In theory, the new five-part documentary series The American Experiment, which examines the American Revolution, the creation of the Constitution, and the strengths and fragilities of democracy, seems like an urgent, timely "gift" for an America celebrating its 250th anniversary. Given the turmoil the American president has unleashed since taking office, a documentary that reminds viewers of the struggles and sacrifices behind the nation's founding feels especially worth watching. The American Experiment not only admires the Founding Fathers but also places their flaws in the spotlight. On one hand, it puts George Washington on a pedestal by presenting him as the kind of great man who never hungered for power. On the other, it complicates that greatness by foregrounding his status as a slave owner. After taking command, Washington backed an order banning new Black enlistments in the Continental Army. He, along with figures like Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and Benjamin Franklin, helped shape a Constitution built on the language of liberty even as these very men held racist attitudes toward Black people. The irony is not lost on The American Experiment; the series confronts it directly.
The documentary assembles a wide range of experts, including well-known names like Kamala Harris and Hillary Clinton, to deliver both historical context and a larger social message. Across five episodes, the series moves through crucial developments, from Fort Necessity to the Stamp Act, the Boston Massacre, and the Newburgh Conspiracy, all the way to the present, where something as basic as a peaceful transfer of power has acquired renewed urgency in the aftermath of the January 6 Capitol attack. If I had to distill the documentary's motto into two lines, I would choose these: "Do you want freedom?" and "Democracy is worth it." The point of this Netflix offering is to remind people that democracy is precious and that building it required immense debate, sacrifice, and effort. If you fail to value it, you create the conditions in which a dictator can seize full power.
The American Experiment is undoubtedly relevant, but relevance alone does not make it invigorating to watch. The reenactments here are some of the worst I have seen in a while. They are literal-minded—devoid of both drama and vigor. Remove them, close your eyes, and The American Experiment more or less turns into an audiobook, which is precisely what it often resembles. It has no cinematic spark; nor does it offer much as a purely auditory experience. While the substance is weighty and essential, the documentary presents it with the sedative force of a lullaby. Aside from a handful of talking heads and a few moments here and there, the narration remains sober, dull, and monotonous.
Director Brian Knappenberger does not know how to imaginatively combine the words of his interviewees with the visuals of his reenactments. Because the latter are so flat and passionless, there is little meaningful interplay between what is being said and what is being shown. Someone describes Washington as brash and overconfident, but the Washington on screen looks lifeless and expressionless. The result feels awkwardly comic, and this punctures the sincerity of the show. Likewise, what the documentary chronicles as a dramatic, explosive debate over the Constitution looks about as electrifying as watching corpses—you might as well be locked inside a morgue.
Knappenberger might be pro-democracy, but he often seems anti-cinema. He wastes the potential of the medium by reducing a stirring, urgent subject to a bland, stultifying experience. He wants to wake viewers up through a documentary that has the opposite effect. In this case, the irony is lost on both the film and the filmmaker. The American Experiment's pleas are urgent without ever feeling impassioned. They are cold and tedious, delivered in a sluggish package.
Final Score - [3.5/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times