A profane TV masterpiece that deserves lots of your time
Catch up with the brilliance of Deadwood, before the up-coming movie hits screens
When news broke last week that HBO’s shamefully short-lived series Deadwood will be brought back to life via a feature-length movie, its fans were elated.
From 2004 to 2006, David Milch’s show — set in gritty 1870s South Dakota, with real-life historical figures including famous frontierswoman Calamity Jane and folk heroes “Wild Bill” Hickok and Wyatt Earp — became a darling of critics and a smash hit with anyone who loved the Western genre and/or superb dramatic dialogue.
However, after only three seasons and 36 episodes, Deadwood was cancelled, a victim of a business dispute between the network and co-producer Paramount.
In one sense, that the end of a series illustrating life’s cruelty, letdowns and unfairness came so abruptly and absent of good reason was entirely fitting for Deadwood.
But that was small solace to those of us swept up in Milch’s stunning vision of the relentless environmental and emotional tumult inherent in the birthing of a new community and social order.
For approaching a decade, the show’s devotees have clung to the hope the cast and sets could be reassembled for a TV mini-movie or truncated fourth season but, until now, all we’ve had are those 36 episodes.
But now, it’s confirmed: We have a film to look forward to. It’s a gift not only to Deadwood fans, but to you — yes, you, person who hasn’t seen the series.
Because now you’ve got more than enough time to get your hands on Seasons 1 to 3 and be properly prepared when Milch’s final act for the story hits the silver screen (optimistically, in 2017).
And whatever you do, do not see the Deadwood movie unless you’re caught up on the TV series.
Milch undoubtedly will structure the film so it’s possible to enjoy it without seeing a minute of the TV show, but if you consume the movie as a stand-alone work of art you do the kind of disservice to it that would have led to a gun duel a century-anda-half ago.
That would mean wilfully ignoring the creation and evolution of all of the plot lines, key characters and performances behind them, including town sheriff Seth Bullock ( Justified’s Timothy Olyphant), bereaved businesswoman Alma Garret (Canada’s Molly Parker), physician Doc Cochrane ( One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’s Brad Dourif) and prostitute Trixie ( Ray Donovan’s Paula Malcomson).
Most of all, you’d be missing the backstory of Al Swearengen, saloon owner, Bullock’s chief antagonist and one of the greatest anti-heroes (if not TV characters, period) modern drama has to offer. Portrayed brilliantly by British star Ian McShane, Swearengen — based on a notorious, real villain who owned a South Dakota brothel in the late 19th century — is riveting in every frame and his whispers are often more terrifying than his screams.
If your initial encounter with him is through the movie, you’re actively robbing yourself of the deeper character arc that’s made him such an icon.
And that’s a major part of the beau- ty of Milch’s accomplishment with Deadwood: there are scores of meaningful and diverse character journeys to enjoy.
Whether it’s Bullock, his wife Martha ( Breaking Bad’s Anna Gunn), prospector Whitney Ellsworth ( Supernatural’s Jim Beaver), Hickok ( Fargo’s Keith Carradine), Calamity Jane ( Sons of Anarchy’s Robin Weigert), town merchant Sol Star ( Eastbound & Down’s John Hawkes) or a slew of others, virtually everyone in Deadwood is significantly different at the end of Season 3 than they were at first blush.
No prologue before the movie will adequately inform you of the richness of the characters the way those 36 episodes will. And even if the movie is as finely crafted in the writing department as the series was, skipping the show will deprive you of some of the finest, most poetic dialogue you’ll ever see on a big or small screen.
Milch painstakingly crafted lines to give them a theatrical feel and musical cadence, injecting each monologue and exchange between characters with an urgency that takes hold of viewers’ attention and never lets go.
Speaking of Deadwood’s dialogue: if you are in any way offended by vulgarity and cursing, this is not the show for you. Milch makes obscenity part of his art here, using F-bombs as paintbrushes to colour his canvas, and if you can appreciate characters with super-salty tongues, you’ll never find ones with more salt on them than Deadwood’s.
There’s a reason why this show can’t be syndicated, but any series that wins eight Emmy Awards with this many expletives must be about more than the shock factor.
But back to the original point: if you haven’t seen the series, do yourself a favour and push through it as soon as possible.
If you put in the time, you’ll be properly rewarded for it when the story has been finally, fully finished.
No prologue before the movie will help newcomers appreciate the richness of the characters in Deadwood’s 36 episodes