The Spin

Netflix's expansion of Dr. George Tann honors historical truth — a real Black physician who saved Laura Ingalls Wilder's family from malaria around 1870, treating settlers and Indigenous peoples alike with groundbreaking compassion in post-Civil War Kansas.

The Tea

Sims tells THR he's already seen the hate comments rolling in, with Megyn Kelly firing shots before a single page of script was written. Melissa Gilbert jumped to defend the project, pointing out the 1974 series was 'pretty woke' itself — and producers spent two decades trying to get this story told.

The Receipts

Netflix's adaptation drops July 9, expanding Tann from a single chapter cameo in Wilder's books to season one's central physician played by Sims across all episodes. The real Dr. George A. Tann was born circa 1835, served in the Union Army, and used the Homestead Act in 1869 to relocate to Montgomery County, Kansas.

The Last Byte

Twenty years in development, one Black doctor's expanded legacy — and Netflix is betting that telling true history will be worth every culture war grenade lobbed their way.

Netflix's upcoming 'Little House on the Prairie' adaptation has barely hit the promo circuit, but star Jocko Sims is already loading up for a fight. The actor, who portrays real-life Black physician Dr. George Tann in the streaming giant's July 9 release, tells The Hollywood Reporter he's prepared for the inevitable backlash from viewers who'll cry 'woke' at seeing a Black doctor centered in frontier America.

'We’ll get some hate, people calling it woke,' Sims admitted to THR. 'I’ve already seen a couple of people say, "Oh, they’re adding these characters in." Megyn Kelly took some shots before there was a page written.' The Dallas-born actor didn't flinch at the criticism — instead pointing to Melissa Gilbert's defense of the project: '"I don't know if you've seen the original show, but we were pretty woke,"' Sims recalled her saying.

Fair point. But that hasn't stopped the internet from sharpening their pitchforks before production even wrapped in Winnipeg, Manitoba. The controversy centers on Netflix's decision to elevate Tann from a footnote to a full-season character.

In Laura Ingalls Wilder's 1935 autobiography 'Pioneer Girl' and throughout her Little House series, Dr. George A. Tann appears in precisely one chapter — described as the Black eclectic physician who administered quinine that saved six-year-old Laura, her sister Mary, and parents Charles and Caroline from malaria around summer 1870 near Independence, Kansas.

The 1974 NBC series offered similarly brief portrayals through single-episode appearances by Black doctors like Dr. Caleb Ledoux (Don Marshall). Netflix's adaptation gives Sims the entire season to inhabit a man who treated white settlers, Black settlers, the Osage, and Cherokee peoples alike — something showrunner Rebecca Sonnenshine notes 'people now say that couldn't be, but it was true.' The real Tann was born around 1835 to a freed Pennsylvania family and served in the Union Army before using the Homestead Act in 1869 to relocate to Montgomery County.

Records indicate he practiced herbal remedies and physical therapy from homes and businesses, eventually opening at least one hospital funded by mineral rights on his purchased land. Sonnenshine acquired Eileen Charbo's out-of-print biography 'Doctor Fetched by the Family Dog: The Story of Dr. George A.

Tann, Pioneer Black Physician' to help ground their expanded depiction. 'Kansas joined the Union in 1861, and there was a real question of whether it was going to join as a slave state or a free state,' she explained. 'America's never been a white space, but in particular, Kansas.' Sims spent nearly a decade portraying Black doctors on medical dramas like 'The Resident' and 'New Amsterdam' — experiences that taught him representation matters in ways he didn't initially grasp.

'I didn't realize that I was actually affecting people on different levels who were watching,' he told THR. 'I would have mothers tweet me and say, "Thank you for representing Dr. Reynolds.

My son now wants to be a doctor."' That context makes Netflix's expansion of Tann meaningful beyond prestige TV credentials: Black doctors still comprise only 5.7 percent of all U.S. physicians despite their life-saving impact, which Sims highlights through his website MoreBlackDoctors.org. Costume designer Mitchell Travers approached Tann's visual representation as an act of historical restoration. 'We were at this crossroads in American history where there was even more prejudice than we have now prevailing,' he said.

'So it was very important as a freed Black man to communicate to people who you are ahead of time.' That meant silk prints, ascots, and handkerchiefs referencing 1840s fashion — textiles passed down like generational wealth for a man described in Wilder's account as having 'a deep voice' and 'rolling, jolly laugh' that charmed even the Ingalls' dog Jack, who 'hated strangers and never let one come near the house,' but 'begged him to come in.' Sims has already pitched a spin-off concept and intends to 'stay on the writers about' pursuing it.

'I feel there's so much there — not just with working with and taking care of Indigenous peoples, but the hospitals that he had in Oklahoma and Kansas,' he said. 'Then the Civil War aspect. What a life.' Whether Netflix's gamble pays off against whatever storm is coming remains to be seen.

But as Sims sees it: 'This is just telling true stories.' Twenty years of development hell, one expanded legacy, and a culture war waiting to ignite — buckle up. Little House on the Prairie premieres on Netflix July 9.

📰 Sources

Hollywood Reporter

📷 Arturo Holmes · Getty Images