“From a small spark kindled in America, a flame has arisen. Not to be extinguished.”
Cultural historian and filmmaker Ken Burns has delighted audiences with in-depth documentaries about American life. Sparking debate along the way, Burns has covered everything in America’s history from celebrating our national pastime in 1994’s “Baseball” to the otherworldly design that is our national parks in 2009’s aptly titled “The National Parks: America’s Best Idea,” even to the rebellious nature of our homegrown music in 2019’s “Country Music.”
Now, 35 years after his career-defining portrait of a nation divided in “The Civil War,” Burns returns to the conflict that began it all with “The American Revolution,” a sweeping, six-part PBS docuseries that feels like a confrontation of how our country’s founding ideals were born, and how they continue to haunt us in a multitude of ways.
Premiering in time for next year’s 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, “The American Revolution” bears the familiar hallmarks of Ken Burns’ style. Geoffrey C. Ward, a Burns staple, provides the richly textured script as narrator Peter Coyote anchors the story with calm gravitas. Oscar-winning performers Kenneth Branagh and Tom Hanks join a cast of voice actors, including Josh Brolin, Claire Danes and Matthew Rhys, to bring to life the letters, speeches and diary entries of the era. The result is an emotionally charged and meticulously detailed account that is deliberately slow-paced.
However, where Burns’ “The Civil War” drew upon an astonishing visual archive of photographs, thanks to 1800s technology and Matthew Brady’s camera, “The American Revolution” faces a unique challenge: no pictures and no archival footage. Burns and co-directors Sarah Botstein and David Schmidt compensate with 12 hours of re-enactments that emphasize history (a muddy boot, a bloodied hand, a rifle loaded in silhouette). Drone shots fly over foggy fields and icy rivers where history once occurred. Animated maps trace troop movements with a visual result that is modest but emotionally resonant.
“Join or die” becomes a rallying cry to form a new nation built on independence. The eight-year war was not just a fight against the British, Burns and company convince their viewers that it was the first war fought for the unalienable rights of human beings and gave the United States its origin story.
The series aims to tell the story of the American Revolution, not just its military victories, but also the process of national formation. The 13 original colonies are front and center in a story that unfolds with familiar milestones for those of us who survived high school U.S. history class. But for all of the highs and lows that are taught about places like Lexington and Concord, what does freedom mean in an America that once tolerated the idea of slavery?
“The American Revolution” does its best to tie political struggles from the present day to the battles waged during the 1700s, balancing the perspectives of generals and soldiers of the day with those of politicians and poets who voiced their concerns through the written word. Future First Lady Abigail Adams emerges as an early voice of conscience, her call to “remember the ladies” echoing through the centuries. Phillis Wheatley, a Black poet once enslaved in Boston, receives her due as one of the revolution’s first chroniclers.
What distinguishes “The American Revolution” from many portrayals of the era is its refusal to mythologize the subject matter. Patriotism here is not blind devotion based on a high school textbook, but an act of reckoning that seeks to tell the truth from various angles. In many ways, Burns’ version of events is an exploration of how the moral fault lines of 1776 became the fractures of 1861 during the Civil War, and how the lessons learned persist in 2025.
The series’ pacing will test some viewers, especially those who aren’t quite familiar with Burns and company’s filmmaking style. At two hours per episode, “The American Revolution” is a considerable commitment, to say the least, and Burns’ familiar narrative rhythms, with their slow pans, solemn music and heavy commentary, can feel like a relic of another era of television. Millennials and Generation X might recognize this style from the many times a history teacher wheeled a large television into a drafty carpetless classroom, yet, within that formality lies a deep sincerity.
One standout episode, entitled “The Times That Try Men’s Souls,” focuses on the height of the conflict as the war becomes increasingly visceral, with choices made by soldiers becoming more stark, and the cost of war for independence becoming more evident than ever. Internal divisions between families, loyalists battling patriots, become increasingly apparent as the civil war within the overall struggle unfolds. The emotional weight of the war becomes heavier as viewers gain a deeper understanding of the human toll in the midst of battle.
Where “The American Revolution” truly excels is in its humanity. Celebrity voices mixed with historians’ viewpoints give the series emotion and consequence. The desperation of soldiers freezing on the Delaware River is palpable, while the idealism of pamphleteers dreaming of self-rule is admirable.
At a time when civic discourse feels fractured to the point of no return, Ken Burns’ “The American Revolution” serves as a poignant reminder that the fight for independence was not a single event … but an ongoing struggle for justice.
“The American Revolution” premieres Sunday on PBS.
