"The Death of Dutton: A Soap Opera Slip-Up or a Cunning Ploy?"
Ah, the soap opera genre – where the art of killing off a character is a delicate dance between drama and desperation. And, folks, the recent exit of Kevin Costner’s John Dutton from the Paramount Network’s hit series Yellowstone is a perfect example of how not to do it. I mean, who needs a dignified farewell when you can just blow your brains out in the bathroom? Classy.
Now, I’m not one to mourn the loss of a fictional character, but come on, John Dutton was the backbone of Yellowstone. He was the rugged, stoic, and oh-so-American patriarch of the Dutton family. And to reduce his demise to a hastily staged suicide? It’s like killing off a soap opera legend with a cheap plot twist. The writers must have been having a laugh, thinking, "You know what would be a great way to write out our star? A half-baked, narratively implausible suicide!"
Of course, the twist – and I use that term loosely – is that Dutton’s son Jamie (played by Wes Bentley) staged the whole thing. Ah, because nothing says "family drama" like a good old-fashioned patricide… or not. It’s a convoluted mess, really. And let’s not forget the autopsy scene, where we get to see the former governor of Montana lying on a cold metal slab, his Costner-esque aura thoroughly diminished.
Now, I’m not here to bash the entire series. Yellowstone has its moments, and Taylor Sheridan’s vision for a rural America is certainly… interesting. But the show’s attempt to fill the void left by Dutton’s departure is like trying to replace a cowboy with a rodeo clown. It just doesn’t quite work.
Sheridan’s universe is all about the land, hard work, and camaraderie between men. And, of course, the obligatory villain – in this case, the evil real estate mogul Sara Atwood. It’s a world that’s equal parts elegy and exaltation, where the rugged individualism of the American West is revered and the "other America" (you know, the one Trump always goes on about) is the only one that matters.
But let’s not get too carried away with the symbolism here. At the end of the day, Yellowstone is a soap opera, and a fairly predictable one at that. The show’s reliance on idyllic segments showcasing the cowboys’ lifestyle is like a warm hug for the audience – a comforting reminder that, yes, there’s still a place for rugged individualism in this crazy world.
And, of course, the merchandising opportunities are endless. I mean, who wouldn’t want to buy a Stetson hat or a pair of cowboy boots to show off their love for the series? It’s a clever marketing ploy, really. Create a parallel world, a cultural phenomenon that transcends the screen, and voilà! You’ve got a thriving market on your hands.
In conclusion, the demise of John Dutton is a soap opera slip-up of epic proportions. But hey, who needs dignity when you can have drama, intrigue, and a healthy dose of American nostalgia? The show will go on, and the Yellowstone universe will continue to thrive, even without its beloved patriarch. After all, as the great philosopher, Taylor Sheridan, once said, "The other America is not just a state of mind, it’s also a thriving market."
When an actor leaves a soap opera, it is normal to kill his character, but the way Kevin Costner and the writers of the very successful series Yellowstone, broadcast on Paramount Network in the USA, on Sky and Now in Italy, handled the farewell of the iconic character John Dutton, it seems we can say that the departure was not only premature but also poorly executed.
Costner, engaged in the epic undertaking of remaking the western universe he knows so well with the two Horizon films, had cited calendar issues and creative disagreements, confirming that he would not return to complete the last part of the fifth season, which was also supposed to be the last, of Yellowstone, a series that had been built around his character and that in many ways was his own.
AS at the opening of the first episode of the last season, we find the body of John Dutton (Costner), in his underwear on the bathroom floor, after having apparently shot himself in the head, a narrative choice that is not only an insult to the character but also narratively implausible, considering that John Dutton is a man who never stopped at nothing to protect the endless family ranch that occupies a vast portion of the state of Montana, of which he also became governor.
However, already in the second episode, in the autopsy scene, we discover that in reality, the suicide was staged, not even very well, and that the culprit is his attorney son Jamie (Wes Bentley), ensnared by Sara Atwood, an evil lawyer from the real estate giant Market Equity who has always dreamed of getting her hands on Yellowstone and transforming the wild green valley into a mega tourist resort, a plan that the Duttons and their allies will try to stop in the remaining episodes.
Moreover, the alliance between the Duttons and Thomas Rainwater, leader of the Indian reservation of Broken Rock, and original inhabitant of those lands, later conquered by the whites, will be crucial in the fight against Market Equity, an alliance that has its roots in a phrase from the first seasons in which Rainwater defined the Duttons as the new Indians, because they too were about to be removed from their properties.
It is also worth noting that the series has no shortage of interesting characters and Taylor Sheridan, the showrunner, seems increasingly inclined to dedicate long idyllic segments to the lifestyle of the cowboys that have nothing to do with the dramatic development, a choice that sometimes makes the series feel like a soap, especially now that the iconic character of John Dutton is no longer there.
BUT THE DISAPPEARANCE of Dutton/Costner, in its iconic gravitas, it also left a conceptual void, reducing everything to just another soap, lacking the complexity and depth that the character brought to the story.
However, the end of Yellowstone it won’t have much impact on the network’s schedule and audience ratings because Taylor Sheridan, who is showrunner, has already populated the network with two prequels (1883 and 1923) in which we discover the origins of the Dutton family and the ranch, a possible sequel, The Madison with Michelle Pfeiffer, and a spin-off set on the large Texan ranch 6666, already appeared in Yellowstone and whose products such as hot barbecue sauce are sold in the series’ commercial breaks.
Moreover, 6666 is an active ranch which, since 2020, belongs to Taylor Sheridan, a fact that highlights the extent to which the Yellowstone universe has become a cultural phenomenon, transforming the internet into a parallel world/culture, under the banner of a proudly rural America, anchored to the past (since 1889!, says the commercial for the popular Carhartt work clothes) in which spectators wear Stetson hats, boots, and denim shirts, drive pick-up trucks or shiny tractors, and drink bourbon or local beers.
