Jason Momoa has been trying to make this show for a decade. Literally. If you’ve followed his career since the Stargate: Atlantis days, you know he’s deeply, almost obsessively, connected to his Hawaiian roots. Now that Chief of War Season 1 is finally hitting Apple TV+, it’s clear this isn't some generic "warrior with a sword" trope we've seen a thousand times. It’s personal.
Most people hear "historical epic" and think of Vikings or Shogun. But this is different. It’s the late 18th century. Hawaii isn't a vacation spot; it's a collection of warring kingdoms. The story centers on Ka'iana, played by Momoa, a legendary chieftain who traveled to China and the Pacific Northwest before returning to a Hawaii on the brink of total transformation. It’s a story about the indigenous perspective of colonization, but it doesn't feel like a dry textbook.
It feels like blood and saltwater.
What Chief of War Season 1 Gets Right About Hawaiian History
Authenticity isn't just a buzzword here. The production went to extreme lengths to ensure the ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi (Hawaiian language) and cultural protocols were handled with actual respect. Thomas Pa'a Sibbett and Momoa co-created this, and they brought on traditional practitioners to oversee everything from the way a malo (loincloth) is tied to the specific weight of a pahoa (dagger).
Usually, Hollywood treats Pacific Islander history as a backdrop for a "white savior" narrative. Think The Last Samurai but with surfboards. Chief of War Season 1 flips that. It focuses on the internal politics of the islands before the Western influence fully took hold. You see the arrival of Captain Cook not as a "discovery," but as a disruptive, often violent intrusion into a highly sophisticated social hierarchy.
The scale is massive. We’re talking about a sprawling narrative that covers the unification of the islands under King Kamehameha the Great. Ka'iana is a complex figure in this. He wasn't just a soldier; he was a diplomat who saw the world outside the islands and realized that the "old ways" were about to collide with a global machine they weren't prepared for.
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The Casting is More Than Just a Famous Name
Sure, Momoa is the draw. He’s huge. He’s charismatic. But the supporting cast is what actually grounds the series. You’ve got Temuera Morrison—basically the godfather of Pacific Islander acting—playing King Kahekili. Seeing Momoa and Morrison share a screen is a moment for fans of Aquaman, but in this context, it feels much heavier.
There’s also Luciane Buchanan and Te Aoereere-o-tara Wheoki. The casting didn't just look for "Pacific-looking" people; they looked for actors with deep ties to the cultures they are portraying. That matters. It changes the way a scene feels when the person speaking the lines actually understands the spiritual weight of the words.
The Visual Language of the 1700s Pacific
Visually, this show is a monster.
They filmed on location, and you can tell. There’s a specific kind of light in the Pacific that you just can't fake on a soundstage in Atlanta. The cinematography captures the duality of the islands: the terrifying power of the ocean and the lush, almost suffocating beauty of the rainforests.
Battles in Chief of War Season 1 aren't just guys swinging clubs. They are tactical. The show highlights the lua, the traditional Hawaiian martial art. It’s bone-breakingly efficient. It’s also deeply tied to the concept of mana, or spiritual power. When a warrior fights, he isn't just trying to kill an opponent; he's trying to claim their strength.
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Why the Timeline Matters
The late 1700s were a chaotic mess globally. The American Revolution was happening. The French were revolting. And in the middle of the Pacific, a group of islands was transitioning from isolated chiefdoms into a unified kingdom.
- 1778: James Cook arrives.
- 1780s-90s: Intense tribal warfare assisted by newly introduced firearms.
- The Rise of Kamehameha: A leader who used foreign technology to solidify local power.
This isn't a "peaceful paradise" story. It’s a "founding of a nation" story. And like the founding of any nation, it's messy and often cruel.
Common Misconceptions About the Series
Some people expected this to be Game of Thrones in the Pacific. It’s not. While there is plenty of political maneuvering and betrayal, the pacing is more deliberate. It’s a slow burn. It cares more about the philosophy of leadership than it does about shocking the audience with a "Red Wedding" every three episodes.
Another thing: people think this is a documentary. Nope. It’s historical fiction. While characters like Ka'iana and Kamehameha are very real, the show takes liberties with timelines and personal interactions to make the drama pop. That’s fine. It’s a TV show, not a PhD thesis. But the spirit of the history is what the creators are obsessed with getting right.
Honestly, the most surprising thing is how much screen time is dedicated to the mundane aspects of Hawaiian life. Agriculture. Fishing rights. The kapu system (the strict code of laws and taboos). These aren't "boring" details; they are the stakes. If you break a kapu, you die. It’s that simple.
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Technical Mastery and Production Hurdles
Making a show this big on the water is a nightmare. Ask anyone who worked on Waterworld or Titanic. The logistics of moving 18th-century style canoes (wa'a) and coordinating hundreds of extras in traditional gear while dealing with Pacific swells is a feat of engineering.
The costume design by Mayes C. Rubeo is incredible. She worked on Thor: Ragnarok and JoJo Rabbit, but here, she’s dealing with organic materials. Dog teeth, feathers, kapa cloth. There’s a scene involving a feather cloak (ʻahu ʻula) that is so detailed it probably took months to recreate. These cloaks were reserved for the highest nobility, and seeing them in high definition really hammers home how much wealth and power these chiefs actually held.
The Sound of the Islands
Don't overlook the score. It’s not just generic epic orchestral swells. It incorporates traditional Hawaiian chanting (oli) and percussion. The soundscape is vital because, in Hawaiian culture, oral tradition was the only way history was preserved. The rhythm of the show mirrors the rhythm of the chanting.
Actionable Insights for Viewers
If you’re going to dive into Chief of War Season 1, do yourself a favor and do ten minutes of background reading on King Kamehameha and Ka'iana. Understanding that these were real men who had to make impossible choices makes the show 10x better.
- Watch it on the biggest screen possible. The landscapes are half the reason to watch.
- Pay attention to the names. Names in Hawaiian culture carry genealogy and destiny. If a character mentions their lineage, they aren't just bragging; they are establishing their legal right to exist in that space.
- Look for the subtext of the environment. The land (ʻāina) is a character. When the land is healthy, the chief is strong. When the land is neglected, chaos follows.
This series is a massive gamble for Apple, but it's one that feels necessary. It’s high-budget, indigenous-led storytelling on a scale we rarely see. It’s not just about the past; it’s about how that past created the Hawaii people see today—a place that is much more than just a postcard.
To get the most out of the experience, try to watch the episodes in blocks. The narrative threads are dense, and the political alliances shift quickly. Keep track of which chief controls which island (Hawaii, Maui, Oahu, Kauai), as the geography dictates the strategy. If you lose track of who is allied with whom, the mid-season pivot will be confusing. Focus on the transition of power from the traditional spear to the introduction of the musket, as this shift represents the literal death of an era.