On a textual level, MGM+’s The Westies is all about people who refuse to abide by the rules. Within the Irish and Italian criminal organizations of 1980s New York, low-level gangsters threaten rivals they’ve been explicitly instructed to leave alone. Mid-level ones deal drugs under the noses of bosses who’ve forbidden them. The best-laid plans are derailed by impulsive outbursts of anger or fear.
On a metatextual level, however, the entire season is an eight-hour exercise in coloring within the lines, without so much as a bit of snazzy shading to offer the illusion of depth. Despite a pair of decent lead turns from J.K. Simmons and Titus Welliver, the best that can be said of the latest gang drama from Chris Brancato and Michael Panes (Godfather of Harlem) is that it’s too competent to be unbearable, even if it’s also too unimaginative to be interesting.
The Westies
The Bottom Line
Too slick to hate, too dull to love.
