly.**
Of course, the more that Jeb learns of the Lafferty’s growing fundamentalist beliefs, the more he begins to question his own. And this puts him in a compromising position, given that, as a detective, he’s obligated to follow the evidence wherever it takes him, regardless of his LDS loyalties. This is where Andrew Garfield gets to flex his acting muscles, and flex he does. It’s simply a joy to observe the nuanced evolution of Garfield’s facial expressions as his character delves into the LDS underbelly and brings to light all the evil and hypocrisy therein. Whether you agree with Jeb’s religious principles or not, you can’t help but feel for the guy, especially when his own community and family start to pressure him to let it all go. What he endures throughout Under the Banner of Heaven would test and wear down anyone, even the best of us, and Garfield’s performance truly conveys that.
To counter Jeb’s more pious ways, there’s Jeb’s older partner, Bill Taba, a Native American who sticks out in the sea of whiteness that is Mormon Utah. Taba is played by the perpetually brilliant and underutilized Gil Birmingham, who gets to work with director David Mackenzie again after the two previously collaborated on the film Hell or High Water. Birmingham seems to relish playing Taba, a somewhat jaded but always professional policeman who utilizes a no-nonsense approach toward everything and everyone he encounters. In a miniseries that often dwells on weighty topics and upsetting themes, his deadpan wit and sage wisdom act as a much-needed palate cleanser that the writers expertly deploy. Bill Taba is a fantastic character, and Gil Birmingham was the perfect choice to play him.
So yes, the actor and characters are top-notch, but what about the story itself? Without recapping more than I already have, I’ll say that while I found the mystery of Brenda and her child’s murder to be engaging and well-executed, it’s obvious that it’s meant to be secondary to the larger themes about faith, religion, and family. Showrunner Dustin Lance Black, a former Mormon himself, seemingly wants to impart certain ideas about the LDS faith, and the true story of the Lafferty’s is a great conduit for those ideas. Ultimately, this means that Under the Banner of Heaven is bound to annoy and/or disappoint those who are less intrigued by Mormonism and more intrigued by, well, intrigue. True Detective this is not.
I mentioned earlier that the narrative structure is clunky, and this is undoubtedly my primary complaint about this series. Throughout its seven episodes, certain characters, mostly Allen, recount at length the history of Mormonism, from its birth with Joseph Smith to the founding of Salt Lake City with Brigham Young. It’s not that these flash-way-back scenes are thoroughly dull or anything; it’s just that their inclusion makes little to no sense. Why would Allen lecture Jeb on Mormon history? He’d know that Jeb is familiar with these stories, so it doesn’t feel natural for Allen to be so intent to tell them, or for Jeb to be so unsettled by them. Obviously, the real reason they’re recounted is so that we, the audience, have the proper historical context. Nevertheless, it all ends up seeming awkward and forced.
My secondary complaint about Under the Banner of Heaven relates to the first, and it’s that the series sometimes feels like it’s going out of its way to portray the LDS Church as being more insidious than it is virtuous. Perhaps this feeling stems from my ignorance regarding Mormonism and its history, an ignorance that I’m certain many viewers will share. Another way to put it is that, in the moment, I sort of had to trust what the writers were showing me in regard to the LDS Church, even when most of it seemed inconceivably awful. I guess the little bits of good they showed, e.g. the overriding kindness and sense of community, made me doubt that it could be as toxic as it was portrayed. It also seems the writers were afraid of this perception, as there are a few bits of dialogue in the finale that walk back certain negative aspects in a way that seems incongruous with what came before. It’s possible that I’m just playing devil’s advocate here, either literally or figuratively. Regardless, these thoughts occurred to me all the same, hence why they felt important to mention here.
Under the Banner of Heaven, despite a few storytelling hiccups, is a superb true crime miniseries. It may not broadly appeal to viewers who prefer intrigue and mystery over character and theme, but I have a feeling that many of the former will still be mystified by this unfamiliar world of religious rigidity. It also helps that actors Andrew Garfield and Gil Birmingham bring a ton of dimension to their performances, with Garfield reaffirming why he’s a go-to good guy in the industry. Showrunner Dustin Lance Black and the rest of the crew should be proud of what they created, as few series have ever pushed me to reflect and contemplate as much as this one has. That’s already led to number of great conversations about this show with friends and family, ones I’m sure we’re not alone in having.
If I had to score it, I’d give Under the Banner of Heaven an 8/10.
Notes:
* While Ammon and his Lafferty clan are said to be powerful, we never really get to see how much. Sure, they’re shown to be known and respected, but their influence is only alluded to.
** As outstanding as Worthington and the other actors who play the Lafferty brothers are (Billy Howle is stellar, and Seth Numrich & Rory Culkin are also quite good), Wyatt Russell really steals the show. His character is so affable but unsettling, and also so off-putting, that it’s actually kind of hard to describe him. It’s impressive, and I very much hope Russell tackles similar roles in the future.
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