Reviewing House of David: A Biblical Epic with Strengths and Struggles

As a Christian, I often approach television adaptations of biblical stories with a mix of excitement and caution. The Bible is a sacred text, rich with history, theology, and divine truth, so any attempt to bring its narratives to the screen must be handled with care. Amazon Prime Video’s House of David, a new series chronicling the early life of King David, has caught my attention. Having watched roughly half of the first season, I’m eager to share my thoughts on how closely it aligns with the biblical account, its strengths as a production, and where it takes creative liberties. I hope to give you my thoughts, encouraging discernment while appreciating the show’s efforts to bring Scripture to life.

Be My AI: A wooden slingshot lying on sandy ground in a desert-like environment. The slingshot is positioned upright, casting a long shadow due to the low angle of the sun, which is either rising or setting in the background. The ground is covered with small pebbles and a few larger stones scattered around. In the distance, there are blurred silhouettes of hills or mountains under a clear sky. The lighting creates a warm, golden tone across the scene.

A Faithful Foundation with Creative Flourishes

House of David centres on the early years of David, the shepherd boy who becomes Israel’s greatest king, with the first season building towards his iconic confrontation with Goliath. The show draws primarily from 1 Samuel 13–18, faithfully depicting key moments such as Samuel’s anointing of David and David’s role as a harpist in King Saul’s court. The prophet Samuel, portrayed by Stephen Lang, is a commanding presence, embodying the gravitas of a God-ordained seer. King Saul (Ali Suliman) and other biblical figures, like Jonathan and Michal, are all present, grounding the narrative in the scriptural framework. For those familiar with David’s life as depicted in the Bible, the core story is recognisable, and the show strives to honour the essence of these events.

However, the Bible provides sparse details about David’s early life, leaving gaps that House of David fills with creative storytelling. This poetic licence is understandable—television demands a fleshed-out narrative to sustain an eight-episode season. For example, the show introduces subplots, such as a fictional romance between David and Michal that unfolds earlier than in Scripture, and explores David’s family dynamics, including a tradition suggesting he was an outcast due to his birth circumstances. While these additions add drama, they occasionally stray from the biblical text. The David of Scripture is marked by unwavering faith and courage, but the show sometimes portrays him as rebellious or uncertain, which feels inconsistent with his biblical character. As long as these embellishments don’t contradict the Bible’s core truths, I find them generally acceptable for a dramatic adaptation, though they require discernment.

I found some of the shows portrayal of David a little inconsistent at times. Even as a young man, watching the flocks, my impression from the Bible is that he had unwavering courage. The show often depicts him as quite fearful, and although he faces those fears Even tackling a lion, the show does not depict him as the man I imagine from reading the Bible. I am the 1st to admit that could be my problem, and perhaps there is some realism in a younger David learning to face his fears and develop courage as he matures. But it’s something to look out for and consider. 

Strengths: Engaging Storytelling and High Production Value

One of the standout qualities of House of David is its production quality. Filmed in Greece, the series boasts stunning cinematography, with sweeping landscapes and detailed sets that immerse viewers in the ancient Near Eastern world. The costumes and battle scenes are meticulously crafted, lending authenticity to the period. The acting is another strength—Michael Iskander’s portrayal of David captures his musicality and heart, even if the character occasionally deviates from the biblical archetype. Ali Suliman’s Saul is particularly compelling, portraying a king torn between divine calling and personal pride, a dynamic that mirrors 1 Samuel 15’s account of his disobedience.

The show’s pacing is steady, allowing relationships—such as David’s friendship with Jonathan or his tensions with Saul—to develop naturally. It explores themes of faith, obedience, and destiny, which resonate deeply with Christian viewers. The inclusion of David’s love for music, with Hebrew psalms woven into the narrative, adds a spiritually rich layer, reminding us of his role as the “sweet psalmist of Israel”.

Areas of Concern: Darkness and Supernatural Elements

House of David doesn’t shy away from the grittier aspects of the biblical world. The battle scenes, while not gratuitous, are reasonably violent, reflecting the harsh realities of the time. This aligns with the historical context but may be intense for younger viewers, so parental discretion is advised.

More concerning is the show’s emphasis on witchcraft and supernatural elements, particularly among Israel’s enemies. For instance, a subplot involving the Amalekite king Agag casting spells and references to giants as descendants of fallen angels lean heavily into fantasy. While these elements draw from biblical and postbiblical traditions, they risk sensationalising the narrative, making it feel more like a fantasy epic than a historical drama. The Bible mentions spiritual forces, but House of David amplifies these, sometimes veering into speculative territory, such as an early meeting with the Witch of Endor, which is entirely fabricated.

Clearly the Bible is a supernatural book. There are many references to God in the show, and we know from the biblical text that the enemies of Israel did worship false idols and have detestable practices which led to God‘s judgement on them. So I’m not criticising the show for supernatural elements, Merely pointing out that we ought to handle this material with care. 

A Reminder to Return to Scripture

I haven’t watched The Chosen, a series often compared to House of David for its biblical storytelling, but I assume it shares a similar approach: blending scriptural fidelity with dramatic interpretation. House of David is an engaging watch, and I’m eager to finish the season. Its success—reaching #2 on Prime Video’s most-watched list and drawing 22 million viewers in its first 17 days—shows its broad appeal. However, as Christians, we must use such adaptations as a springboard, not a substitute, for studying the Bible. Shows like this can spark interest in Scripture, but they also remind us to verify what we see against the Word of God.

In conclusion, House of David is a visually stunning, well-acted series that largely captures the spirit of David’s early life, though it takes notable creative liberties. It’s a compelling blend of faith and drama, but its darker themes and supernatural flourishes require discernment. I encourage viewers to enjoy it as historical fiction while returning to 1 Samuel to anchor their understanding in truth. Let’s use this series to deepen our engagement with the Bible, ensuring we know what is—and isn’t—biblical.

Sci-fi Side Step: Transformers – Rise of the Beasts 

Continuing the theme of TV and movie reviews I kicked off last week, I thought I’d turn my hand to writing about Transformers: Rise of the Beasts. As a sci-fi fan with fond memories of watching the Transformers cartoon and animated movie as a boy—probably the peak of Transformers for me—I hoped this one might deliver. It didn’t. (I’ll be digging into plot details about particular characters, so if you don’t want to know what happens, watch the movie first.)

A TV on a wooden stand in front of a white wall 

This installment whisks us back to 1994, where Autobots tangle with a new threat: Scourge, a brutal enforcer for the world-devouring Unicron. Optimus Prime leads the charge, Bumblebee’s along for the ride, and a Transwarp Key holds the key to Earth’s fate. It’s the classic Transformers setup—robots, relics, and relentless stakes—but it left me feeling meh. I’ve caught a few of these films over the years, and this one blurred into the pack: loud, busy, and instantly forgettable. I walked away somewhat indifferent.

The visuals deliver what fans crave. Robots morph with a clang, cities quake under their weight, and the 90s retro vibe adds a nostalgic twist. I perked up for Mirage, the slick Porsche 911 Turbo who struts into the Autobot roster. I’ve always had a thing for Porsche sports cars, so his flashy flair and smooth moves were a rare jolt of joy. Seeing Optimus Prime and Bumblebee again felt like greeting old pals, but even their shine couldn’t shake the sameness of it all.

What dragged it down was its lack of bite. The villain, Scourge, is exactly like every other Transformers villain—a growling hulk with no real edge. He’s mean, he’s metal, but he’s nothing I haven’t seen before. The story chugs along on autopilot, piling on action without building tension or surprise. The one attempt to mix things up comes with the Maximals—animal-like robots led by Optimus Primal, a gorilla, and featuring Airazor, a hawk-type bird. It’s the really only stab at setting this apart from its predecessors, but it doesn’t add anything new—just more robots with a different look, slotted into the same old formula. Even the finale, where human hero Noah fuses with Transformer parts into an Iron Man-like superhero to fight Scourge, feels like a borrowed beat—less inspired than Tony Stark’s sleek ingenuity. I missed a hook to care about, something to lift it beyond the franchise’s usual roar.

One scene did linger: Bumblebee’s death and revival. Scourge takes him down early—a shock that lands hard—but an Energon burst later resurrects him in a blaze of hope. It struck me as a faint echo of Jesus—dying to save others, rising to turn the tide. In Scripture, Christ’s sacrifice and return redefine everything; here, it’s just a plot beat to cheer for. The movie doesn’t dwell on it, racing back to the chaos, but that flicker of meaning gave me pause in an otherwise forgettable blur.

As for content, it’s heavy on robot-on-robot violence—metal limbs clashing, sparks flying—and there’s the occasional profanity tossed in. From memory, it’s not too much to worry about otherwise; it’s standard blockbuster fare that leans hard into action over anything else. I took it in stride, though it’s not winning any awards for subtlety.

Optimus Prime still commands with that deep, noble voice, brought to life by Peter Cullen, who’s been voicing him consistently since that animated movie I loved as a boy—great to hear that continuity after all these years. Bumblebee’s scrappy charm endures, even after his brief exit. Mirage steals scenes with his Porsche swagger, but Scourge? He’s a blank slate of bad—forgettable as the humans scurrying around the edges. The whole thing feels like a rerun with a 90s playlist slapped on top.

So, Rise of the Beasts? It’s a polished shrug—decent if you’re hooked on Transformers, but it won’t sway the unconvinced. I didn’t dislike it; I just didn’t feel it. Mirage was a win, and that Jesus-parallel with Bumblebee stuck with me, but it’s not enough to call it special. It’s the same Transformers flick I’ve seen before, repackaged and fading fast from memory. Have you seen it? Drop a comment with your thoughts—I’d love to hear what you made of this one!

Sci-fi Side step: Halo, the TV show 

I’m venturing into new waters with this piece, shifting from my usual Bible-centered reflections to try my hand at TV critique. I don’t watch television often—life’s too full for that—so when I do, I’m hoping for something truly standout. Recently, I tuned into the Halo series on Netflix UK, and it left me with thoughts worth sharing. With a lifelong passion for science fiction and fond memories of playing the original Halo game on Xbox (though I never bothered with the sequels), this adaptation gave me plenty to chew on—both as a story and as a spark for bigger questions.

A television on a wooden stand in front of a white wall 

Set in the 26th century, Halo follows Master Chief John-117 as he leads humanity against the Covenant, a zealous alliance of alien races bent on our destruction—a premise that echoes the game’s core of a lone, armored hero standing tall. I’ve always been drawn to that idea, and it tugged at me as I watched. But while the concept hooked me, the show itself landed in a middling spot—not exceptional, yet not entirely skippable either, just hovering at “okay.” As I watched, I kept telling myself I’d give the next episode another try—one more chance to grab me—but it never quite did. I pressed on to the end, though it didn’t leave me itching to dive into more.

Visually, it’s a treat. The sleek ships, alien landscapes, and bursts of action deliver the polish you’d expect from a big-budget sci-fi effort. One standout for me was Cortana, Master Chief’s AI sidekick, whose sharp wit and surprising humanity won me over. In a genre where artificial intelligence often swings between savior or doom, she’s a refreshing take—showing the wonder of human creation without tipping too far. I found myself mulling over what we craft and its limits, even if the show doesn’t chase those threads far.

Where Halo stumbles, though, is in its pacing and depth. It drags at times, bogged down by a subplot that feels tacked on rather than essential, and I kept waiting for the tension to ramp up—only it never quite did. I couldn’t help comparing it to Disney’s The Mandalorian, another tale of a helmeted loner in a rough galaxy; while they share some DNA, Halo’s action lacks the same tight, thrilling pull. I also missed the Flood, those nightmarish parasites from the game, whose absence left the stakes feeling lower than they could’ve been.

Another character who caught my eye was Dr. Catherine Halsey. She’s complex—a woman who’ll use any means to achieve her goals, which might be noble in intent but get murky in practice. That tension between good aims and flawed paths intrigued me, reflecting how often life blurs those lines.

On content, Halo keeps it gritty but not over-the-top. There’s mild swearing and violence—fitting for a war-torn setting, though worth noting if you prefer gentler fare. It didn’t bother me much, but it’s not exactly cozy viewing either.

Master Chief himself offers the richest ground for reflection. Unmasked more than in the game I loved, he’s given a raw edge through Pablo Schreiber’s quiet, steady performance—a soldier hinting at something deeper, shifting from weapon to protector. It’s a thread I wanted more of, though the show stops short of diving in fully, leaving his arc dangling just out of reach.

So where does that leave Halo? It’s a mixed bag—a slick sci-fi romp that flirts with big ideas but doesn’t commit, fine for genre fans if you temper your hopes. For me, it didn’t hit the “really good” mark I crave when I carve out TV time, despite my nostalgia for the original game. Still, it sparked some pondering—about creation, rescue, and the stories we tell—and that’s worth something. I don’t wander into this space often, but maybe I’ll make it a habit, posting on Saturdays about TV or movies in this style. What do you think? Drop a comment—I’d love to hear if this detour resonates with you!