A Tale of Two Shows: High-Octane Crude and Low-Octane Soap
When Landman roared back onto Paramount+ for its second season, it did so with the subtlety of a blowout preventer failing on a high-pressure well. The premiere episode, "Death and a Sunset," shattered platform records, drawing in a staggering 9.2 million viewers in its first 48 hours. Yet, despite the commercial triumph, the episode serves as a perfect microcosm of the show's polarizing identity crisis.
On one hand, we have a gripping, high-stakes corporate thriller about the brutal economics of the Permian Basin. On the other, we are subjected to a messy, often cringe-inducing family soap opera that feels airlifted from a different network entirely. As Tommy Norris (Billy Bob Thornton) navigates the fallout of Season 1, viewers are treated to a masterclass in whiplash—swinging wildly between Taylor Sheridan’s best writing and his most frustrating impulses.
Cami Miller: The Lioness Roars
If there was any doubt about who would fill the power vacuum left by Monty Miller's death, Demi Moore crushed it within the first act. As Cami Miller, Moore undergoes a terrifyingly effective transformation from grieving widow to ruthless corporate warlord.
The episode’s standout moment belongs entirely to her. Facing a room full of nervous bankers and predatory investors smelling blood in the water, Cami delivers what is already being dubbed the "Serengeti speech." She doesn't plead for their patience; she demands their submission. "I am not the gazelle," she warns them, eyes steely and voice dropping an octave. "I am the lioness in the Serengeti."
It is a scene that anchors the corporate storyline, proving that Cami is not just protecting her late husband's legacy—she is actively expanding it. For a show often criticized for its writing of women, Cami Miller stands as a glorious, sharp-toothed exception.
Cooper's Lucky Strike (and Unlucky Love)
While the titans battle in the boardroom, the next generation is getting its hands dirty in the dust. Cooper Norris (Jacob Lofland), Tommy’s son, achieves every wildcatter’s dream in the premiere: he strikes oil on his very first venture.
The sequence is pure, kinetic cinema—the ground shaking, the crew shouting, and finally, the black gold spewing into the West Texas sky. It’s a life-changing moment that promises to turn Cooper into a millionaire overnight. However, Sheridan wisely undercuts the triumph with a heavy dose of foreboding.
While Cooper is intoxicated by his success, his girlfriend Ariana (Paulina Chávez) watches with visible unease. Her reaction isn't joy; it's fear. She recognizes instantly that the money changes the equation, turning their scrappy partnership into something far more complicated and potentially corrupting. It’s a subtle narrative thread that suggests Cooper’s "lucky strike" might be the beginning of his personal unraveling.
The Domestic Disaster
Unfortunately, the momentum comes to a screeching halt whenever the cameras turn to the Norris household. The return of Tommy’s ex-wife Angela (Ali Larter) and daughter Ainsley (Michelle Randolph) brings with it the show’s most glaring flaws.
The premiere features yet another chaotic dinner scene—a trope that is quickly becoming the show's Achilles' heel. Angela’s behavior is written as erratic to the point of caricature, oscillating between aggression and hysteria in a way that lacks narrative justification. Critics and fans on Reddit have been quick to label these sequences as "Jerry Springer-esque," noting how jarringly they clash with the serious tone of the oil plotlines.
The dialogue given to Ainsley continues to be a point of contention, often reducing her to a one-dimensional figure that seems to exist solely to annoy her father or titillate the audience. These scenes feel like filler, dragging down the sophisticated drama happening elsewhere in the episode.
Enter the Legend: A Sunset to Remember
Just when the domestic melodrama threatens to derail the premiere, Sam Elliott rolls onto the screen and saves the day without saying a word.
Introduced as T.L. Norris, Tommy’s estranged father, Elliott spends his first scene in a wheelchair, stubbornly watching the West Texas sunset while nursing home staff try to wheel him inside. The silence is broken only by a nurse delivering the devastating news: his wife, Dorothy, has passed away in her sleep.
Elliott’s reaction is a masterclass in understated acting. The way his face crumbles—a mixture of grief, resignation, and the sudden, crushing weight of solitude—grounds the show emotionally in a way nothing else has. It’s a reminder of the human cost of this hard-living world, and it sets up a father-son dynamic with Billy Bob Thornton that promises to be the season's emotional backbone.
The Verdict
"Death and a Sunset" is a frustratingly uneven start to a season with massive potential. When Landman focuses on the mechanics of the oil industry, the high-stakes corporate maneuvering, and the complex relationships between its male leads (and Cami), it is premier television. The addition of Sam Elliott is a stroke of genius that pays immediate dividends.
However, the show remains hamstrung by its inability to write compelling domestic drama for its supporting female characters. If Season 2 can lean into the "Landman" and less into the "Real Housewives of the Permian Basin," it could be a masterpiece. For now, it's a gusher that's spraying as much mud as it is oil.
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