Last year, our family vacation took us to South Dakota. With squealing children in the back, CD changer loaded and ready, and the knowledge that Kansas from south to north would probably look about as exciting as driving it in any other direction, we set off for the Black Hills.

I could kick myself in the ass at this point for not having watched the Deadwood series, even just the first season of it, prior to heading out. Had I done so, we probably would’ve spent a helluva lot less time jacking around with Wounded Knee (where I met an Indian who lamented not the white man’s treatment of his people, but the fact that his children have gone all gangsta), the Badlands, and the mother of all overrated tourist attractions, Mt. Rushmore. As it was, we spent a few short hours in Deadwood itself, mostly just looking around for the graves of Wild Bill Hickock and Calamity Jane; now I want to go back and spend at least a week in the bars, swaggering around like Al Swearengen and calling every passerby a name that rhymes with “rockchucker”.

I really hated Westerns as a child, but the past few years have seen me softening my stance, mostly thanks to the “Man With No Name” movies, which reassured me that the Old West could be presented as something gritty, manly, foul, and therefore more realistic. Deadwood is not the West of John Wayne bloodless shoot-‘em-ups; it’s a series full of people in extremely bad moods, often in the act of offing their foes and feeding them to the pigs. It’s beyond obscene in its use of profanity (but hey, do you think the real Al Swearengen wasn’t a potty-mouth?). There are whores, murderers, thieves, perverts, people who laugh at cripples, and folks who taunt the local Chinese population with racist slurs. But most of all, there’s greatness.

Loosely based on the real Deadwood, the series follows the development of the town from an unincorporated camp on Sioux territory to something greater. The first season in particular deals primarily with Deadwood’s transition from a muddy strip of brothels to an honest-to-gosh community, with law, order, and the woes of having a fire marshal breathing down one’s neck. Having been to the real place, I can say that the town in the show sure looks an awful like Deadwood, though I can’t vouch for the historical accuracy of much of it (my guess is that the series follows the Mel Gibson approach to history, using just enough fact to make idiots think they’re experts on the subject after watching an episode or two).

There’s tension galore, but the most important relationship that underlies the entire first season is that between eventual sheriff Seth Bullock (played with outstanding intensity by Timothy Olyphant) and cutthroat brothel owner Al Swearengen (played with equal skill by British actor Ian McShane). Plenty of other worthy players both known and unknown pad the cast, including Powers Boothe (as Swearengen’s business rival Cy Tolliver), Brad Dourif (as the seriously cranky town physician), some guy I remember from Blade Runner (in the role of E.B. Farnham, hotel owner), real-life pedophile Jeffrey Jones as the newspaperman, and one of the Carradines as Wild Bill. You also have lots of prostitutes (some of them not unpleasant to behold either!), a seriously belligerent and not at all sexy Calamity Jane, a rich New York woman with a fondness for laudanum who gets widowed early on, and lots of others. The characters are rich and numerous, even though some of them only last an episode or two before finding themselves in the pig pen.

Unless you’re a very liberal parent, I wouldn’t say that Deadwood is overly children-friendly. Much has been made of the profanity (and believe me, there’s plenty of it), and there’s also a fair amount of violence, nudity (including some sexual stuff that’s at least implied if not shown graphically), gambling, drinking, mishandling of ministers, and other activities that your perfect little toddlers maybe ought not to see (it’s best that they learn about all of those things from their friends). Nothing offended me, but then again, nothing outside of direct attacks on my person or family really causes me to even stir in my sleep these days. PG-13 is the least I would give it, but I’d treat it as rated R if I were you. It was, after all, aired on HBO, which is where I got most of my jollies at the age of ten and younger.

There are twelve episodes in season one (and some extras, such as interviews with the creator, etc.- you know the routine), and I had a hard time not wanting to dive immediately into the next installment. Every episode brought in a new exciting drama while advancing the general storyline (I noticed that one or two new characters seemed to enter each time, with one or two others either leaving or dying). The acting is absolutely top-notch, and I wish for nothing but the most celebrated of movie careers for everybody involved. I haven’t even started on season two yet, but you know I’m god dang gonna.

Price-wise, Deadwood is stiffer than the randiest john at the Gem Saloon, so you might wanna rent an episode or two from Blockbuster before shelling out the major dough. I personally feel that it’s worth the cash; to the best of my knowledge, the Old West has rarely been portrayed with such a solid blend of humor and grit. This ain’t just a bunch of shitkickers rushing for their sidearms the entire time (in fact, there are surprisingly few deaths by bullet, from what I can remember). This series is about the timelessness of human motivations, be they evil, good, noble, or lusty. Things often take a turn for the unpleasant or gruesome (I was especially stunned by the murder of one of the major players only three or four episodes in), but that’s the way events unfold at the office, the strip club, or the carwash. Do yourself a favor and let Deadwood show you how the West can still be made entertaining if guided by the right hands and entrusted to the talents of skilled enough actors.


Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD