Don't Move

Directors: Adam Schindler and Brian Netto
Starring: Kelsey Asbille, Finn Wittrock, Moray Treadwell, Daniel Francis
Running Time: 92 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)    

You'd figure the lesson to extract from directors Adam Schindler and Brian Netto's efficiently suspenseful Netflix thriller Don't Move is that traveling alone to a secluded park early in the morning isn't the best idea. But after the unimaginable loss this film's heroin suffers, personal safety wouldn't be a priority. She's there to kill herself, or at least that's the plan. And once we know the details of her pain, the motivation is clearer, regardless of our feelings about the choice. What happens instead not only gives her an incentive to live, but fight, much to her assailant's frustration. 

Calculated in certain ways but immensely sloppy in others, her abductor has a plan, but as one mistake leads to another, he'll have to contend with a resourceful protagonist who won't give in. That she contemplated suicide only minutes earlier is the cruel irony of a script that wrings tension out of how helplessly insulting it is to have a psychotic stranger decide your fate. Produced by Sam Raimi, it seems like the type of project you'd see him tackling in his early days, which isn't to say it's flawless by any stretch. But with a premise keeps you engaged for a tight, pulse pounding hour and a half, it wisely utilizes its ticking clock to raise the stakes and generate suspense.

Still grieving the accidental death of her son Mateo during a family hike, Iris (Kelsey Asbille) gets up early to drive to a California state park while her husband sleeps in bed. After placing Mateo's toy boat at his memorial under a tree, she approaches the edge of the cliff and prepares to jump before being interrupted by Richard (Finn Wittrock), a seemingly concerned passerby out for a walk.

When the two converse over the shared pain of losing a loved one, Iris has second thoughts, only to have Richard taze and kidnap her. Zip tied in the back of his car, she struggles to escape before discovering his backup plan. Earlier, he injected her with a paralyzing agent, its effects now just starting to take hold as she desperately crawls through the woods. Losing all muscle control and the ability to speak, Iris's breathing rapidly slows while a deranged Richard closes in, looking to finish her for good.

Much of the setup takes place before its title credits, but once this stranger reveals his true colors, he immediately starts making errors. Either he's playing mind games or the mental stress of leading a Dexter-like double life stand as the only feasible explanations for his carelessness. Luckily, Wittrock (who resembles a crazed Johnny Knoxville) injects some life into the somewhat tired trope of normal family man with a dark side, ensuring his character's instability accounts for any logic gaps. And while he could still use about five more contingency plans, his biggest problem is assuming he'll have all the time in the world to kill Iris. Though her paralysis comes on fast, the drug's effects will eventually wear off, if she can make it that long.

Those familiar with Asbille through TV's Yellowstone are in for a surprise when they see what she does in a more challenging role that requires her to go long, motionless stretches in total silence, using only her eyes and breathing to communicate the escalating severity of this life and death predicament. It's especially noticeable in an extended cabin sequence where her mute, incapacitated character hides in plain sight, watching in horror as Richard manipulates the residence's owner. Or a tension-filled stop at a gas station where she competes against her own failing body in a last ditch effort to seek help. 

The longer this goes the lower Iris's survival odds drop, and while it's a stretch to call Don't Move unpredictable, it does have some clever tricks up its sleeve in how she manages to turn the tables. So while you could still pick it apart, this has less issues than most in the genre, as well as a high concept carrying it through. The closest comparison is 2024's acclaimed cult hit Strange Darling, minus the twisty, non-linear storytelling. What does unfold is a similar cat-and-mouse game between a killer and their prey, as this sadistic control freak terrorizes a woman with nothing left to lose.                                

Yellowstone (Season 3)

 

Creators: Taylor Sheridan and John Linson

Starring: Kevin Costner, Luke Grimes, Kelly Reilly, Wes Bentley, Cole Hauser, Kelsey Asbille, Brecken Merrill, Jefferson White, Gil Birmingham, Josh Holloway, Ian Bohen, Denim Richards, Jennifer Landon, Eden Brolin, Forrie J. Smith, Wendy Moniz, Ryan Bingham, Karen Pittman, Q'orianka Kilcher, Michael Nouri, Gretchen Mol, Josh Lucas, Will Patton

Original Airdate: 2020

 
★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)    

 

**The Following Review Contains Major Spoilers For The Third Season of 'Yellowstone' **

 

It was only a matter of time. For the past two seasons the threat of the Yellowstone Dutton Ranch being targeted for purchase by land developers has become increasingly imminent, whether John Dutton (Kevin Costmer) likes it or not. And of course, as we've come to know the character it's been no secret that he'd rather die than give up the ranch left to him by his father and he spent decades operating. Now, it may come to that, as Montana's powerful influential Livestock Commissioner is experiencing somewhat of a fall from grace in the third season of Paramount Network's Yellowstone. Having exhausted nearly every political loophole, bribed politicians and law enforcement and vanquished most of his enemies, it seemed at the end of last season that he'd finally cleared the board and could take a long, deep breath. 

 

You could almost say that peaceful calm appears to have washed over the Dutton patriarch as we start a season that could lead to his ultimate "unraveling," to borrow the title of the two-part first season finale. John's on a downward trajectory, even if he doesn't know it yet, and the rest of the family are fighting their own individual battles, which in the end will converge as one. As they always do. After an action-packed twenty episodes, this season is more of a slow burn, but an equally rewarding experience that results in its most jaw-dropping cliffhanger yet. 

 

We should have seen it coming since every piece of business was leading there, but when the moment does finally arrive, it still somehow lands like a punch to the gut. Everything was leading to this single event, or even more accurately, setting up the big question: "Who Shot John Dutton?" There's no need to mince words or avoid spoilers since the season can't possibly be discussed without acknowledging the giant-sized elephant in the room. All roads lead there since so few of his foes, family or supposed friends have managed to get at him until now. 

 

Cool, calm and collected, John's not someone who can be easily rattled since everyone in his insulated orbit is eventually forced to fall in line and do things his way. Or face the consequences. This season everyone's facing the consequences, with characters that already seemed all figured out pulling the wool over our eyes or pushing past boundaries they weren't aware even existed. If nothing else, it's revealing, placing the Beth and Jamie feud front and center with some big developments that explain a lot, while still leaving us in the final minutes with more questions than answers. But with this series at least we know they will come, and rarely do those revelations ever disappoint. 

After disposing of the Beck brothers and rescuing kidnapped grandson Tate (Brecken Merrill) at the end of last season, John's (Costner) position as Livestock Commissioner is in serious jeopardy, informed by governor and girlfriend Lynelle Perry (Wendy Moniz) that the ambush he led alongside Kayce (Luke Grimes), Rip (Cole Hauser) and the rest of the gang led to an amount of bloodshed that simply can't be brushed under the rug.

 

Agreeing that questions will be asked and investigations conducted, John amicably agrees to resign in an effort for everyone to save face. But as usual, he has his motives, installing Jamie (Bentley) as his replacement after favored son Kayce forcefully rejects the offer, viewing the position as too political for his liking. Priorities soon shift when Beth (Reilly) and Chief Rainwater (Gil Birmingham) agree to team up after uncovering that there are already plans for a new development in the valley spearheaded by the charismatic Roarke Morris (Josh Holloway) of Market Equities. 

 

After a local Native American girl goes missing, Rainwater appeals to Monica's (Kelsey Asbille) commitment to her people, as she dangerously accepts a new mission that concerns Kayce. As the arrival of an old nemesis of John's stirs trouble for Rip and the ranch hands, Roarke starts closing in on the purchase, forcing both Jamie and Kayce to take on new roles to help the family. But with Beth's relationship with Rip moving to the next level, she finally unloads the soul-crushing baggage at the source of her hatred of Jamie. If that doesn't fully rip the Duttons apart, then the secret Jamie discovers about his own past surely will, just as the family are at their most vulnerable. Roarke definitely smells blood, and no one may be able to stop him from going in for the kill. 

There's a lot of maneuvering this season, and at points you could almost literally feel the characters jockeying for position within the family, as writer/creator Taylor Sheridan introduces a new threat, albeit one who initially seems rather innocuous comapred to past baddies. In what must be his most memorable TV role since Lost ended over a decade ago, Josh Holloway brings his sarcastic charm to the role of Roarke, initially presenting himself as someone Beth mistakenly believes can be easily outsmarted, if not for the fact that she's doubting whether the ranch is still even worth fighting for.

 

The Duttons are far from presenting a united front, making it a bit easier for Roarke and his ruthless corporate attorney Willa Hays (Karen Pittman) to chip away at them. In response, John has his players perfectly aligned in the exact positions he needs with Beth on the legal offensive and Jamie installed as Attorney General, which leads to Kayce reluctantly stepping into Jamie's short-lived role as Livestock Commissioner after much coercing. 

 

Ironically enough, Kayce is a natural as Livestock Commissioner, connecting with ranchers in that way Jamie, or even John, couldn't dream of. That he manages to do all this while still upholding the law speaks volumes, especially under these circumstances. While they barely share so much as a scene together, it's still almost impossible not to draw comparisons between Luke Grimes and Josh Holloway, as there are definite similarities in not only their acting style, demeanor, appearance, but the sarcastic, anti-hero characters they've played. Kayce's more of an idealistic straight-shooter than the rougher-edged Sawyer was on Lost, but there's otherwise a lot of overlap there. And now, with Holloway getting the chance to play this full-fledged villain, it'll be intriguing to see Kayce and Roarke eventually cross paths in what's sure to be a memorable acting showdown.  

 

If Kayce truly comes into his own this season and thrives in his new position, Beth seems more vulnerable than ever, still obsessed over her hatred of brother Jamie.  And after much build-up and speculation, we do find out the source of all that resentment in a shocking, powerful flashback that pulls back the curtain on the defining event that triggered the fractured, toxic relationship between the two. 

 

Revealing more about Jamie than we had previously thought possible, episode 3.5, "Cowboys and Dreamers" establishes him at an early age willing to do anything to protect the family name or please his father. Or at least that's what he tells himself when as a teen he not only pressures sister Beth into aborting Rip's baby, but doesn't bother telling her the decision to do so will leave her unable to again conceive. 

 

It's pretty low, even by Jamie standards, completely reframing how to view the enormity of their feud, Beth's bond with Rip and the equally shocking discovery Jamie makes about being adopted. That he accidentally discovers this decades-long secret rather than hearing it from John, sends him into a tailspin, and a mission to track down his birth father, Garrett Randall (played by Costner's The Postman co-star Will Patton). Coming face-to-face with the grizzled ex-addict sent to jail for murdering his biological mother couldn't come at a worse time for Jamie, whose current identity crisis is trumped only by his blinding hatred for step-dad John. 

For Jamie, having another bomb dropped on him that he'll soon be a father as well couldn't come as worse news for someone so incapable of functioning as a responsible human being. Of course, Bentley's excellent as usual at portraying this tortured personality that we still somehow root for him to turn things around, for everyone's sake. But this is the first time where it's gotten so bad for him that the ship may have finally sailed on his potential redemption. Judging from the final few episodes, it seems more likely that his situation will only worsen from here. 

If the season's going to remembered for a single image, it would be a creepy and disturbing scene involving Rip that comes in the finale, the culmination of him proving his loyalty to Beth. I guess. The cemetary-set sequence really has to be seen to be believed, as it's difficult to extrapolate what exactly Sheridan was going for with it. In a lesser series without this one's stellar track record or an actor as talented as Cole Hauser there's no telling how awkward it would have come off. Still, there's no denying that it looks like something you'd sooner see on an episode of The Walking Dead than Yellowstone. 

While that's an extremely odd tonal departure for a show not at all known for it, Jimmy's recuperation from his bronc riding accident and growing relationship with new girlfriend Mia (Eden Brolin) becomes a major focus, as does John's ultimatum that he can't ride rodeo again. It's a decision he wrestles with, right up until the show's final moments, which again place him in a potentially fatal scenario. This guy just has the worst luck, as do Rip and Lloyd (Forrie J. Smith), who are shocked to discover that Walker (Ryan Bingham) is not only still alive after Kayce took him to the "train station," last season but still hanging around performing in bars. This realization, and how he's absorbed back into the ranch with a new mutual understanding of his arrangement is one of the season's biggest highlights. 

After the departure of the only female ranch hand, Avery (Tanaya Beatty) last season, the considerably rougher and tougher Teeter (Jennifer Landon) is brought in to fill that void. While the character gets off to a shaky start as an obvious redneck stereotype, the writers do eventually flesh her out after she and Colby (Denim Richards) are viciously attacked by Roarke's henchmen. But a potentially more interesting and higher stakes character is introduced with the arrival of Rainwater's cold, calculated lawyer Angela Blue Thunder (Q'orianka Kilcher), a mastermind dead set on doing anything to stop Roarke from developing on that land and extracting revenge for her people. 

If this season picks up steam more gradually than its preceding ones, an argument can be made that precipitates from the necessity to do a lot of table setting for the characters as the story gains momentum. By the time we reach the finale, it becomes glaringly clear that Sheridan's blueprint worked. In the ultimate cliffhanger, there's reason to fear at least three of the series' major characters' lives are in serious danger, most especially John, who we last see on the side of road after being shot multiple times. If anyone could survive this, it's undoubtedly him, having already defeated a bleeding ulcer and numerous other threats against his life by a variety of enemies. He's just too stubborn not to, even as he's unaware that the fates Beth and Kayce also hang in the balance, both having also been targeted.

 

There's this already established sense that Yellowstone is unpredictable enough to never discount the idea of a major character or two being sacrificed to serve the story's larger purpose. But when it comes to these three, any of them drawing their last breaths seems unlikely if the series it to continue at the level of quality viewers are accustomed to. Instead, with a rogues gallery of potential suspects lined up, Sheridan will likely spin this yarn around the themes this series' foundation has long been built on: loyalty and revenge. The Duttons will come looking for the latter, and when they do, business promises to pick up.          

Yellowstone (Seasons 1 and 2)

Creators: Taylor Sheridan and John Linson

Starring: Kevin Costner, Luke Grimes, Kelly Reilly, Wes Bentley Cole Hauser, Kelsey Asbille, Brecken Merrill, Jefferson White, Danny Huston, Gil Birmingham, Ian Bohen, Denim Richards, Forrie J. Smith, Wendy Moniz, Ryan Bingham, Michael Nouri, Gretchen Mol, Josh Lucas, Neal McDonough, Terry Serpico

Original Airdate: 2018-2019

 
★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

It's become almost a cliché to call a any overlooked series "the best show you're not watching," but in the case of the Paramount Network's Yellowstone it's an especially odd designation given that it's steadily become cable's most watched drama. It isn't overlooked as much as just critically underappreciated, since you hardly hear anyone talking about it nearly as much as they should. Or maybe, the show's quality just speaks for itself in a streaming era where everything has strong buzz for a week or two before fading from the public consciousness. Having premiered in 2018 and just wrapped its third season, Taylor Sheridan and John Linson's modern-day western focusing on a family-owned cattle ranch in Montana has quietly solidified its staying power by delivering some of TV's best storytelling.

A throwback in every sense, the series gives the legendary, long underrated Kevin Costner the role of his career, if not necessarily an unexpected one, given the actor's rich, on screen experience in this genre. While joining a long line of recent television anti-heroes, it still seems like the part he's been preparing for decades to play if only he was a given the chance. Now, with a character he can really sink his teeth into, that opportunity's finally here.

 

The Dances with Wolves, Waterworld and The Postman star casts a John Wayne-like presence over the proceedings as the show's grounding force, accompanied by a supporting cast that's just as strong, unspooling this family's story at a rapid but controlled pace that has you on pins and needles awaiting how the next threat or betrayal that takes everything in an entirely new direction. That old adage that you don't choose your relatives has never been more apt, with each having wildly competing, often selfish motivations that are not only tearing this unit apart from the inside, but frequently placing them in the line of fire, both literally and figuratively.

Set against a Montana landscape majestically shot by Beasts of the Southern Wild cinematographer Ben Richardson, the push and pull between those who want to protect the integrity and heritage of the land and developers looking to cash in with massive commercialization projects is a constant theme. But on either side, motivations are rarely what they appear, even as the show navigates the plight of Native Americans who still must deal with the ugliness of discrimination. In the narrative tapestry Sheridan weaves, life is a vicious cycle wherein the more things change, the more they'll stay the same. Until they don't.

Family patriarch and Bazemore's influencial, respected Livestock Commissioner, John Dutton (Costner) controls and operates Dutton Yellowstone Ranch, the largest of its type in the country, ruling over his family and employees with an iron fist. His oldest son Lee (David Annable) is a Montana Livestock agent while also working as the ranch's head of security. Youngest son Kayce (Luke Grimes) is a former Navy SEAL estranged from his father after leaving to live on a Native American reservation with wife, Monica (Kelsey Asbille) and their young son Tate (Brecken Merrill).

John's daughter Beth (Kelly Reilly) is a feisty, foul-mouthed alcoholic financier emotionally scarred from guilt over their mother's accidental death over twenty years earlier, as well as other traumatizing childhood events. She's extremely loyal to her father while and has been in and out of a relationship with the ranch's foreman and John's right-hand man, the intense Rip Wheeler (Cole Hauser).

Jamie (Wes Bentley) is the family's attorney and aspiring politician, but also the black sheep, torn between his unhealthy obsession with winning his father's respect and his increasing discomfort with the way the Duttons illegally conduct business. He's also the subject of sister Beth's hatred and scorn, as the two siblings are embroiled in a blood feud that frequently erupts in verbal and physical confrontations, during which she frequently gets the better of him.

The threats to the ranch come from all sides, as Chief Thomas Rainwater (an appropriately stoic Gil Birmingham) is determined to take back what he believes is stolen land for the Native Americans who originally inhabited it, planning to expand the reservation to include a casino. Meanwhile, billionaire land developer Dan Jenkins (Danny Huston), wants to drive the Duttons out, and isn't above resorting to threats and illegal activities to achieve his goal. From the series' opening scene we see the levels he's willing to sink to destroy John, proving he hasn't done his homework on the man who wields enough power in Montana to have both the state's entire police department and its governor, Lynelle Perry (Wendy Moniz) in his pocket. That is if he can trust them, or even his own family.

The Duttons are immediately rocked by tragedy, as the war over land and cattle leads to the death of oldest son, Lee, with Kayce caught right in the middle. Torn between his loyalty to Native American wife Monica and their son, he realizes the battle lines have been drawn and he may have to leave the reservation to return "home" to his estranged father, whether he wants to or not. Or at least before people start making assumptions about his allegiances. 

 

This inner struggle drives Kayce's arc throughout these twenty episodes, resenting his dad for disowning him when he had a child with Monica, while also realizing his ties to the family ranch give his young son Tate the best shot at a secure future. But it isn't necessarily a safe one, which causes a massive rift in his relationship with Monica, who already feels like an outsider due to her heritage. 

Like Kayce, Monica's prideful and stubborn, justifiably unwilling to take handouts or help from anyone, especially father-in-law John, whose initial objection to their union was well-documented. The feeling that as viewers we've been tossed into a story that's already logged in years (if not decades) is perhaps the series' greatest attribute, allowing us to gradually form judgments about these characters based as much on their current actions as their tangled histories. The relationship between Kayce and Monica burns slowly in that regard, with Grimes and Asbille bringing an understated power to their roles, as their story shifts and surprises with each new, seemingly insurmountable challenge.

 

At least on the surface, Costner projects John Dutton as a laid-back, easygoing guy who puts family first, which of course sharply contrasts with the meglomaniacal tyrant everyone views him as. Or does it? With this complicated individual, many things can all be true at once, with the actor proving himself brilliantly adaptable at summoning up all these various facets of his personality, the layers of which are continuously being peeled away. Full of complexities and contradictions, he'd just as easily blackmail or murder anyone that crosses him or his family as he would spend the day fishing with his grandson. 

 

Having his world turn upside down following the the death of wife, Evelyn, John's had rough, unexpected on-the-job training as a single dad, the results of which his adult children are still experiencing the fallout from. A reconciliation with Kayce and a chance to bond with young Tate feels like his way of making amends and reclaiming, and therefore extending, his family legacy.

 

As resistant as the angry but quietly noble Kayce is to returning to the fold, he's still easily the stablest of the siblings, if not necessarily the most loved. That designation easily goes to "daddy's little girl" Beth, who's had to live for years feeling responsible for her mom's death and the family setbacks that followed, uses older brother Jamie as her punching bag, letting all her rage out on him for reasons that won't be fully revealed until later. 

 

Kelly Reilly plays Beth as a fearless, take no prisoners pariah, who's more than happy to let Jamie know how worthless he is, or threaten anyone who even thinks they're taking this land. In playing the series' most exciting wildcard, Reilly rarely engages in the types of choices that would brand the character as a strictly one-dimensional psychopath. Like Bentley, she has moments where it's not clear whether we're looking at a grown adult or scared little girl still reeling from the fallout of her mother's death. And because of the circumstances surrounding that, she's had as tough a time coping as anyone, including her father. And besides constantly drinking herself into a stupor, she's taking it out on anyone and everyone who dare come near her daddy's ranch.  

 

Wes Bentley's performance as Jamie really is something else, as the actor primarily known for his acclaimed supporting work as the disaffected teen neighbor in American Beauty over twenty years ago completely reinvents himself here as weak, petulant man-child Jamie Dutton. Since receding from the spotlight, he's taken many parts since, but this feels like a full-fledged comeback for an actor whose low-key intensity is exploited to maximum effect. The harder this outcast tries live up to his dad's expectations, the more spectacularly he seems to fail, as evident during his clumsy pursuit of the state's Attorney General position, further establishing him as the family's expendable pawn. 

 

If only Jamie's heart or conscience was able to go along with it, as he's constantly attempting to take the moral high ground in the face of their illegal activities, all while denying himself the strength to avoid getting sucked back in. Bentley's so skilled at conveying fear and insecurity you can almost literally feel the character's nerves every time he's sharing air space with his dad or sister, both of whom reap a certain satisfaction from bullying a willing doormat. Even they start to realize he's so self concious that his intended help often puts everyone in danger's path. The sight of this grown man running and hiding from his father and kicked in the crotch by his adult sister should be a bad joke, if only it was, and Bentley didn't bring a sort of tragic pathos to the role that almost makes you sympathize with him. His future was carved out a while ago, molding him into the dysfunctionally stunted dope he's become. 

 

Unable to take a stand or make any kind of firm decision, Jamie's even taken advantage of by his girlfriend and campaign manager Christina (Katherine Cunningham), who's more intrigued by what he could potentially do for her than the man himself. But "potential" is Jamie's most dreaded word, as we discover in the second season the pathetic lengths he's willing to go to please his disapproving dad, mainly due to fear of how badly he'd falter on his own.

 

If Kayce and Rip comprise the muscles of the ranch operation then Beth is often that, plus the brains, consistently proving herself as not only the most dangerous and reckless of the Dutton clan, but the most cunning. Her relationship with Cole Hauser's Rip is among the show's more fascinating aspects, as are the wisely parsed out flashbacks depicting his arrival on the ranch as a troubled teen taken in by John and falling for the rebellious Beth. At first, it's tough to get a read on him, but with each passing episode his tough, humorless exterior gives way to the humanity underneath, with Cole Hauser expertly navigating all of it.

 

Sheridan's impactfully placed use of flashbacks accomplish exactly what's needed to enhance the present-day story. In his hands, it's not a device, but rather an essential, completely organic extension of the show's character building that never overstays its welcome. It also features some good, believable performances from Josh Lucas and Gretchen Mol as young John and Evelyn Dutton and Kylie Rogers and Kyle Red Silverstein as the teen Beth and Rip. Toward the end of season two, there's a flashback with Costner as John opposite the great Dabney Coleman as his dying father, John Sr., that's probably the most beautifully shot and performed piece of storytelling the show's done, emotionally but subtly cutting to the core of the legacies and bonds forged between fathers and sons through the generations.   

Violence is a big part of this world, often graphically depicted, but to the series' benefit because so much of it feels true to the environment these characters have inhabited their entire lives. Slick California billionaire Dan Jenkins thinks the Dutton Ranch is his for the taking, gravely underestimating the lengths this family will go to keep it, especially Beth, who plays him like a fiddle. Dan's business partnership with Chief Rainwater (whose motives at least don't seem as outwardly slimy) are similarly driven by profit and expansion, even as he realizes the trust of his people are at stake with a move that's drawing as much skepticism as praise from his contingency, still unjustly viewed as expendable. 

 

But the the most dangerous threat to all comes from Malcolm Beck (Neil McDonough), a ruthless businessman who, along with his brother Teal (Terry Serpico) intimidates and threatens to get in on the action, in the process crossing a line you don't dare go near with the Duttons. The result is an altercation with Beth and his men that should have netted Kelly Reilly an Emmy, as she delivers a painfully realistic, gut-wrenching performance as Beth fights for her life, emerging on the other side permanently scarred and changed from the experience.     

Far from exclusively peddling in gloom and doom, much humor comes from the supporting players, or more accurately, John Dutton's ragtag crew of rotating ranch hands taking up residence at Yellowstone. Jimmy Hurdstrom (Jefferson White) is among the most memorable, given an arc that isn't entirely dissimilar to Breaking Bad's Jesse Pinkman in that he starts as a low level, Eminem-looking thug whose criminal screw-ups land him on the ranch. 

The butt of nearly all the show's jokes, Jimmy's evolution toward becoming both competent at his job (and even at one point a successful rodeo star) mark one of the show's more fascinating character trajectories, growing into someone viewers can truly like and root for. Even as we worry what ridiculous predicament he'll find himself in next. But Sheridan balances that aspect nicely with the deadly serious code that comes with a job that most literally has you branded for life. Once you're in, there's no way out, unless you plan on taking a trip to the proverbial "train station," courtesy of Rip and senior rancher Lloyd (Forrie J. Smith). 

Someone who soon uncovers the trappings of working at Dutton Yellowstone and wants to fight that system is Walker (singer-songwriter Ryan Bingham) a guitar-toting ex-con frequently clashing with Rip, who recruited him upon his release from prision. It's a decision he quickly regrets, as their explosive, slowly simmering feud makes for one the show's more compelling sub-plots, revealing so much about what both men stand for. 

 

In addition to Bingham's contributions to the show's soundtrack (further complimented by Brian Tyler's memorable score and music from Costner's own band, Modern West), he's a calm, steady screen presence who exudes laid-back cool, delivering one of the series' most slyly effective supporting turns and emerging as the perfect opponent for a tightly wound, trigger-tempered Rip. 

Timely as ever, the series may as well be a microcosm of America and the problems currently facing what's become an increasingly divided and fractured country, with the Duttons representing us at both our best and worst. Unfalteringly loyal but reprehensibly corrupt, the family lives in a world where favors and people can always be bought, while still frequently finding themselves on the receiving end of those operating at a moral level far lower than theirs. At his worst, John Dutton is beholden to his own strict honor code, even if it's one that sometimes makes sense only to him, and makes few concessions for anyone in its way. 

 

Like a much harder-hitting Dallas mixed with the finest of Costner's own westerns like Wyatt Earp and Open Range, the series isn't only a narrative accomplishment, but a marvel to look at, starting with an iconic opening credit sequence and theme that already feels like a modern classic, calling back to a TV era when shows were took the task of crafting their lengthy intros as seriously as the material itself. Yellowstone is about survival, and the extraordinarily destructive and sometimes surprisingly caring lengths all these characters will go to do that. Sins and mistakes pass down from one generation to the next, but at the end of day all that's left of any family is its legacy. And the Duttons will stop at nothing to fiercely protect theirs.