We Need to talk about Taylor Sheridan

Can TV bring Americans together?

As the COVID shutdown was winding down, I was running an art house cinema out of town, and an easy way to get to know folks was to discuss whatever they were binge watching. Newly relocated and living much of the time away from home, despite having plenty of content to watch at work, the enthusiastic recommendations from my colleagues seemed they might offer some late-night company in my temporary home. Our lead programmer, a Latina with PhD in Film and strong background in female directed work, was almost giddy about a show called 1883, which, from the outside, looked like a right-wing nightmare of cowboys and Indians. She assured me it was not, and that I should take a look.

The creator’s name, Taylor Sheridan, I knew was connected to Yellowstone, which I had tried, and have still failed to watch much, as it strikes me as Dallas, except with nudity and more blood (the first episode alone stopped me cold with the gruesome portrayal of a horse involved in an accident with a truck). But I found myself quickly drawn into 1883. After all, there were pop-ups from Tom Hanks, Rita Wilson and Billy Bob Thornton. And Sam Elliott was a frequently onscreen, patron saint of all things Western. But the show was ably anchored by Faith Hill and Tim McGraw (who knew?) and had a standout performance by actress Isabel May, who created a character I loved so much I didn’t finish the series after she became so imperiled it was clear she would not make it to the end. The entire exercise of watching it was fascinating.

So, when 1923, Sheridan’s kind-of/sort-of sequel/prequel (to 1883 and Yellowstone, respectively) came around, I again found myself drawn in. Great casting, tight storytelling, unexpected plot turns, and a sense that a long story arc was building. Handsome rogues fighting great cats, a British blonde who leaps from a life of luxury into a scrappy, dangerous trek all for love, but mostly again, two rock star actors, Harrison Ford and Helen Mirren holding down the fort, literally, as the ancestors to the Dutton family, now fighting for their ranch on the land that the characters Hill and McGraw portrayed were risking their lives just to reach. Not to mention Timothy Dalton, playing a terrifying villain, and some of the most harrowing scenes, if there have ever been enough filmed to compare, of what life for Native American children forced into Catholic boarding schools was like, and the murder and rape of their families and land.

At this point I am questioning how I, a lefty liberal, is being so drawn into storylines that feel inches away from jingoistic delight in the destruction of all things North American pre the creation of The United States, and this is what is curious about Taylor Sheridan. Just when you think he is advocating for those who will become the historic victors, he creates villains and pathos that complicate your view. The ratings for his shows are through the roof, led by the aforementioned Yellowstone, especially after the storied conflict with its star, Kevin Costner, and his unceremonious departure from the show written to occur on a toilet seat.

So I started digging around. Whether he has written, produced, directed starred in or done all of the above, Sheridan is easily the most prolific guy working. This is not news. As an actor he is equally at home on a horse or in full combat gear. As a writer/producer he has been lauded at Sundance as well as clearly a high value creator of studio backed work. His opinions seem to lead themselves to the right of politics. He drops his distaste for green energy into more than one self-important monologue in multiple series. But its more than that. Tulsa King, Mayor of Kingstown, Sicario, Hell or High Water…the sheer number of movie stars that have or are working with him is staggering, which is legitimizing. And I haven’t even gotten to Lioness and Landman.

Lioness stars Zoe Saldana, who, given the number of popcorn movie series she stars in probably never has to work a day again, as the kick ass top member of a covert CIA military team. And her boss, also a woman, is Nicole Kidman (who seems to be in the most complicated marriage portrayed by Sheridan yet). The show feels gender bending, as Saldana’s character tries to balance being the working mom to her handsome, smart and loving dad of a husband. The writing is addictive, but the show is so in love with “America first”, writing it off with hollow victories that our heroes (and we) know will not change anything at all (except to keep America safe for another five minutes) that it is hard to root for. Teenage sex has consequences that are dealt with, child trafficking and the subjection of women in other countries are addressed. But it is also the show where gratuitous sex is most obvious, with Saldana often fully naked and more than one girl on girl scene with topless main characters. (I have not watched every minute of Taylor Sheridan’s work, but women on women, with agency or to degrade or violate, happens in multiple shows. I can’t recall the same with two male characters.) I almost hate myself for being drawn in by it, especially when Saldana’s character often just excuses her actions, which torture her, as “killing bad guys”.

Landman, however, is a triumph. Starring Billy Bob Thorton as the exhausted project manager of a vast oil field in Midland, Texas, the show somehow both celebrates and venerates not just the oil industry but both its critics and its proponents. And Ali Larter, an actress who had been written off to toil in horror films, is given such a meaty role as Thorton’s wife, she is a hero to every actress with a brain trapped in a bikini body. Letting every wrinkle show in her face but showing off her considerable physique, she gives a complex portrait as Thorton’s spouse who just loves him to death. She is selfish and manipulative and yet plays a scene where all she wants is to have a beautiful family dinner so truthfully, it’s like watching Callas sing an aria. But her character is inches away, as the daughter is, from caricature. Much has been made as well about Thorton’s scenes with his daughter, played by Michelle Randolph (also from 1923), and they are worth the watch, but mostly just for his reactions. Thorton is due for a lot of award recognition for this role. John Hamm and Demi Moore also appear, as well as other Sheridan favorites

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If everyone from every walk is watching the content Taylor Sheridan churns out, and the ratings seem to indicate this is so, we need to look far deeper into what Taylor Sheridan is saying. Is he simply playing both ends against the middle, to make rah-rah patriotic and often violent content palatable by throwing in storylines that speak to the perils of such actions? Or is he truly representing the majority of Americans, who may be far less divided than we are led to believe that we are, since many folks are watching these shows? Is Taylor Sheridan the key to Americans finding common ground?

Or rather, do we need to investigate that we as an audience have become so much less sophisticated, that it is easy to manipulate us into watching content that simply makes every stance OK for everybody?

Given how many award-winning movie stars work in his shows, given his own admirable work ethic and clear propensity for sticking with actors he loves again and again, I am a fan. It’s not Shakespeare, but is there enough of a through line in his incredibly entertaining work for us to agree on what we watch together?