If you’ve been waiting 18 years for an Apocalypto sequel, stop refreshing Mel Gibson’s IMDb page. It’s not coming. But the good news is that Jason Momoa basically beat him to it. Chief of War, now streaming on Apple TV+, is the spiritual successor no one expected. Think Apocalypto with a Polynesian twist, fewer decapitations (just barely), and a lot more of Jason Momoa’s naked behind.
Set in late-18th century Hawai‘i, Chief of War stars Momoa as Ka’iana, a Maui-born warrior who abandons battle and tries to find peace in Kaua’i, where he wrestles sharks and plans to raise a family. He’s got his brothers, his lovers, a little island paradise, and some mischievous kids rifling through his things. For about 10 minutes, it looks like this could be the island rom-com we didn’t know Momoa had in him. But, like every reluctant hero in every historical epic ever made, the past catches up. Cue colonialists, rival chiefs, and enough blood to repaint the Pacific.

If this sounds a bit like Shogun meets Apocalypto meets Game of Thrones, you’re not wrong. The production values are lush. It was filmed across Hawaii and New Zealand, and it shows. Every frame could be a screensaver. The score, courtesy of Hans Zimmer and James Everingham, is appropriately cinematic, but sometimes feels like it wandered in from a Zack Snyder film.
Still, Apple TV+’s Chief of War wears its ambition like full-body tribal ink. It’s unapologetically serious, sometimes to a fault. Yes, it can be slow. And yes, it can feel like someone pressed “solemn” on the remote and sellotaped the batteries in place, but even when it gets heavy or meandering, the performances keep you in it. Siua Ikale’o, Te Kohe Tuhaka, Te Ao o Hinepehinga, and Mainei Kinimaka all hold their own next to Momoa’s larger-than-life presence. They’re charming when needed, menacing when required, and never out of place in the rich world the show’s trying to build.
If you remember Apocalypto for its unrelenting tension, cultural immersion, and the fact that it somehow worked without a single word of English, Chief of War is a familiar drumbeat. Momoa’s series trades the Mayan jungles for island cliffs, but the DNA is similar: native storytelling, violent colonial disruption, and a lead character who communicates more with body language than dialogue.

Back in 2006, Apocalypto was divisive. Critics weren’t sure what to make of its brutal tone or Mel Gibson’s creative choices. But over time, it carved out a reputation as a bold, if chaotic, epic. Chief of War might be on a similar path. It’s not perfect. It stumbles. But it’s got a pulse. And it’s doing something we don’t see enough—bringing Indigenous stories to the screen, not as side plots, but as centre-stage epics.
So if you can stomach the violence, appreciate the artistry, and survive Jason mooning the camera (a lot), this is Momoa’s love letter to his roots. And for fans of Apocalypto, it might just scratch that itch. Even if you’re only tuning in to see Jason Momoa’s bare butt for 50 minutes straight.
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