The Terminal List Is A Navy SEAL Disguised As A TV Show

The Terminal List, a new Amazon series storied by a retired Navy SEAL commander, is a rare example of a show with such a distinct narrative style that it takes on the qualities of its vengeful protagonist, James Reece (Chris Pratt). After his platoon of frogmen is wiped out in an ambush in Syria, Reece embarks on a journey to find and kill the people responsible. It’s a pretty straightforward story, but where The Terminal List deviates from other revenge thrillers is how uncompromising and unmerciful it is, and how it shows Reece using realistic military tactics to overcome near-impossible odds and deliver a spectacle that embodies both the bombast of the 80s and the gritty realism of today.

The guy who wrote the book the show is based on, Jack Carr, is a bona fide SEAL who has seen plenty of action in his 20-year career. As such, many elements of The Terminal List carry an air of authenticity, with numerous uncommon details permeating the dialogue and action sequences. Chris Pratt does a frightfully good job with his portrayal of James Reece, a man who seems to be the love child of the Punisher and Chris Kyle. Like the late real-life SEAL, Reece carries himself with confidence and operates with machine-like precision, rarely ever breaking stride or slowing down when new problems and surprises come his way. Little details, like him insisting on sitting at a particular spot in a restaurant so he can spot potential threats, or safe-checking his rifle before he hands it to someone, really help to infuse the show with SEAL culture. Like the Punisher, Reece abides by an uncompromising code of zero mercy to those who have wronged him, regardless of any moral ambiguities that would make anyone else reconsider. He does not care about how heavily the odds are stacked against him, how many bodyguards stand in his way, how tactically risky his plan is, or how high his target ranks on the social ladder; he wants them dead. Yet, Reece is not a Rambo-type character who can saunter out in the open and mow down scores of incompetent hip-firing goons. His enemies include Mexican Sicarios, private security contractors, FBI agents, and even other Navy SEALs, all of whom are portrayed as consummate professionals who are a far cry from the usual Hollywood cannon fodder. Watching Reece put his training to use against such formidable opposition and claw his way (sometimes literally) out of one impossible predicament after the other is one of the great joys of watching the show.

That said, the show spends just as much time showing the more tender side of being a special force operator, namely what it’s like to have a family. As his private war grows more brutal, Reece spends time in between the violence to reflect. “War is simple. Coming home, that’s what’s hard,” he tells an FBI agent during one of the more emotional scenes in the show, “Being a good father, being a good husband…way harder than being a good SEAL.” You don’t have to be a spec-ops person to feel those words deep inside you, and it’s just more evidence that much of James Reece’s characterization is informed by Carr’s real-life experience.

Any good conspiracy thriller needs a character closer to the audience who can untangle the web of lies along while the Navy SEAL handles the brute force. This is where investigative journalist Katie Buranek, played by Crazy Rich Asians alum Constance Wu, comes in. Buranek could have very easily become an annoyance who simply existed to move the plot along, but both the showrunners and Wong do an excellent job at fleshing out her so that she can give the viewer a more grounded perspective on the grander conspiracy and contextualize Reece’s vendetta. Buranek and Reece have surprisingly good chemistry, which is helped by the fact that, despite her diminutive stature, she knows how to handle a gun and has an iron will to tell the truth (something she inherited from her father, who spoke out against the Chinese Communist Party). Thanks to a careful balance of sympathizing with Reece’s mission and questioning him when he goes too far without excessive moral proselytizing, Buranek is effective as someone a general audience can latch onto when the story veers deep into its militaristic weeds.

Where The Terminal List differentiates itself the most is that it disregards what I call the karmic rule that exists in the vast majority of movies. At its most fundamental, bad guys get their comeuppance while the righteous triumph. When a righteous character stumbles along the path to justice, they must pay for it somehow, even after they beat the bad guys. If you’ve seen enough revenge thrillers, you’ve probably seen a bunch of them in which the hero starts out on a noble quest, has to dip his toe in somewhat evil acts as a means to an end, and suffers some kind of consequence later on after stopping the great evil. Like a Navy SEAL who has surpassed the average person’s mindset and capabilities, The Terminal List looks upon these civilian rules and goes “fuck that”. Time and time again, Reece pushes the boundaries of morality as he goes along his warpath in ways that would make Jack Bauer squirm. He detonates bombs in the presence of civilians. He almost kills a squad of FBI agents. He shoots a man who surrenders to him right away. He threatens to kill a child in front of his mother. Reece’s moral absolutism never falters, and there are so many moments where I genuinely thought he would be taken to task for his actions or surrender to the authorities. Yet, constantly reminded of the horrific atrocity that was done to those close to him, he refuses to give up and soldiers on, defying the kind of mental and emotional pressure that would drive anyone else insane. Perhaps this is why many professional film critics have slammed The Terminal List; they expect the story to go a certain way once specific moral lines are crossed, but it instead trucks along its merry way undeterred, well past the point where other shows would have said “enough”. To say any more would be heavily spoilerific, but what makes this relentlessness captivating versus something as ridiculous as 1985’s Commando is the phenomenal work Pratt, Carr and the showrunners have put into making James Reece a true flesh and blood character, and not necessarily a larger than life one like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s John Matrix. Even the villains (well, most of them) are portrayed with a degree of humanity as people who have their own families and aspirations, elevating the show into something more nuanced.

Being a Navy SEAL is about never quitting, being uncompromising with your principles, and overcoming the impossible through sheer willpower. The Terminal List makes great efforts to embody those ideals with its relentless pace and unforgiving morality. Driven by the atrocity that happens to Reece in the first episode, the story doesn’t slow down to pontificate on what’s right or wrong and stays on target as conspirator after conspirator, no matter how well protected or what their reasons are, is neutralized. If there is one complaint I’d make, it’s that its revenge/conspiracy plot gets a little too deranged, much like its protagonist, and strays into 24 territory, becoming somewhat improbable towards the end. A couple of times I found myself thinking “Really, that person was in on it too?”, but ultimately I saw it as a means to challenge Reece’s commitment to his principles, as if the story is asking, “How far would you stick to your guns if you knew this is what you’d have to do?” Because of that, The Terminal List goes where few other shows like it have gone before, and I certainly hope Amazon greenlights a second season.