Why Ken Burns Will Never Go Hollywood
Ken Burns is America’s preeminent cine-historian, a filmmaker whose work has told the story of our country from innumerable angles and perspectives. On the heels of last year’s The U.S. and the Holocaust, he returns to PBS on Oct. 16 with The American Buffalo, a two-part, four-hour examination of that most mythic of American beasts and its central role in the nation’s westward expansion. At once a stirring tribute to the once-ubiquitous creature and a lament for its near-eradication at the hands of settlers and businessmen, Burns’ latest is a saga of greed, violence and tragedy.
It's also a parallel tale about America’s treatment of its indigenous population, who for centuries had lived in symbiotic harmony with the buffalo, hunting it for all manner of literal and spiritual sustenance, and receiving in return protection, stability and kinship with the natural world. The American Buffalo is thus a snapshot of pioneers’ avaricious slaughter of the beast not simply for profit but as a means of undermining the very fabric of Native American life (if not annihilating it altogether). That aspect makes The American Buffalo a kindred spirit to The U.S. and the Holocaust, detailing the active and passive parts played by the U.S. in the extermination of others.
Far from simply a scathing censure, though, Burns’ documentary is also, in its second half, a hopeful reminder that not all mistakes are irreversible. The fact that such noble about-faces are often spearheaded by those with ignoble ideas only further speaks to the unruliness of history, which Burns navigates with his typically deft hand. Enchanting, disheartening and cautiously optimistic all at once, it’s another triumph for the director, who spoke with us ahead of The American Buffalo’s premiere—and before the start of the Israel-Hamas war—about genocide, inevitability, and the enlivening messiness of non-fiction storytelling.