“The Bondsman” review—Kevin Bacon’s devilish southern gothic is a genre-twisting ride through the afterlife

There is this popular saying in the world of Southern Gothic literature about darkness or evil: “When the Devil Comes Knocking, he always has company." This saying is embodied in Amazon Prime Video’s latest foray into the worlds of supernatural America, The Bondsman.

This story takes the phrase on a Georgia road trip for some soulful country music, with the gas pedal pressed all the way down, and the tailpipe scraping against the pavement. True to form, the genres of horror, dark comedy, and nostalgic musical undertones richly intertwine into a series that is strangely eerie yet irresistibly captivating.

At the heart—whether beating or still—is Kevin Bacon, who steps into the skin of Hub Halloran but not before striding back into life after death and, one may say, being a truly appealing presence on television.

A Devilish Premise

The Bondsman is set against the backdrop of Landry, Georgia, a town where the living and the dead intermingle in ways they shouldn’t. It opens on Hub Halloran (Bacon), an aging mercenary bounty hunter who is gunned down by people hired by Lucky Callahan (Damon Herriman), his ex-wife Maryanne’s (Jennifer Nettles) cartoonishly evil new boyfriend. But for him, death is only the beginning.

Through the efforts of Jolene Purdy as Midge Kusatsu, Hub is ‘rescued’ from the depths of hell that acts as a corporate afterlife. She explains to him the role that he has to undertake in order to stick around in the world.

Now Hub needs to masquerade as a mundane townsfolk until he finds out that the benevolent entities he's tasked to capture actually have demonic origins. If he doesn’t succeed, the flames of the afterlife become his eternal home. His world? It’s Ghost Rider meets Nashville, mixed with an ounce of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Kevin Bacon: Deadpan and Dead Man Walking

This is not the cheerfully dancing Bacon from Footloose nor the campy creature-fearing Bacon from Tremors. This is rather the stoic Bacon with age, who is half-immersed in whiskey, roiling with regret while dragging the shadow of his coffin behind him—a man who is stuck in limbo.

Bacon ambles through this role with the rhythm of a man longing to finish what he started. Although he begins the series in a near-comatose state, sleepwalking through early episodes, his performance is laced with grief and nuance as the show progresses.

There's something haunting about the way he carries himself—is it the burden of forgotten sins and lingering family ties he cannot shake off? His son Cade (Maxwell Jenkins) and his wife Maryanne are eternally etched in his brain, and no amount of will can erase the love he feels toward her.

Ghosts of Nic Cage’s vengeful spirits reside in Eastwood's Unforgiven, hinting towards a possible sly nod at the musical inclinations of Bacon himself.

Southern Gothic Meets Saturday Night at the Opry

The eerie atmosphere of The Bondsman, along with the blood-and-gore body count, could easily set it apart from other demon-hunting stories. However, what makes it unique is the inclusion of country music… Yes, country music.

The show makes it apparent that Hub and Maryanne were once a notable country duo, even incorporating it into the plot. Hub now only watches grainy VHS tapes of their glory days while Maryanne performs at The Boxcar, a local dive bar.

Eventually this nostalgia transforms from a mere… thematic window-dressing to serving as the show's emotional core. While some of the original songs performed by Bacon and Nettles may feel like indulgent detours, others definitely work, creating a tone that can be best described as somewhere between The Devil Went Down to Georgia and A Star Is Born.

Shifting from skin-peeling demons to acoustic duets is jarring, but that dissonance highlights the core of The Bondsman. A story where love and damnation are intricately intertwined together. Those who try to outrun the devil may have cowboy boots on, but make no mistake, the devil wears them too.

Uneven But Ambitious Storytelling

Not everyone finds The Bondsman a captivating watch. The “demon-of-the-week” framework is at times repetitive, especially when Hub dispatches each soul with a blend of strained monologues and gruff violence.

The special effects have their own issues—some of the body levitation and areas bursting into flames are visually appealing, but others look like they were taken from a low-budget sci-fi show from 2010.

The show’s strength lies in its captivating overarching questions. Why is this town special? Why these particular demons? And what did Hub do to deserve endless suffering? These overarching questions are intriguing enough to sustain interest beyond the episodic exorcisms.

The show is wonderfully enriched by the portrayal of a demonic bureaucrat with a warped sense of humor, Midge, infused with joy by Jolene Purdy. Beth Grant’s portrayal of Hub’s mama Kitty offers unexpected emotional depth to the show.

She plays the role of a Southern matriarch with a belief that second chances and casserole dishes go hand in hand. Her scenes with Bacon may be some of the most powerful depictions in the show.

The Verdict: Ride or Die (Again)

I'll happily give this an 8/10⭐

At its heart, The Bondsman is a show that captures the multifaceted elements of redemption—spiritual, familial, and musical. It also defies boundaries within any particular genre, which at once is its greatest strength and biggest stumbling block. For each spine-chilling reveal or haunting moment, there is a country ballad poised to derail the dread. For each poignant emotional beat, there is a half-hearted attempt at a 1973 job manual and demons paperwork.

But perhaps that is precisely the goal. Perhaps life—and death—in Landry, Georgia, is unfinished. It is about embracing the profound and the absurd in the same breath and singing your truth into the darkness.