Tulsa King Recap: You Dropped a Bomb on Me

As a seasoned TV critic with a penchant for witty banter and a soft spot for character-driven dramas, I must say that this episode of Tulsa King has left me thoroughly impressed. It’s not often you come across a series that manages to balance humor, tension, and intrigue so effortlessly, especially in its early seasons.


Indeed, “Tulsa King” is so captivating that it demands our full attention. Written by David Flebotte, it boasts intriguingly complex storylines and witty dialogue. The episode titled “Life Support”, though slightly misleading in its name, is a breath of fresh creative air – a sign that this series is finally showing signs of true vitality once more.

The storyline revolves around the consequences of the explosion targeting Dwight and Tyson’s vehicle, an incident that primarily harmed Tyson’s father, Mark, instead of them. Thankfully, the explosion wasn’t designed to detonate upon ignition, which would have resulted in Mark being trapped inside the car and destroyed; it was a remote-controlled device that malfunctioned prematurely, making Mark an unintended victim.

The blast ripples disruption across four distinct criminal groups in Tulsa. Dwight begins investigating the white Prius that Tyson had observed multiple times prior to its hasty departure following the explosion. Meanwhile, Bodhi and his team ponder enhanced security options, such as closing their marijuana shop, but ultimately opt against it. Regretting his role in Mark’s predicament, Tyson swears vengeance, as his mother has cut off all contact with him due to her belief in his guilt.

In Kansas City, Bill Bevilaqua is pondering his next move. Contrary to his tough stance at the end of the last episode, he doesn’t plan on breaking his agreement with Dwight soon, given that Dwight is generating profits for them with minimal effort required from them. However, he’s aware that he’s high up on the list of suspects due to the mob’s historical use of car bombs in Kansas City. Interestingly, Dwight and his associates are quite astute; they believe the use of car bombs, a common tactic in Kansas City, is one reason they think it wasn’t Kansas City because it would be too obvious. Despite some of his captains suggesting to eliminate Dwight and Tyson and take over Tulsa’s operations, Bill manages to dissuade them from such actions.

In New York City, the rift between boss Chickie and underboss Vince becomes increasingly deep. Domenick Lombardozzi gives an impressive portrayal of a person who should not be in the position he’s in because he tends to blame others for his own mistakes. A prime example is that he’s still upset with Vince for attending the meeting in Atlanta last episode without him, yet Chickie allows Dwight to talk to Vince on the phone since he was present… only to complain about it afterward, disliking that Dwight spoke directly to Vince. Vince, frustrated, tells Chickie he shouldn’t have put him on the phone if he felt that way. It’s a classic example of poor leadership characterized by passive-aggressiveness.

In this compelling scene brimming with authenticity, I found myself deeply moved as Vince, the charismatic character portrayed by Vincent Piazza, takes charge. Surrounded by an ensemble of talented actors who embody the essence of the New York underworld (Guy Nardulli, Ron Castellano, Paul Carafotes, and Bobby Costanzo), Vince delivers a persuasive proposition to the captains from the city’s four other families. He subtly demands that Chickie be removed, the family be taken over, and a peaceful alliance with Dwight be established. The influential figures seem open to this suggestion, particularly upon hearing the rumor about Chickie’s betrayal of his own father to claim power, although they must first seek approval from their respective bosses. Such scenes are a stark reminder that Vincent Piazza is not merely Sylvester Stallone’s antagonist but the captivating Lucky-fucking-Luciano from Boardwalk Empire. (Much like Piazza and head writer Terence Winter, this episode’s writer, Flebotte, is a veteran of Boardwalk.)

The final suspect in this case is Cal Thresher’s. As Dwight and his group start to doubt that one of their rival Mafia groups could be responsible, the black-hatted marijuana baron becomes the obvious next person under suspicion. First, Dwight confronts Armand, whom he believes has been secretly providing Cal with information, albeit unwillingly. Later, Dwight and his massive bodyguard, Bigfoot, pay a visit to Thresher’s marijuana farm itself, hurling accusations at him, which he denies with what appears to be genuine honesty.

However, sincerity can be deceptive at times. While Cal might assert his innocence regarding the bombing without hesitation, he cannot claim the same for Jackie, his Triad partner. As expected, Jackie has hidden a Prius beneath a tarp behind Cal’s greenhouses. As Cal becomes increasingly agitated about Manfredi potentially discovering the car and its owner, Jackie resolves two issues at once by silencing the driver and having the entire situation disposed of. This way, one loose end is taken care of.

In contrast, Tyson isn’t exempt from criticism. Towards midpoint of the episode, he receives a stern reprimand from Mitch, a man who has indeed taken a life and served time for it. This dialogue, taking place in the series’ most lavishly illuminated location – the casino with its deep reds, blues, and golds – is among my favorite in the show’s history.

In this scenario, as Tyson, portrayed by Jay Will, broods over his guilt for the attack and his desire for revenge, Garrett Hedlund’s character Mitch displays an unyielding intolerance to nonsense. When Tyson ponders aloud about why he gave his father the car, Mitch retorts emphatically, “Because it was a wonderful, thoughtful gesture!” As Tyson subtly threatens revenge, Mitch curtails him with a weary “Just stop talking.” He concludes his speech poignantly, drawing from deep within: “When you take a life, a part of you also perishes.” This moment is quite impactful.

The situation escalates towards a crucial point where Tyson disregards all counsel and heads to Bill Bevilaqua’s residence with the intention of laying in ambush. Sitting in his parked car, Tyson’s expression is accentuated by the cool, hazy night as portrayed by the camera, while Dwight urgently calls him on Mark’s insistence. He conveys that he traced the owner of the Prius and advises Tyson against any actions he might be considering. However, one of Bevilaqua’s men has now spotted Tyson parked outside the property and charges towards him down the driveway, firing weapons. Tyson manages to wound the assailant and flee, but this incident significantly increases the likelihood of conflict between Dwight and Bill, both of whom are reluctant to engage in combat at this moment in time.

By the way, Dwight ends things with Margaret, the beautiful rancher, which was the source of Thresher’s annoyance since Dwight is just a minor player. However, Dwight quickly retracts his decision, and Margaret invites him back to her place. It seems being the Tulsa King has its perks.

In simpler terms, if you were to imagine the optimal version of the show Tulsa King, this episode would be it. This series isn’t intended to provide a deep analysis of human wickedness or serve as a forensic examination of evil deeds, and I understand that. What’s more, there will undoubtedly be moments where everyone finds Dwight’s humor and charm amusing, and I’m okay with that as well.

However, just because no one seems to have a definitive solution for the car bombing incident – neither Dwight nor Chickie, Bill nor Cal, Vince nor Tyson – doesn’t mean it can’t be intriguing, unexpected, even amusing. What captivated me was the intense discussion and speculation among them all as they tried to uncover the truth behind the event. Unfortunately for Cal, his associate Jackie turned out to be the offender. Until then, I couldn’t help but wonder who set the bomb and how the innocent parties could clear their names and escape Dwight and Tyson’s suspicion.

The acting is exceptional all around again, with Stallone delivering some chilling performances as Dwight, revealing genuine anger beneath his friendly facade, even pausing mid-sentence because he realizes he’s too enraged to continue without a break. Hedlund excels in portraying Mitch’s wisdom and remorse that Tyson can understand. It’s astonishing how naturally Max Casella fits into the role of a mustached ranch hand while still embodying a fugitive New York gangster on the run. The interaction between Lombardozzi and Piazza is reminiscent of classic HBO dramas being reborn before your eyes. Jay Will makes Tyson’s tough-guy persona feel like a heartbreaking tragedy.

In an amusing twist, even the comic actor Steve Witting joins in the fun as Donnie Shore, who agrees to drive off his car lot upon Tyson’s demand with “whatever the hell you got,” responding with a friendly drawl, “Alright, well, that’s what I’ve got!” His rustic car-salesman dialect is humorously mocked by one of the FBI agents who visits Dwight’s door regarding the bombing. When Dwight suggests not to wait by the phone for a call, the agent (Aaron Cavette) quips back, “Dwight, your old-fashionedness is showing; no one waits by the phone anymore.” A clever comeback indeed!

If you tally everything together, this episode turns out to be the most enjoyable one of the season thus far. Flebotte and director Kevin Dowling, who specializes in portraying the rich atmosphere of casinos as well as the internal struggles of doubtful mobsters, truly excelled in their work on this particular production.

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2024-10-27 17:54