The Purge Review: Two Seasons, Twenty Episodes, One Problem

“The Purge” arrived on USA Network in September 2018 with a strong premise and a thin budget of ideas. James DeMonaco, who created the film series, built a dystopian America ruled by a totalitarian political party that sanctions a 12-hour period every year. During that window, all crime is legal — vandalism, theft, arson, murder. The show ran two seasons and 20 episodes, from September 4, 2018 to December 17, 2019. USA Network canceled it in May 2020, citing low viewership. The published critical score sits at 4.4/10, with a Metacritic mark of 44/100. That number is fair.

Trailer, via USA Network.

Miguel Guerrero and the Purge Night of 2027

Season one takes place in 2027. It follows several characters who appear unconnected at first. Miguel Guerrero is a Marine searching for his sister Penelope, who has joined a government-backed death cult. Jane Barbour is an executive who uses Purge Night for revenge. Jenna and Rick Betancourt are married entrepreneurs who attend a Purge party hoping to pull investment capital from a wealthy Purge supporter.

The casting was announced in stages. Gabriel Chavarria and Jessica Garza came aboard in February 2018 as Miguel and Penelope. Amanda Warren and Colin Woodell were cast in March as Jane and Rick. April brought Lili Simmons, Hannah Emily Anderson, Lee Tergesen and William Baldwin as Lila Stanton, Jenna Betancourt, Joe and David Ryker. Fiona Dourif was cast in May as Good Leader Tavis.

That is a lot of names for a season that never gives most of them room to breathe. The show wants to be an anthology and a serial at once, and it ends up neither.

A Second Season With Derek Luke and Max Martini

In November 2018, USA Network renewed the show. Season two premiered October 15, 2019, with a new cast. Derek Luke, Max Martini, Paola Núñez and Joel Allen joined as series regulars, announced in June 2019. Cindy Robinson reprised her role as the voice of the Purge Emergency Broadcast System from the films, this time appearing as the character Megan Lewis.

The second season begins as the annual Purge Night of 2036 closes. It follows characters dealing with the aftermath and investigating conspiracies in the year before the next purge in 2037. One thread involves ex-police officers who have become bank robbers. Another follows an NFFA detective looking into the suspicious killing of a scientist friend, who finds that many peers have also died in suspicious circumstances. A third follows college fraternity members who went out on Purge Night for a scavenger hunt, then had to defend themselves and deal with PTSD. A fourth follows a husband and wife who survive an assailant, only to learn it was a hitman sent for the husband, and start asking why.

The show is set between the films “Anarchy” and “Election Year.” That placement should matter. It rarely does.

The God Mask and the Acting Bubble

Two cast comments are worth keeping. Joel Allen, at New York Comic Con 2019, described the use of the films’ God mask in the series as “like a gift from the writers.” Hannah Emily Anderson, in a July 2020 interview, talked about the season one finale: “It was so satisfying and exhilarating. Colin Woodell and Lee Tergesen were right there with me. We made it as real as we could for ourselves, and everything else faded away. We were in our precious little acting bubble. Those are the best moments.”

Anderson is describing the best part of the job. She is not describing the show. The gap between what the actors built on set and what reached the screen is the whole problem.

What the 12-Hour Window Actually Delivers

Here is what the franchise mechanic gives a writer, and what “The Purge” does with it:

• A legal window for any crime, which should force every character into a moral corner.
• A totalitarian party that owns the night, which should make the state a character.
• A clock, which should generate pressure in every scene.
• A country, which should look like somewhere people live.

The series uses the first and forgets the rest. The Purge Night itself becomes a backdrop for stories that could be told on any other night with the crimes made illegal. The politics stay abstract. The clock ticks, but nothing tightens.

Ranking the Threads

Judged only on what the show puts on screen, the storylines sort like this:

1. The NFFA detective investigating the dead scientist. It has an actual question at its center and a reason to keep pulling.
2. The husband and wife and the hitman. Thin, but it moves, and the reveal gives it somewhere to go.
3. The ex-police officers turned bank robbers. Serviceable, forgettable.
4. The fraternity scavenger hunt and the PTSD that follows. The most interesting idea, handled with the least patience.

The first season’s threads — Miguel and Penelope, Jane, the Betancourts — sit below all four. Revenge and investment capital are not the same weight, and the show treats them as if they were.

Two Seasons, Twenty Episodes, One Problem

“The Purge” is not badly made. It is made for a smaller canvas than it keeps claiming. The cast is capable, the premise is proven, and the anthology structure should let each season start clean. Instead the show spreads itself across too many characters, gives each one a fraction of an hour, and asks the audience to care on schedule.

The published score of 4.4/10 lands where it should. A 44 on Metacritic is not a verdict on the idea. It is a verdict on execution. The films had 12 hours and a single night to burn. The show had 20 episodes and never found a reason to need them.

The detail that matters most is the cancellation in May 2020. Low viewership is the stated cause, and it is the honest one. Two seasons is not a tragedy for a show that never solved its own structure. It is a mercy.

cancelled shows · dystopian TV · James DeMonaco · The Purge · TV Review · USA Network