'Waco': Michael Shannon Shines In Otherwise Routine Drama [Review]

While there are a number of historical, true crime, Americana-themed mini-series on TV right now or on the way, (“American Crime Story,” “Trust,” etc.), Paramount Network’s “Waco” is the one that is most accurately categorized as such. It’s a miniseries in the classic sense of the word: an intentionally televisual, process-oriented, overwritten, broadly characterized, loosely-factual limited series boasting an overqualified ensemble of fantastic character actors. It’s a show about governmental incompetence that comes this close to taking the side of its far-right protagonist: real-life cult leader, David Koresh of the Branch Davidians.

“Waco” sets out to tell the Branch Davidians’ story as simply as possible; it has no illusions of being anything other than (ostensibly) informative, mildly engaging television. The series is at its weakest when shoehorning its characters’ home lives into the narrative; it’s at its best when focusing on the intricacies of bureaucratic dysfunction and federal crisis-negotiation tactics. It doesn’t hurt that the FBI’s lead crisis negotiator, Gary Noesner, is played by Michael Shannon.

The story of the Branch Davidians siege, in case you’re too young to remember or old enough to have forgotten, goes something like this: In August of 1992, the FBI lays siege to a small cabin in Ruby Ridge, Idaho. Inside the cabin is a former green beret by the name of Randy Weaver, his wife, their two sons, and a friend. Weaver’s just been caught selling illegal sawed-off shotguns, and the FBI considers him extremely dangerous. A crossfire ensues, with casualties on both sides. When all is said and done, Weaver’s wife, son, and acquaintance have all been killed by the FBI. Only then does the FBI bring in crisis-negotiator Gary Noesner, who enlists the help of a respected far-right political figure to coax Weaver out of his cabin.

Somehow, the FBI manages to pin the deaths of both innocent Weavers on the ATF (the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms), causing ATF officials to worry about Congress defunding their bureau. So when the ATF gets wind of the fact that David Koresh and the Branch Davidians have been spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on guns, grenades,  and ammunition — and that Koresh is a polygamist and a statutory rapist — they seize their chance to prove their worth to Congress, and set up surveillance outside of Koresh’s Waco, Texas compound: the inscrutable Mount Carmel.

The surveillance team, led by the comically incompetent “Jacob” (John Leguizamo), pose as ranchers but are made immediately by Koresh and his right-hand-man, Steve Schneider (Paul Sparks). Against the advice of his adherents, Koresh decides to throw caution to the wind and try to turn Jacob to the Branch Davidians’ cause. Things go poorly from there. Soon enough, the Branch Davidians are ensconced in a horrific, weeks-long shootout/siege/negotiation with Gary Noesner and the FBI.

As I stated above, “Waco” is at its worst when it delves into the private lives of its characters, including both the Branch Davidians and the federal agents. David Koresh is portrayed here by Taylor Kitsch, the series’ glaringest weak-link. And look, no one is rooting for Kitsch harder than I am (Texas forever, after all), but this right here is just some bad casting. Somehow Kitsch is unable to sell the precise kind of charisma a cult leader like Koresh must exude at all times. He never comes across as a true leader, and has no chemistry with his supporting cast — including his first wife and primary confidant, Rachel (Melissa Benoist). We watch as Koresh indoctrinates a new member, David Thibodeau (Rory Culkin), and don’t understand what it is about Koresh that intrigues Thibodeau so. When Rachel declares that the FBI is only interested in the Davidians because the government wants to keep Koresh’s important message from the world at large, we stop and wonder what precisely she thinks Koresh’s message is.

Kitsch’s performance wavers most of all when it comes to Koresh’s more outlandish moments, such as when he’s explaining that while celibacy is law in Mount Carmel, Koresh himself must marry multiple adherents and have sex with them so as to procreate (“I’ve assumed the burden of sex for us all… but not for kicks.”) Or when Koresh jams out to “My Sharona” on electric guitar in a dive bar.

Conversely, Michael Shannon is amazing in this because Michael Shannon is incapable of being anything but amazing in anything (seriously, even in “Pottersville”). He’s made a career of playing corrupt government officials, from “Boardwalk Empire” all the way to “The Shape of Water” (for which he deserved far more recognition than he got), and it’s a pleasure watching him play a straight-laced, competent Fed for a change. Shannon isn’t given any particularly showy moments (Kitsch gets all the showy moments here), allowing him to demonstrate some rarely called-for restraint, which you get the sense Shannon has wanted to do for quite some time.

The supporting cast is made up of magnificent character actors, from Shea Whigham to Julia Garner. Most of them, however, aren’t given very much to do at all (at least, not in the episodes made available to critics in advance). John Leguizamo deserves a special shout-out for his take on “Jacob,” a bumbling fool of an ATF agent. Jacob is a tragicomic character, and Leguizamo’s is the sort of performance you can imagine taking center stage in an HBO sitcom about government mismanagement. It’s probably the most layered performance here, given that so many of the show’s characters are one-note (even Shannon’s), yet another in a series of roles that prove Leguizamo’s bona fides as an actor.

The process element of the show is what makes it worth watching; Noesner’s negotiation sequences are demonstrably the highlights of the episodes I’ve seen, as are any scenes involving inter-agency rivalry, corruption and competition. Unfortunately, far too much time is spent with Koresh inside Mount Carmel, and with Kitsch’s performance being what it is, the series as a whole suffers. Not to mention the fact that by spending so much time with Koresh, the series comes across as taking his side in certain matters where it probably should not.

Bottom line is this: don’t expect “Waco” to break out as one of 2018’s stealth critical successes or award magnets. Still and all, it is adequate television — succinct and informative enough to at least glance at sideways. [C+]

An addendum: “Oklahoma City,” the 2017 Timothy McVeigh documentary that is likely to score an Oscar nomination come March, covers a lot of the same ground as “Waco.” It delves into both Ruby Ridge and Mount Carmel, and while it has a suspiciously staunch pro-ATF stance, “Oklahoma City” does a more nuanced job of presenting the facts of the matter in both cases, including the overtly racist components of these religious groups — something “Waco” glosses over entirely. It’s not a perfect documentary (for a documentary about McVeigh, it sheds surprisingly little light onto McVeigh himself), but is worth watching for a different, more thorough perspective on the “Waco” story.