Due to a forced period of convalescence, sitting and doing very little became my best friend, so I might heal and in doing so, finally pressed play on "Yellowstone" and actually got past the shooting of the horse.  I am MOSTLY HAT but can ride when required (ie. when an ominous unnecessarily envious wife took me on a trail ride and kept shoving her horse aggressively into mine until it took off galloping (no trot was this) according to her nefarious plans - I did not die, however - so, I didn't adhere to the agenda, alas & yeehaw!).  If unfamiliar with the series "Yellowstone" is shot in Bozeman, other parts of Montana, and Utah in earlier seasons. 

I have traveled to Bozeman and it's fascinating to see familiar scenes in hotels, etc. (Big Sky's temples to Artemis) festooned with stuffed "art" from noteworthy taxidermists, at one point disturbing or macabre to the cosmopolitan or "woods-to-table" uninitiated, now considered "mountain chic" or, more gesticulatingly, "hunter forward fabulous!" (or could it be "shotgun Rococo"?).  The soundtrack is an Americana revival revelation to be celebrated & not seen since "O Brother, where art thou?"  One wonders if Costner, famously suggesting Dolly Parton's "I will always love you" to be eternalized by Whitney Houston for "The Bodyguard," had any part in song selection.

"Yellowstone" infiltrated popular culture with its enduring epidemic of cowboy/girl attire, where the infected before had no notion, nay, had aversion to such costumery now emerge from barns (exclusively of Pottery) - not in Gotham black - but donned in full hat bedazzlery, brazenly unapologetically buckled with speech often belying accoutrements.  Of particular spectacular dichotomy worth witnessing is when, issued forth from fringe, come utterances unmistakably indigenous to famed boroughs invoking in this writer a longing to hear Bob Nelson's "Cool Water" sung by any Bronx native ready to "hat & pony up."  (This song also opens the "Ballad of Buster Scruggs" with Tim Blake Nelson in full gunslinger tongue-in-cheek-glee.)

Far more disturbing, far more dangerous than the bombardment of eye-bleeding bling, fringe, and copious leather, is the brain-bleeding, blood-letting carnage defining the show.  Quentin Tarantino compared violent sequences to tap numbers (the only actor capable of shuffling-off-the-buffalo bridging this divide, paradiddling across, and shave and a haircut (two bits!) on the other side, is the singular Chris Walken).  In "Yellowstone" the violence is like getting a cup of coffee with the entire series shot at a coffee shop.  Violence is not a minor thing.  If you've experienced it it's undoubtedly changed you leaving experiences you must work/have worked very hard to heal.  But, in this show, we'll just have another dead body - or a double half-caff mocha latte with extra foam - NEXT! (TO BE KILLED)?  Without remorse or awareness "Yellowstone's" characters do not grow, change, or learn; desultory - no denouement - no Pacino in a boat starkly alone, afloat, but with nothing left that mattered. 

With a plot clearly inspired by "The Godfather" (family/mangia scenes replaced with yet another montage of making cows neurotic), the vast stunning scenery and backdrops inspire beauty, awe, reverence (even through a TV screen) that the glaring question itches again & again (but no scratches for you!):  Why do these people never focus on the good?  Embedded in the extravagance of nature, does this magnificence have no effect, no power to assuage?  Do these hallowed grounds provide no more value than ownership?  Could they not resoundingly renew if its populace would but allow for some genuflection the environment so effectuates?  Having lived in it or forced to defend it does its magic subside; no longer able to touch souls or carry them beyond selfish pursuits into the face of God surrounding them at every turn except when turning within? 

I have seen this absence of deference to nature in places like rural Appalachia or tiny towns in Washington state.  Due to a lack of municipal services or "something to do" pristine hillsides are littered with washing machines, sinks, toilets, random paraphernelia marring otherwise bucolic perfection; mini junkyards with clunker cars rusting beyond repair sit like decrepit modern art drowning trailer homes perfectly situated to gaze on unobstructed priceless views.  "Mother Nature has spoiled us so, why create our own beauty?" seems to be the (lack of) reason.  "Yellowstone's" juxtaposition is much more jarring:  overwhelming natural marvels against ineffable violence (the land used as excuse for it no less!); knee-jerk miscreants behaving as ugly as possible inciting such disgust in this viewer that this coveted ranch, so purportedly worth saving or having at EVERY COST, was rendered something more worthy of being lost than kept or won by any of this bunch of Yah-Hoos.

Can a show take human-branding and make it casual - a gimmick(!) - a running gag, even?  "Alrighty folks, step right up fer yur brandin'!"?  Well, congratulations horse hobbyist/enthusiast Tyler Sheridan, what an accomplishment!  The show serves up an endless array of shocks without logical aftermath, nary a sign of evolution (our r'aison d'etre, denied!) and without understanding of how to proceed, "Yellowstone" simply seeks to shock over and again, making one ponder if jocks have been one-upped in the concussion department by Hollywood wanna-be-cowboys who've been bucked and slammed to the earth several times too many.  The professional horsemen/women who guest on the show are impressively skilled providing welcome reality and talent, a pleasure to watch, no bunk house clown act required.

The cast do their best with the material provided and are likable individuals largely out of their depth due to the extreme darkness they're tasked to encapture - and even they seem weary from the whiplash.  Violence to this degree can render a deadness in more feeling countenances while its perpetrators are more frightening and bone-chilling than actors with a "like me!" attitude could apprehend, let alone portray.  Empirically, the tacit agreed upon contract between creator and consumer is continuing to be violated as trend:  Diabolical glamour over edification, woeful attempts to appear avant-garde by circumventing meaning or payoff in truth or consequences - truth of consequences - and re: "Yellowstone," offering not an iota of redemption or satisfaction for time invested watching what at first compelled, only to falter so fatuously... so flaccidly.

Poor Wes Bentley, whose "Jamie" had/has the most potential for self-awareness and spear-heading a new direction for the show is just asked to reprise his wormy ways, almost as annoyingly cloying as the theme song from "High Noon."  (Though Bentley does seem to play individuals demanding a good slap upside the head.)  His birth father is the cryptic and relied-upon-to-be-creepy Will Patton, delivering another superb villain, though an opportunity here is lost where Jamie should've been stabbed in the back by his user/con/father, and perhaps at last have a little gratitude for growing up with the Duttons, even with fork to the thigh under the table from sister Beth!  Beth!  Where to begin?  Brought to life by British character actress, Kelly Reilly, Beth is one of the most interesting females to mosey on to ANY screen for a very long time, is also forced to remain redundant, and what a shame.

We encounter her first as a sociopathic Mae West, delightful, pugilistic (but loveable!), and the story reveals the painful inception giving rise to this defiant confused and complicated personality but, as the seasons go on, we see the actress aching for an arch, doing her best to lend intelligence to her tour-de-force bravura performance lest it become mere bravado devolving into caricature due to script limitations.  Kevin Costner is an unconvincing psychotic (we like Green Mountain coffee, too!), his benign avuncularity and mild-mannered disposition far-fetched as patriarchal steward of ruthless and murderous everyday ways that are just a ho-hum golly-gee whiz part of running a ranch & now, let's take another trip to the train station!

Costner is undeniably likable and NOTHING about him says "cutthroat calloused crusader of scorched earth reprisal."  The incongruities of these actual people playing such terrible people is a gap too wide to reconcile for most.  The actors are not at fault for the show's failures and earlier parts of the series are eye-gluing though gruesome.  What "Yellowstone" inculcates, 0ther than the contagious cowboy boot, is an even darker contagion of the psyche:  How does one fully discern violent actions when pain after pain, damage upon damage inflicted has repercussions only created by make-up artists?  Pain dominates and when actors act reality is sacrificed because real damage and pain tell their own story revealing more than pretending EVER could.  Pretend knows little of karma, antagonizing suffering, unspeakable cruelty, excruciating pain...  Nothing of this degree is at stake because what's at stake is still pretend.  Directors, editors, & writers are critical here in supporting even great acting to achieve verisimilitude and pathos.

For a naive and overly credulous viewer "Yellowstone's" behavior is too easily emulated.  Immaturity (not age) knows not enough loss or heartbreak to understand how to behave or why (temporal lobes yet to drop or ripen) with predictably appalling and pathetic results chronic myopia and self-absorption without empathy must bring.  "Yellowstone's" theme of female-on-female violent action is perhaps its greatest disservice to society.  Women are randomly being punched in the street & beating on one another in rising numbers, violence escalating to a personal, hands-on level everywhere, vigorous and cruel, and though arguments are made exonerating violence from begetting more violence, it is fact we learn most from others' behavior and it is but committed ignorance that won't recognize one more correlation between its overall uptick and what's depicted on this popular show.  

What can I say about the expletives peppered throughout, forget gratuitous, they're not dialogue so much as a rat-a-tat-tat cadence of a ceaseless drumline.  F-ing this, f-ing, f-ing, f-ing, f-ing is the mantra of the show used in any and every situation, even where silence would be better, like a treasonous facial tic betraying a too-labored attempt at "toughness" as authentic is as as a lead silver dollar.  Swearing often indicates a constant state of frustration where words bubble forth and pop out to release some of the pressure of that frustration.  They're popular choices when in pain or exasperation; flirting with car accidents (or living past 2020 in America), but, ideally we should strive to change our inner environments so there's no longer a need, however, watching the show definitely made me want to use expletives - like WTF.*  (Jeremy Allen White I love you, but who knew Chicago Italian Beef is only served up with a side of bottomless deep-fried epithets??!)

The compulsivity indicates insecurity but the plot is strong enough through early seasons to largely forgo cursing but for key moments.  At one point profanity was used to make a point, or as a natural reaction or response to an extreme situation - or for comedic effect - but as space filler it's a lazy crutch and fear of appearing "unsophisticated" to a puerile Hollywood mindset where happiness is akin to corniness - the most deadly of sins.  It's an instinctive belief (compunction shoved to the periphery) in increasing increments of subversion - "'daring' dirt & grit" - as the only viable art with the intent of power washing excrement laden halos of tin through the absolution of a "hit":  the only god to these yellow-bellied purveyors of la nostalgie de la boue. 

The show abruptly ends as it begins - with a bullet to the head - then, a coma.  Severe mental/emotional constipation and precocious rigor mortis (see sepsis) set in and the sudden halt in the middle of season 5(5A) is more merciful to the show, if outrageous to the audience, giving writers a chance to regroup.  (5B seems to be on the table so let's hope creators bring forth more humanity, transcendent love, even a breakthrough, something real & all will be forgiven.)  What draws one in in spite of stalled story lines are the sumptuous vistas and long shots conveying such splendor one feels almost present... there breathing in that mountain air!  Nature on that scale has the ability to refresh our souls inspiring imperfect Haiku:  Seeing majesty, reflecting our majesty. Together as one. 

Are we not as guilty as "Yellowstone's" characters, surrounded in ridiculous abundance by divine sublime beauty, only to cast it aside for ego-laden pursuits or dalliances with self-negation deemed more important?  The way we too take so much for granted, ignoring the good or minimizing its value when there's so much beauty without AND within...  Are we not also as idiotic, stubbornly looking to pettiness, superiority, reproach, punishment - no mirrors of stunning terrain - no glory but vainglorious?  Do we too stand as losers atop scattered dirt to which we clung and still cling, sunken into the ground lower than when we began, claiming pyrrhic victory celebrated only by the foolish but to ourselves, frauds?

"Yellowstone" reminds us with its insouciant neglect of meaning that what matters is not whether you "win" or "lose" but HOW you "won" or "lost" by how we behave along the way.  What we'll remember, and be remembered for, is the way we treat people and the way we treat ourselves.  Our greatest regrets are the ways we withhold love from others & ourselves while trying to impress the world with self-importance because we feel unimportant, because we want attention or control, triggering compensatory actions no matter how undignified or unwarranted as automaton slaves to fearful egos and festering rejection.  These primordial interlopers become paroxysmal impetuses - no praise, success, or acceptance adequate to usurp them - when so removed from our meritorious selves.  "Yellowstone" also reminds us no entertainment, well-written or otherwise, is worth such stress.

If you're a sensitive viewer be circumspect with what you allow into your orbit.  Like an addiction seeking the next hit, hit, hit,  "Yellowstone" at this juncture leaves watchers with everything to be desired, dissatisfied, dystopian.  But let's aspire to what these sorry characters cannot:  There's gold in them hills and it's ours to extract.  We learn from negativity when in surfeit and emetic discomfort we crawl bloodied to the threshold of truth & grace, at last looking up from the ground at what's right with the world and not wrong, what's best about us & not worst.  It's when we're pushed, our own energy used against us, to the point where martyrdom just seems silly and all this suffering unnecessary.  This is when we begin to mine that gold & deposit it into our being as working capital to be drawn upon daily, hourly, affording a life lived we can be proud of when no one is looking, publicly embodying principles only defined through these hard-won inner reserves.  This is wealth exceeding any other kind.  Let's giddyup and get it.  ~t.      


Postscript:  Though Montana is gorgeous I wasn't allured because it's just too cold!  Its resource of clean, clean water is renowned and it is with hope this lauded asset is maintained no matter how many of the privileged faction of power players come to desecrate what was and give cowboy boots a bad name.

*My father used to clap his hands with delight when I would use American curse words as a child (I never swore in Thai), to his expat ears they had no visceral impact and I'd do just about anything to make him laugh so, though I preferred more punctilious speech I could curse with the best of them!  Its excessive use elicits a recoiling however and being more true to my own person as an adult I make the effort to try not to normalize what began as obscenity no matter its ubiquity.  To each their own.

Whew, what a ride!  Don't know 'bout you but I'm 'bout to be bow-legged gettin' down from this hoss!  What say we play this here song before headin' on out?

"Keep your face always towards the sun and shadows will fall behind you."
~Walt Whitman

3 Truths &...

1.  Take up a happy hobby.

Give yourself a rest.  If you create more problems for yourself and are the source of much of your misery - it's time to stop being so productive!  Take some time off the nasty pile on make more happy happen.

WHY CHOOSE MOUNTAINS WHEN YOU CAN HAVE MOLEHILLS?

2.  Unlearn Fear 

And take up Faith.  Fear is something that's usually indulged.  If you've spoiled your mind, and thus your life, by entertaining your fears, then you need new dinner party guests.  Try inviting Faith - even forgiveness in - and see how pleasant company can be without all the drama.

NO RELIGION NECESSARY: JUST PEACE OF MIND.

3. Honor the Struggle  

By giving thanks for all the little things.  Did you know once you start doing that, you can be grateful for the big things, too?  Perhaps even the things that appear to be terrible could have some lesson to be learned we could be grateful for?  When we stop resenting something, we stop giving it power over us.  When we can accept love is present & an opportunity for growth, reality becomes something beautiful and noble.  

WISDOM TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE.