Margaret

Evans

settlers across the treacherous Oregon Trail –both fought in the Civil War 20 years earlier, one for the Union and one for the Confederacy. (As the story moves forward, they move from grudging mutual respect to something like brotherly love.) The Union captain’s trusty sidekick is a Black man, a former slave and soldier, who maintains a quiet dignity and steady heroism throughout. The Comanche Indians who appear on the scene are cooperative and noble until a brutal attack turns them toward savagery. The bandits and horse thieves are white men without honor. The European immigrants on the trail are willing to give up everything –including their home – for the promise of freedom. And free land.

Though rife with death and punctuated with a hundred small horrors, “1883” is a beautiful fable. It works at the level of Myth, with a capital M. Not just history, but prophecy. Episode after episode, I found myself pondering not just what America was, but what America is, and what America could be.

Sam Elliot, Tim McGraw, and Faith Hill are the big stars who created the hype and attracted the eyeballs, and they are all splendid in their roles. I knew Tim McGraw was a fine actor, but had no idea his wife could do this! Her Margaret Dutton is a force of nature. And Sam Elliott is . . . well, Sam Elliott.

But it’s Isabel May’s Elsa Dutton who is the beating heart of it all, maybe because – like America – she’s complicated. Almost a living, breathing paradox. Both childlike and wise beyond her years, she is innocent and knowing, vulnerable and fearless, gentle and ferocious, radiantly feminine and a swashbuckling cowboy. She is Lightning Yellow Hair, and she is unforgettable. The other characters –though wonderfully embodied – are familiar archetypes. Elsa is something altogether new, but every bit as iconic. An instant classic. A heroine for the ages.

Every young girl who sees “1883” will long to be Elsa Dutton.

This middle-aged girl does, anyway.