Pratt and showrunner David Digilio toned this thing way down for (Amazon) Prime time. And if you think the show is bad, the book, which is fast-paced and bloody and replete with descriptions of weaponry and gear, is worse.
Yes, this is, as the Daily Beast’s review’s headline called the show, “an unhinged right-wing revenge fantasy.” Yes, it’s yet another invitation to worship at the altar of the Navy SEALs, who have become, in the decades after 9/11, our culture industries’ warrior saints, which isn’t good. The conspiracy that killed his team gets revealed by bloodshed, and plenty of it. As James Reece’s creator Jack Carr-himself a former SEAL with just the kind of bearded, gun-slinging author photo that you’d expect-described the story in the preface to the first book in his Terminal List series: “It is about what could happen when societal norms, laws, regulations, morals, and ethics give way for a man of extraordinary capability, hardened by war, and set on a course of reckoning a man who is, for all practical purposes, already dead.” The answer to that question will not surprise you: That man, played drawn and weary by a grey-faced Pratt, travels far and wide, a motley crew of allies in tow, to interrogate and then murder gang members, lawyers, financiers, and military personnel in a variety of creative ways. The Terminal List, starring Chris Pratt as James Reece, a badass SEAL with a recently-diagnosed brain tumor whose entire team was just killed in a suspicious operation gone wrong, is a visually murky, exceedingly grim revenge story, catnip for people who like to see these kinds of operators let loose on the world. This article contains spoilers for The Terminal List.
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