Is Landman Funny?

As a longtime admirer of Taylor Sheridan’s work, I must say that delving into his comedic writing style has been quite the rollercoaster ride. While he undeniably possesses a knack for creating complex and compelling characters, his attempts at humor often feel more like a detour than a well-planned pit stop on the journey through his narratives.

Taylor Sheridan’s continuous expansion in TV has sparked numerous queries. For instance, which classic western tropes will he address next? Why does this season of Yellowstone seem so fixated on John Dutton’s demise? Is there a particular reason he felt compelled to appear in Lioness and portray a shirtless character? These are just a few of the many questions that arise. Now, an essential question for Vulture critics Roxana Hadadi and Nicholas Quah: Does his latest series, Landman, which bears resemblance to Friday Night Lights and features a consistently grumpy Billy Bob Thornton, contain humor? Is it intended to be humorous? In fact, what constitutes a joke according to Taylor Sheridan?

Nicholas Quah describes Landman as the most laid-back series in the Sheridan-verse, which usually brims with violence, sorrow, and gruff masculinity. However, there’s still a fair share of all that in this show, but it also seems to be an attempt at a less serious, more comedic drama or perhaps something more suitable for families. By halfway through the season, he confesses that he is still uncertain about Sheridan’s intentions with Landman. Roxana, can you share your interpretation of what Sheridan aims to achieve with this series?

Roxana Hadadi: It’s weird! It’s weird because half of this show is Sheridan doing his typical “let me defend the forgotten American” thing, so oil-company fixer Tommy, played by Thornton, is constantly breaking into speeches about how important oil is to our economy and how silly it is to think we can replace it. And if you don’t believe it from BB, maybe you will from Jon Hamm, who shows up every so often as M-Tex head honcho Monty to look hot and give “Don Draper but evil” speeches.

In simpler terms, some parts of the show “Landman” appear to be intentionally humorous, catering to an audience who share its pro-masculinity, oil-positive perspective. These aren’t traditional jokes but situations that provoke a mocking or scornful response. For example, in the premiere, Tommy, portrayed as a resourceful and practical character compared to his hostage takers, mocks a female radio reporter during her segment about oil prices. This scene invites viewers to share Tommy’s eye-rolling disdain towards the idea that a journalist, specifically a woman, could understand the topic, and I find a subtle, sarcastic humor in how openly sexist this portrayal is.

Essentially, Sheridan adopts a similar strategy for the second half of the series, focusing on Tommy’s home life which includes a daughter, Ainsley (Michelle Randolph who appears to be 27), who wishes to move in with him at a house he shares with two other M-Tex employees. Additionally, Tommy has an ex-wife, Angela (Ali Larter portraying a cool mom character), who is fixated on him and desires reconciliation. Ainsley discloses her relationship rules to Tommy stating, “As long as he never enters me, he can be anywhere on me.” Meanwhile, Angela strips down in the middle of a restaurant at a country club to remind Tommy of his physical attractions. Both women’s behaviors seem unrealistic, and the family drama revolving around them can be summarized as “Women can be irrational”… and sometimes, even though it’s absurd, it manages to elicit laughter from me, not just because of how nonsensical it is, but also due to Thornton’s sarcastic and worn-out tone. Is your laughter intentional or involuntary, Nick?

I find the show amusing rather than laughing out loud at it. While it’s written with comedic intent, the humor often feels theoretical to me. For instance, when Tommy dines with his daughter, ex-wife, and a potential love interest, it sets up an awkward situation that you might expect to be funny, but the jokes don’t quite land as they should. Similar instances include Tommy’s quips, such as the one in the third episode where he complains about smoking rules on Monty’s patio. This is reminiscent of a pattern in the creator’s work where characters complain about seemingly ridiculous rules that the creator finds personally absurd. (For example, in the first episode of Yellowstone, Beth Dutton also grumbles about a nonsmoking policy in a hotel bar with burning fireplaces.) However, these comedic situations don’t typically lead to punchlines that make you laugh out loud, and they often fail to fully resolve in a way that makes you chuckle.

Instead of focusing on debating specific humorous concepts in court, I’d rather delve into understanding what makes Sheridan laugh as a whole. Let me analyze the humor in the characters, starting with Nathan, who shares both a professional and living space with Tommy. Given his role as Tommy’s sad, unfortunate lawyer colleague, Nathan appears to be the most likely source of comedic relief.

Colm Feore, who I fondly remember from the Chronicles of Riddick! Indeed, he was the series’ most notable portrayal of a character with an attempt at humor that often revolved around: Notice how challenging it is to be a gentleman in today’s world amidst women and their activities.

The intriguing aspect of Ainsley and Nathan’s relationship revolves around the fact that Ainsley, who’s supposedly a high school senior, seems to be living with three older men in a shared household. This arrangement leaves Nathan in shock while the show appears to find it enticing. (The camera often focuses on Ainsley’s figure.) The same dynamic resurfaces when Angela moves in, and both women engage in provocative workouts amidst Nathan’s attempts to focus on his tasks.

In both personal and professional settings, the show frequently uses subtle misogyny to create uncomfortable situations intended for audience amusement, often mocking female characters for their supposed immaturity or arrogance without foundation. The only instance that comes to mind where this pattern is broken occurs when Tommy’s lawyer Rebecca confronts her adversary for treating her like a child; however, we later discover that she fabricated parts of her father’s military background to gain an advantage in the argument, thus reinforcing the message that women should not be trusted.

Sheridan’s humor may initially seem straightforward, but there’s no denying that a significant portion of its simplicity is linked to misogynistic themes. This isn’t a casual observation; it’s misogyny, plain and simple. The character of Ainsley, portrayed as an overly sexualized teenage daughter by an older actress, is often scantily clad around older men, which is uncomfortable at best. Meanwhile, Demi Moore, who’s had a remarkable year with ‘The Substance’, seems to be merely playing Monty’s wife, engaging in activities like swimming, attending fancy dinners, and telling her husband he’s had too much coffee, contributing little else to the narrative.

Amplifying the confusion, Landman, much like other works in the Sheridan-verse, lacks consistency in tone and focus. This makes it challenging to discern Sheridan’s intentions with each decision he makes. For instance, what does he truly feel about the mythology of boomtowns? Is it seen as hogwash, noble, or idealized? It seems blurred, which is typical of Sheridan; his writing lacks thematic clarity since his work after “Hell or High Water” hasn’t been as focused.

One thing’s for sure, though: Sheridan loves to complain about stuff. Aggrievement is his essential fuel, the oil that produces all his products. Take the whole scene with Monty on the golf course, where he’s setting up a swing and delivers a big monologue about not letting other golfers play through because they’ll gum things up. I’m sure it’s supposed to show Monty’s big-boy nature, but it also just seems like Sheridan the writer getting something off his chest about the last time someone played through his own time on a green. That, I find kinda funny.

Tommy leaves Rebecca alone in a field filled with weeds, where she encounters a rattlesnake. This supposedly capable lawyer becomes terrified and pleads for Tommy’s help, only to react shocked and whiny when he kills the snake to protect her.

It seems like the show’s dialog might be intended as a subtle criticism towards liberal sympathizers, or so it appears. If not for Thornton’s witty delivery and overall charm on the series, I might have found myself annoyed. And honestly, I was somewhat aggravated when Tommy inquired about Angela’s menstruation in this week’s episode. Unless the show is using that question to highlight a vampire’s ignorance about his wife’s supernatural physiology, as seen in “What We Do in the Shadows,” such a joke feels outdated. However, I must acknowledge that Thornton infuses this questionable material with an appealingly sarcastic tone, something that other shows like “Lioness” seem to lack. So, is Billy Bob’s dry humor about his hemorrhoids during family gatherings enough to keep you hooked, Nick?

In my opinion, I find myself appreciating the performance of Thornton in this series. His competence and consistent tone add depth to the show, which is reminiscent of a common theme in the Sheridan-verse: The performances that stand out are often those where talented actors elevate their roles beyond the script. The character of Landman seems particularly enhanced by Thornton’s engaging acting style, allowing him to move energetically, appear sweaty, rant about current issues in America, and convey a sense of overwhelming exhaustion.

To bring this discussion back to its starting point: I’d like to propose that Beth Dutton, as written by Sheridan, is the funniest creation he has ever made. From her dialogue, appearance, and actions, everything about her strikes me as humorous. However, I don’t think that was intentionally planned – she wasn’t intended to be the Queen of Camp in Yellowstone. Instead, it seems like the actor’s performance in Landman is another example where a talented performer elevates a script beyond its original intent. So perhaps this sums up Sheridan’s relationship with comedy: when he attempts to be funny, it often falls flat, but when his scripts provide ample space for actors to discover their own comedic nuances, we can occasionally stumble upon the extraordinary.

2024-12-11 19:56

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