At its core, Kingdom is a family drama — but “family” here doesn’t just mean the Kulina clan. Many of the characters’ relationships form family-like structures: the Navy Street gym collective; Christina, who lives with webcam models and essentially plays the role of their mother; or Ryan, who lives with Keith and takes care of him like a child (and Keith behaves accordingly — throwing tantrums, demanding attention, even running away from home once).

In fact, almost every secondary character’s role is to test these relationships. Alicia embodies selfishness, opportunism, and a lack of attachment to anyone. Dominic, the temporary coach in season three, represents duplicity and hypocrisy disguised as loyalty. Keith kills the man he feared most in order to protect Ryan, while Chapas blows his own brains out because he couldn’t bring himself to cheat his old friend Alvey.

But the main focus, of course, remains on the Kulina family, who face the harshest trials — most often connected to the deaths of loved ones. The family’s fragile sense of unity is maintained by one character in particular, who for most of the series hides in the shadows of the others.

That unassuming character is Nate Kulina — the quiet one whose face rarely shows emotion throughout the series. This isn’t bad acting or weak writing; it’s a deliberate choice by the creators to distinguish him from the highly emotional characters like Jay, Alvey, and Ryan. Even Nate’s being gay underscores how different he is — because he’s actually the key figure in the entire story.

Behind the image of a “boring guy” who spends his free time playing video games lies a strong personality, quietly resolving not only his own problems but those of his family. Nate’s defining trait — the one that sets him apart from Alvey, Jay, and Christina — is that he isn’t selfish. And it’s selfishness that lies at the root of the Kulinas’ tragedies, including the most devastating one: Nate’s death in the finale. His end isn’t as unexpected as it might seem.

The very first episode of Kingdom opens with Alvey jogging along Venice Beach, where he gets into a confrontation with two Mexican gangsters. One pulls a gun on him, but Alvey — the seasoned fighter — takes them both down. It seems like a clean win, but this incident becomes the starting point for Alvey’s arc: his inability to control his emotions or consider the consequences of his actions for himself and those around him.

The gangsters later track him down and ambush his son Nate, beating him brutally and sending a message to Alvey. Two seasons later, Alvey’s selfishness leads to a similar situation — except this time, it’s Nate who faces the gun, and the trigger is pulled. The story comes full circle, and Alvey’s karma catches up with him, setting the stage for a finale that is devastating yet dramaturgically perfect.

“The highest aim of storytelling is to lead the audience’s emotions to a maximum — what the Ancient Greeks called catharsis: the cleansing of the soul through fear and compassion.”
— Alexander Mitta, Cinema Between Hell and Paradise

Catharsis comes from a carefully designed hero’s journey that ends in irreversible change. Typically, this change is triggered by external circumstances — think of Groundhog Day, where Bill Murray’s character evolves from a selfish jerk into a decent man because of the time loop.

For Alvey, the transformation comes through Nate’s death. Holding his dying son in his arms forces him, for the first time, to think about others’ feelings. Jay’s words in the finale make it explicit: Alvey, Jay, and Christina are all irredeemable egoists.

This revelation changes Alvey. For much of season three, we saw him as a broken man, numbing his pain and loneliness with alcohol and prostitutes — just like his friend Chapas, who eventually killed himself. But in the final episode, for the first time, Alvey musters all his willpower, silently prepares for a fight in Nate’s spirit, and wins. Yet the series ends there, leaving us uncertain of what comes next: Will Alvey follow Chapas’s path? Will Jay and Christina overcome their addictions? These unanswered questions stir both fear for the characters we’ve grown to love and deep compassion for their fates.

In my review, I mentioned Kingdom’s use of a diegetic soundtrack but didn’t explain it. This technique involves music that exists within the story world — heard not only by the audience but by the characters themselves. For example, it might come from a character’s headphones, a car radio, or a jukebox in a bar.

This approach brings the viewer into the same space and time as the characters, making scenes more immersive. It’s also a favorite device of Quentin Tarantino, a well-known music lover: he picks songs from his personal vinyl and CD collection, and his characters often interact with instruments, record players, jukeboxes, or radios directly on screen.

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