1923 Series-Finale Recap: Meet Me in Bozeman

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In simpler terms, the last season of “1923” was filled with an overwhelming sense of mortality. Characters who initially seemed invincible were ultimately claimed by death or left bereaved. By the end of the finale, “A Dream and a Memory,” all major characters are either deceased or widowed, lacking parents or both. Ignoring the series’ concluding scene, which appears to reference heaven and is reminiscent of the movie “Titanic”, the final shot we see of Yellowstone is that of an 80-year-old man, his body marked by skin and scars, sitting on a frigid porch with his witty but acerbic wife. They are holding their prematurely born grandnephew, a tiny baby who was born three months too soon.

In this scene, we’re not looking at a ranch miraculously rescued from the edge of oblivion. There’s no trace of life in this valley. As Lizzie put it in one of her earlier episodes when she vowed to depart Montana forever – “It’s just existing.” This statement was made before Lizzie’s husband was killed by a double agent, and before the mother of baby John passed away due to necrosis. The current generation, either deceased or mourning, is conspicuously absent from the bleak final image portrayed in 1923. This isn’t just existing. It’s slowly decaying.

In the final episode of the series, no one is guaranteed a favorable conclusion, yet Teonna Rainwater manages to begin anew. Marshal Mamie Fossett’s group discovers Kent and Pete’s bodies, both riddled with bullets, indicating that Kent killed Pete before Father Renaud was slain by Kent. Following the trail of smoke from Teonna’s fire, they find the deceased bodies of Renaud and Runs His Horse. Two Spears deduces the circumstances—Renaud likely murdered Teonna’s father, prompting her to defend herself against the priest. Mamie decides to let Teonna go free, but as she does so, Teonna, fearful and on edge, opens fire on the group from a concealed location beyond the ridge.

1923’s final two-hour sequence showcases stunning cinematography during the horse chase – a rare instance when it seems as if we’re watching a true blockbuster instead of just two episodes masquerading as one on Paramount+. The thrilling chase culminates with Teonna killing Marshal Clint and being taken captive in rope handcuffs, bound for Amarillo. Despite Mamie’s assurance that justice will be served by the courts, Teonna has learned not to trust America’s institutions. Her family was forcibly relocated to an American reservation. The very country she resides in authorized the school where she suffered abuse and torment. And America provided the power that drove the monster chasing her from North Dakota all the way to this border, just a few hours from Mexico, where she could have potentially escaped American institutions forever.

Teonna struggles to comprehend the irony – America’s harshness is frequently mirrored by its ineptitude. Despite her undeniable guilt, having admittedly killed those she was accused of killing, plus some additional individuals, she walks free because her accusers, some whom she had eliminated herself, are deceased. The prosecutor, lacking the motivation to gather fresh evidence, submits a motion to drop the case he’s currently handling, an action that seems unusual, yet it is sadly common in New York City. Released by a judge eager to clear his schedule, Teonna ponders her next steps. She is a 16-year-old Native American girl navigating a world that harbors deep-seated prejudice against both Indians and women. Two Spears offers her a horse, a rifle, and guidance: “Perhaps it’s time to seek a new place.” He proposes California, a land with more abundant fruit trees and fewer Caucasian inhabitants.

From two perspectives: Firstly, Two Spears’ remark could simply be casual and unimportant. Conversely, the anticipation of reading Taylor Sheridan’s extensive series is exhilarating, as it presents an opportunity for detective work. It may even serve as a hint from the showrunner about the possible biography of Thomas Rainwater, who, unbeknownst to him, could be connected to Teonna. The last we see of Teonna, she is riding west on her own, but at least she’s moving forward.

Yes, they do. It’s the men they make different.” Although it’s an impressive line, it’s not worth risking one’s life for. So, let’s spare Zane any more hardships and head indoors instead.

While Jacob and the sheriff wait for Spencer’s train at Livingston Station, Whitfield’s men start arriving at the station. From the get-go, double-agent Clive raises Jacob’s suspicions, yet Sheriff McDowell trusts him, even though he can’t tell an Irish accent from a Scottish one. This wouldn’t be a big issue if not for the ongoing land conflict happening right along these borders. Honestly, someone should take this man’s badge immediately! NB: As I will refer to them now, I will call Banner’s former followers, who were previously known as “Banner’s men”, as “Whitfield’s men” due to Banner’s unexpected last-minute defection. It’s unfortunate that Banner, just like everyone else, only developed a conscience in the series finale, although perhaps he thought he was living through an eight-episode storyline.

Following the harrowing sight of a kidnapped sex worker confined in Whitfield’s stocks during last week’s episode, Banner grapples with the torment of his conscience as he acknowledges that he has been acting immorally. While Dutton perseveres and Whitfield seems to enjoy causing pain, Banner feels powerless to stop Whitfield and regrets the unscrupulous choices he’s made since being under Mr. Monopoly’s control. He contemplates a change in profession, perhaps becoming a fisherman in Portland. However, it is too late for him to escape westward as his wife has already packed their belongings.

At Livingston Station, Banner encounters Jacob, who Banner is aware is there. Jake consents to let Ellie and their child aboard the train when it passes, but not Banner. Just before the war starts, Banner tries one last time to discourage Jacob. “Even if you defeat Whitfield,” Banner predicts, “there will be other Whitfields coming.” Essentially, he says, “You’ll keep your land for a short while.” Let us all hope we die as wisely as a Sheridan character.

The much-anticipated Battle of Livingston Station has been postponed again due to a car fire close to the tracks. For a day, Alexandra had been sharing a taxi with Hillary’s corpse. Eventually, she resorted to grave digging. From Hillary, she retrieves a slim pair of velvet gloves, hoping they might offer some protection against the harsh Montana chill. She exits to Paul’s body and pilfers his lighter. Within the car’s floorboards, she ignites a small fire, using torn-up notebook paper to stay warm. Once the paper runs out, she feeds it Spencer’s letters instead. She recalls Hans Christian Andersen’s tale of The Little Match Girl, except in this case, her freezing predicament is self-inflicted due to a foolish romantic impulse rather than poverty.

In Mussolini’s Italy, Alex shrewdly adds Paul’s leftover whiskey to the fire to attract the conductor’s attention, hoping the train would stop for him. However, it didn’t. Meanwhile, Spencer on the same train spots his wife through the window and impulsively jumps off the moving train to embrace her. It was overly dramatic, implausible, yet I found myself feeling tender-hearted towards it because even though you can remove any real romance from 1923, you can’t turn me into a logical spectator. Alexandra refers to their current predicament as a “pickle,” the same term Spencer used to describe the night they spent in a tree avoiding a pride of lions. In the lack of substantial past, a linguistic reference is all we have.

Upon boarding the train (wink-wink, it does actually stop), a physician checks Alex’s temperature, which is below 95 degrees. This would alarm her if she understood Fahrenheit. They swiftly warm her with damp towels, but her extremities – fingers and toes – are black from the cold. As for the baby, the doctor notes that women’s bodies are extraordinary. “If there’s a way to safeguard the child, your body will adapt.” The underlying message is so overt it borders on explicit, yet my foolish, infatuated heart still hoped for a favorable conclusion. This pair endured an elephant attack, a capsizing, and a battle with a vengeful ex, but nothing can withstand the relentless forces of Yellowstone.

As a passionate cinema enthusiast, there are instances where I could question the rash decisions of the characters, but instead, I choose to immerse myself in the story and overlook the parts that seem inconsistent or bothersome. For example: If Hulk-Banner knows that Livingston Station is going to be the battleground for a fierce shootout between his adversaries and the traitors he’s working with, why not drive 25 miles to catch a train from tranquil Bozeman? However, I find myself pondering: If the conductor could contact the dispatcher to send an ambulance to Bozeman for Alexandra, then why couldn’t McDowell reach out to the conductor to warn Spencer not to disembark at Livingston Station, thus avoiding a gunfight in a bustling public area? Could I be missing something? (I honestly don’t believe I am — I’m merely being polite because Sheridan is graciously hosting this entertaining event.)

The predictable gunfight unfolds much like one sees in TV dramas: Even though the bad guys are outnumbered, they end up dying more than the good guys. McDowell shoots Banner, who sacrifices himself to save Jacob from the dangerous man Clive, whom McDowell had hired. It was a noble death, a heroic one if you don’t consider that Banner is actually responsible for Clive attempting to harm Jacob initially. I expected this chaos to clarify Spencer trading his lion’s tooth for a pocket knife with a child on the train, but Spencer doesn’t engage in hand-to-hand combat. Instead, he systematically eliminates all his adversaries. Spencer prefers total destruction over close encounters.

As the train sets off from Livingston towards Bozeman, Banner’s family is on board, with Spencer accompanying them, remarkably enough. Jacob is also there, shedding tears due to ancient bullet wounds. (Ew.) Instead of joining Alex at the hospital, her husband goes to save the ranch, leaving Alex in early labor at just six months pregnant. “I’ll see you in Bozeman,” Spencer says to her. Traditionally, this pair always fulfills their daring vows, but Elsa Dutton steps in to dash any optimism. The short encounter was “satisfying” for Alex, according to Elsa, yet I couldn’t let go because, seriously, Elsa? You’re a supernatural oddity who keeps following your own family. Knock it off!

When the train leaves Livingston for Bozman, Banner’s family, including Spencer and a wounded Jacob, is on board. Alex, only six months pregnant and in labor, chooses to let her husband go save their ranch instead of going to the hospital. “I’ll see you in Bozman,” Spencer tells her. Normally, this couple keeps their big promises, but Elsa Dutton ruins any hope by showing up. The brief meeting was enough for Alex, according to Elsa, but I still felt uneasy because, come on, Elsa? You’re a mysterious, supernatural character who keeps stalking your own family. Stop it!

In the course of a long afternoon, Livingston was filling up with Whitfield’s soldiers, accompanied by more hired guns who kept pouring in at the Yellowstone. There, Zane and Aunt Cara, armed with an elk rifle, successfully held off an overwhelming number of attackers. Even Lizzie, typically hiding under a table with her gun for two hours, managed to take down a few enemies. However, much like what one might see on TV, the firefight was messy, with many bullets flying but only a handful of hits. That is, until Spencer arrived after dark, changing the dynamics. This fellow didn’t miss his shots. It seems the first bullet he fired from his elephant rifle took out two men at once, and it barely took him two minutes to decimate Whitfield’s troops.

At the hospital, a situation that I found increasingly frustrating turns out to be bafflingly illogical on television. The doctors propose ending Alex’s pregnancy – which is now an active labor case, making their suggestion questionable from a scientific perspective – so they can amputate her infected limbs and save her life. However, Alex insists on delivering a premature baby that the doctors claim won’t survive the day, rather than choosing to live without the limb amputation. In the universe of Yellowstone, gut feelings have often proved more accurate than medical counsel, so we were left watching as Alex gave birth to this tiny, vulnerable infant (I chose not to watch, covering my eyes instead).

After ensuring the baby was safely born, Alex decided against surgery so she could spend an hour with him instead. This was heartbreaking and I couldn’t help but shed a tear or two, despite my disdain for the romanticized ideal of self-sacrifice in motherhood. Why not attempt to save both lives? Let someone else hold the baby while the doctor addresses Alex’s infected body before it deteriorates further. If she truly believes her miracle child can endure, then this hour isn’t significant enough to sacrifice for. “A mother who chooses herself over her child is no mother,” Alex asserted. But in reality, a deceased person is no mother at all since they are already gone. Furthermore, she is not dying to save her baby; instead, she is demonstrating her willingness to die if the circumstances necessitated it – which they do not!

Eventually, I let go of a tiny fragment of my anger, as Alex was right about something: Managing a ranch without limbs is no easy task, and if that’s not the life she desires, perhaps it shouldn’t be her burden. Yet, could we possibly postpone dealing with the issue of her disability tomorrow? After all, it’s a problem worth having, just to be alive in the first place. By the time Spencer arrived at the hospital, the decision was final. His son, named John, lay nestled in Alex’s arms, both of them swaddled. The moral of this story is evident: Always opt for a life of love and adventure, even when the path may seem daunting. That night, the three of them shared their only family moment in the cramped hospital bed. In the morning, Spencer swiftly summoned Aunt Cara. Instead of comforting her grieving nephew by assuring him he could handle his own son, she eagerly took the baby from him, implying that childcare is women’s responsibility.

Spencer completes a man’s task at the Whitfield mansion. He rescues Mabel, a sex worker, and in the process eliminates Lindy and Whitfield, bringing an end to the latest conflict over Yellowstone. The price he pays for this victory is his family. Spencer’s wife has left him, his nephew is nowhere to be found, and Lizzie, his niece-in-law, chooses to return to her family in Boston. Even though she carries a Dutton baby, Lizzie decides to depart without any further interaction with Aunt Cara who encourages her to move on from her deceased husband. Old ladies like Aunt Cara are the ones who will keep Jack’s memory alive. Lizzie, overcome with grief, remains quiet as Aunt Cara speaks, but one can imagine that she might finally express her anger and tell Aunt Cara to find solace elsewhere.

bright yet sorrowful.

Despite ending in a controversial manner, the series remained captivating throughout its duration, revealing insights about the Yellowstone during John Dutton III’s era. For instance, before Spencer shoots Whitfield in his dressing gown, Jacob laments that the realm of private investment will think twice before approaching the ranch for quite some time. He even tells Whitfield, “I want them teaching about how you died in school books,” an intriguing statement given that Spencer had just advised a young boy not to believe everything teachers say. Nonetheless, maybe Whitfield’s brutal demise left a lasting impact on Bozeman for many years to come. This could be the reason why it takes another century before land developer Dan Jenkins feels bold enough to challenge the Duttons once more.

In addition, fans of the show “1923” have been trying to figure out how the events in “1883” connect with “Yellowstone.” The paternity of John Dutton III remains unclear (as far as I can tell), which has sparked much speculation. Some assume that Spencer and Alexandra’s child could be John III’s father, given his strong rancher heritage, shared name, and the timeline. However, this theory raises questions about how we would go from John I to John III in just one generation. It’s a conundrum indeed. Furthermore, John III mentioned to Jimmy that his grandfather had lost a leg. If Spencer is his grandad, then it’s possible that this leg belonged to John’s maternal grandfather due to the following reasons: 1) I find it hard to imagine Spencer without a leg and 2) it seems an especially harsh fate for a man who refused a life-saving amputation. One can’t help but wonder how many more times the hand of fate will claim the limbs of this family.

In a different phrasing: Instead of John III being just Jack’s son, it could be that Jack is actually John III’s grandson, which would account for the Roman numerals jump. If Lizzie had John Dutton’s son in Boston and returned because she couldn’t raise him so far from his cowboy heritage (a twist on Cara’s character), or if circumstances forced Lizzie to send her own ‘John Dutton’ back to be raised by Uncle Spencer, he might find himself falling for the same desolate land that once claimed his grandfather’s love. This family lineage also makes it clearer why John Dutton III is known as a “fifth-generation rancher.” If he were Spencer’s grandson, he would only be a fourth-generation rancher. Yet another possibility is that the fifth generation comes from John III’s mother’s side, about which we know very little! This could be the premise for the upcoming spin-off titled 1944. Two young lovers, each born into rival ranching families in peaceful Paradise, form our story setting. At this rate, Paramount is producing so many spin-offs that Taylor Sheridan may soon regret marking out as much territory as he has. Each generation he manages to insert between John Dutton III and the Tim McGraw character from 1883 translates into more money in his pocket.

I’ve been pondering whether I’ll catch the next episode of Yellowstone. Initially, John Dutton appears as a hero, though he’s far from perfect. However, the capitalists who covet his land and their plans for development are significantly more detestable. It feels odd to side with John, given that he symbolizes an American lifestyle. Yet, the deeper I delve into the family’s violent past through spin-offs, the stronger my wish becomes for someone to level the ranch completely. These characters seem trapped in a way of life that stubbornly clings to existence, yet suffocates the Duttons who cherish it. Saving the Yellowstone Dutton Ranch seems increasingly like a tragedy as this saga unfolds across the 20th century.

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2025-04-06 18:56