“Little House on the Prairie” is an American institution. Laura Ingalls Wilder’s fictionalized semi-autobiographical accounts of growing up on the American frontier in the 1870s and 1880s have been wildly popular since the first book’s original publication in 1932 and have sold over 73 million copies. The beloved television adaptation starring Michael Landon and Melissa Gilbert was a formative influence for a generation of viewers and has never gone out of syndication since its original premiere. A sizable influx of new fans even found their way to the series during the pandemic, as the show offered viewers warm and necessary escapism during a particularly dark time.
While it’s unsurprising that a streamer like Netflix might want to take a crack at reimagining this classic for a new generation, any revival or reboot would need to walk a fine line between honoring what has come before and striking out on its own path. Good news: The streamer’s “Little House on the Prairie” re-imagining understands the assignment, and the result is a pleasant enough eight-episode drama that more than looks the part, without ever really challenging its audience or complicating its own depiction of life on the American frontier all that much.
Based on the third book in Wilder’s series of novels, “Little House” follows the Ingalls family as they leave the Big Woods of Wisconsin behind and journey into Kansas in search of a fresh start in the steadily expanding American West. Armed with a flyer promising free land, Charles (Luke Bracey) is optimistic about the family’s future, though his wife, Caroline (Crosby Fitzgerald), and daughters, Mary (Skywalker Hughes) and Laura (Alice Halsey), are sad to leave their old life behind.
Arriving in the aspirationally named Independence, the family settles in, fights off some dreadful CGI wolves, and builds a house for the winter as they get to know new neighbors and an assortment of other townsfolk who are also chasing their own idea of the new American dream. The vibes are relentlessly wholesome, the scenery almost offensively sun-drenched. In many ways, this is “Little House” by way of Instagram, and the show’s stories are largely surface-level affairs in which the family faces various challenges and triumphs over them through the power of love and community.
To be fair, the Netflix version does attempt to modernize the source material a bit, adding some necessary fresh perspectives to the classic story and addressing some of its more problematic elements. Black settlers serve key roles in the town’s larger economic ecosystem, including as its doctor (Jocko Sims) and the owner of the general store (Barrett Doss).
Independence’s women also have larger roles to play, from the snooty, try-hard wife of a wealthy railroad executive (Mary Holland) to a decidedly non-traditional widow (Rebecca Amzallag) who wears trousers and cherishes her own personal freedom. And this “Little House” makes a point to acknowledge that the Ingalls—and hundreds of other settlers just like them—came to Kansas to settle on land that did not belong to them and that, technically, was not up for grabs.
Unlike the original TV series, where the Osage are only present in its pilot episode, the tribe has a major role to play throughout the season, and the show purposefully establishes the Ingalls’ neighbors, the Mitchells, as a sort of Indigenous mirror to the town’s white families, complete with a precocious young daughter (Wren Zhawenim Gotts) who becomes Laura’s best friend. However, while these are all welcome changes, this “Little House” isn’t a remake that’s interested in rocking the proverbial boat or straying particularly far from the traditional themes and the pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps aesthetic that made the original series so popular. Family is paramount. Resilience is necessary. And community is the only way to survive.
Yes, the Ingalls clan faces its share of setbacks, from wild animal attacks and money troubles to outbreaks of crippling fever. But none of their problems ever feels too perilous or lasts for all that long. Everything is surprisingly clean, lost animals are always found, and broken bones mend cleanly without keeping anyone away from their chores for longer than strictly necessary. Even petty sisterly jealousies are resolved fairly quickly, and there’s basically no problem that singing songs together or a night of fiddle music can’t solve.
If you’re looking for anything approaching a realistic depiction of the difficulties of carving out a life in an untamed wilderness, well. This isn’t that show. On the plus side, fans of the original will undoubtedly be relieved that this reboot isn’t the dark and gritty reimagining that many likely feared. But “Little House” plays it so safe in the storytelling choices that it never manages to be all that interesting, either.
To its credit, the show is beautiful to look at, full of sweeping landscapes, picturesque vistas, and beautiful sunsets. And its characters remain recognizably familiar, merely given new shades and layers. Caroline and Charles are treated as fully formed figures who exist beyond the simple “Ma” and “Pa” archetypes, and both are allowed to question whether they’re truly meant for life on the frontier.
Sadly, the show never does all that much with the oft-hinted problems the family appears to have left behind in Wisconsin, or the apparent lingering tension between Caroline’s family and her husband. Bracey and Fitzgerald have warm, believable chemistry, and Warren Christie turns in a solid supporting performance as a troubled neighbor and Civil War veteran who essentially imprints on the Ingalls family. But the series’s true star is Halsey, who, at just ten years old, steals the entire show.
Any “Little House” remake will naturally live and die by its Laura, and Halsey is a delight, spunky and bold in a way that occasionally feels too modern, but is endlessly charming throughout. Given the often thankless task of playing the more responsible (read: dull) older sister, Hughes holds her own as a Mary who’s trying to navigate her own coming of age—Crushing on a boy! Wanting her own life!—even as circumstances prevent her from being but so independent.
Netflix’s “Little House on the Prairie” is the kind of remake that’s essentially designed in a lab to appeal to the broadest possible swath of viewers. That’s not necessarily a criticism—the experience of watching the show is perfectly enjoyable. But it’s difficult not to wonder what a version of this show that wasn’t quite so aggressive…adequate might have been like.
All eight episodes screened for review. Premieres July 9 on Netflix.
