Landman Keeps Striking

There isn’t anyone who’s had a run comparable to that of Taylor Sheridan, the writer/director/showrunner/guru who’s single-handedly kept the Paramount Plus streaming service afloat since its inception. If it was a novelty 25 years ago when Aaron Sorkin was credited as the writer behind every single episode of The West Wing, Sheridan’s ability to take full authorship of 11 original shows in less than a decade is unprecedented. Sheridan’s not known to reign in his indulgences, but Landman is perhaps most personal magnum opus of his filmography. 1923, 1883, and Yellowstone were all bound by a collective mythology that required a degree of consistency, and Tulsa King and Mayor of Kingstown needed to abide by the predictions of their notoriously “difficult” stars. With Landman, Sheridan has unloaded all of his thoughts on a multitude of topics, including everything from campus safe spaces to the necessity of eating breakfast; the messiness is a feature, not a bug.

What made Landman initially such a standout amongst streaming competitors is that Sheridan was never comfortable sticking within one line; the series is a crime thriller, a pitch-black family dramedy, a satire of West Texas cultural norms, and an epic of ambition and power. It wouldn’t be fair to characterize Landman as a procedural, because there’s nothing predictable about it, but the looseness in which Billy Bob Thornton’s Tommy Norris is flung between life-or-death scenarios gave Landman the freedom to never get too bogged down in its subtext. While entertaining, the show’s second season faced the ramifications of that degree of kinetic energy; Landman is so keen to become something else that it’s often unfocused.

Landman’s first season began with the graphic demise of several oil field workers in a valve explosion, but death is at the forefront of every character’s mind in the second installment. Tommy’s given a reminder how fleeting life is when his mother unexpectedly dies, which is enough to reconnect with his father T.L. (Sam Elliott). Mortality is also on the mind of Tommy’s erratic ex-wife, Angela (Ali Larter), whose active role in the rehabilitation of members of a senior community has resulted in unusual misadventures. Tommy’s daughter Ainsley (Michelle Randolph) is faced with the responsibilities of being an adult for the first time during her college admissions process, and his son Cooper (Jacob Lofland) has considered what a life with the young widow Ariana (Paulina Chávez) would look like if they married. That this burdened family can only convene during awkward dinners provided by an overenthusiastic Angela is a bleak joke.

The chaos of Landman means that Sheridan can choose which incidents have consequences. The physical therapy that T.L. has received from the exotic dancer Cheyenne (Francesca Xuereb) may exist solely for the sake of raunchy humor, but Elliot’s character can’t be entirely taken as a joke after a moving monologue in the episode “Dancing Rainbows,” in which he’s given the opportunity to reflect on his late wife. Similarly, the will-they-won’t-they between Cooper and Ariana would be a waste of time if it weren’t for a critical twist in the season’s back half, in which their love is trapped within a sticky legal case. Even Ainsley, a character whose daftness is baffling, is forced to somewhat mature from a spoiled brat to a legitimate college student who’s willing to defend her roommate against transphobic bullies. Sheridan will mock and sympathize with every character other than Tommy, who’s proven to be right more often than not. That doesn’t mean that he’s infallible, as Thornton conveys the frustration of someone whose competence has made it impossible for him to fully empathize with others.

Thornton’s performance is what has bound Landman together because there’s rarely been a better match between an actor and material; ever since his breakthrough with Sling Blade, Thornton has brought an unreadable, melancholy aura to characters that excel within a very specific trade. Although he’s been given roles that are both devastating (Monster’s Ball) and hilarious (Bad Santa), Thornton has inhabited the role of Tommy in a way that’s made his observations feel like improvisation. Even the dullest episode of Landman’s second season has great moments where Tommy can lambast The View for its political naivete and mutter vague insults about his ex-wife under his breath.

Whether Tommy could ever be a vulnerable protagonist is flipped on its head in season two when he’s faced with the ramifications of his mortality; years of preparation couldn’t have prevented Cooper from making a critical error in managing his new drill, and no amount of diplomacy could curb Angela’s meltdowns. The logical decision for Tommy as a businessman would be to cut these personal connections loose, but Landman has shown an interest in his humanity. It’s within the terrific finale of season two ”Tragedy and Flies,” that Sheridan has provided the show with a reset that points towards what Tommy’s endgame may be.

Provocation is a key to Landman’s success because it's not a show that can be watched passively; Sheridan was aware that the subplot of T.L.’s aquatic therapy would be clipped for viral videos, sparking outrage among cultural pundits, which is why he’s able to stop the season dead-in-its-tracks for sobering conversations about grief. Despite the accusations that the first season was propaganda for the oil business, Landman’s second season has shown the consequences of power held by wildcat billionaires like Cami Miller (Demi Moore), who’s convinced to partner with a cartel to fulfill the legacy of her late husband, Monty (Jon Hamm). The balancing act that Sheridan has pulled off with Landman is impressive because the show’s home runs are so satisfying that its misses barely register.