If you're craving more of the raw, unforgiving West that Taylor Sheridan brought to life in 1923, there's a hidden gem on Netflix that deserves your attention. Godless, a seven-part miniseries that debuted in 2017, quietly revolutionized the Western genre years before Sheridan's Yellowstone universe took over television. Created, written, and directed entirely by Scott Frank—best known for The Queen's Gambit—this gritty saga earned critical acclaim, multiple Emmy Awards, and a devoted fanbase for its unflinching portrayal of the Old West.
Set in the late 19th century, Godless strips away the romanticism of cowboys and outlaws, replacing it with a harsh, violent realism that feels like a spiritual predecessor to 1923. Both series share a focus on land wars, desperate ranchers, and a changing frontier where survival comes at a brutal cost. But where 1923 stars Harrison Ford and Helen Mirren as a couple fighting to hold onto their Montana ranch, Godless centers on a mining town in New Mexico that's been stripped of its men—and the women who must defend it.
What Is 'Godless' About?
The story kicks off with a bloody massacre in Creede, Colorado, orchestrated by the vicious outlaw Frank Griffin (Jeff Daniels) and his gang. Griffin is hunting down Roy Goode (Jack O'Connell), a former gang member who fled with their latest loot after a train robbery. As Griffin and his men tear across the West, leaving a trail of bodies, Goode takes refuge in La Belle, New Mexico—a once-thriving mining town now nearly deserted after a disaster killed most of its male population.
Goode hides out on the ranch of Alice Fletcher (Michelle Dockery), a widow shunned by the town for her marriage to a Native American man. Along with her son, Truckee (Samuel Marty), and mother-in-law, Ivoyi (Tantoo Cardinal), Alice reluctantly takes Goode in. As he helps around the ranch, a bond forms—but Griffin's relentless pursuit means a showdown is inevitable. The town's women, led by the fierce Mary Agnes (Merritt Wever), prepare for a final, bloody battle.
Jeff Daniels' Emmy-Winning Villain Steals the Show
Jeff Daniels delivers a career-defining performance as Frank Griffin, a villain who sees himself as a god. What makes Griffin so chilling is his duality: he's both a preacher and a murderer, often wearing a preacher's collar as he commits horrific acts. Daniels won an Emmy for Best Supporting Actor in a Limited Series for this role, and it's easy to see why. His character's signature line—"I've seen how I die, and this ain't it"—becomes a haunting refrain as he grows more unhinged, even carrying a gangrenous arm after a gunshot wound in Episode 1. The arm serves as a metaphor for the rot and greed consuming him.
Merritt Wever also won an Emmy for her role as Mary Agnes, the sheriff's sister who steps up to lead the town's defense. Her performance, along with strong turns from Jack O'Connell, Michelle Dockery, and a supporting cast including Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Sam Waterston, elevates Godless into a must-watch for any Western fan.
How 'Godless' Paved the Way for Taylor Sheridan's Westerns
Before 1923 and the Yellowstone universe, the Western genre was considered all but dead on television. Godless helped revive it by embracing a gritty, realistic approach that prioritized character depth and moral ambiguity over clichés. Scott Frank's direction and writing—he handled every episode—created a world where good and evil are blurred, and survival is the only law. This same ethos defines Taylor Sheridan's work, from Yellowstone to 1923, making Godless the perfect companion piece for fans of his shows.
If you're looking for a series that captures the same desolate beauty and brutal stakes as 1923, Godless is your next binge. With its Emmy-winning performances, stunning cinematography, and a story that refuses to sentimentalize the West, it's a landmark miniseries that deserves a spot in your queue. And for those who want to explore more of Netflix's evolving content strategy, check out our piece on Netflix's Dad TV Era or the Top 10 Sci-Fi Neo-Noir Films that push genre boundaries.
