Taylor Sheridan’s Most Controversial Storyline Tainted His Greatest Show

To many fans and critics, 1923 is the best show in the Yellowstone franchise. There is no delusion in their conclusion. The now-concluded prequel was nominated for numerous awards, including a Golden Globe for Best Television Miniseries – Drama. Lead actors Helen Mirren and Harrison Ford also received numerous awards for their incredible performances. Additionally, the show scored highly on Rotten Tomatoes, with Season 1 getting 88% and Season 2 getting 100%. However, others feel the show isn’t flawless, and one arc is to blame. It involves the abuse of prostitutes by Donald Whitfield, a ruthless villain portrayed by former James Bond actor Timothy Dalton. Many believe the story went too far, and some social media users have even lamented that they can no longer watch the spinoff with their families because of it. Would 1923 have been better if there was a greater focus on Whitfield’s feud with the Duttons rather than his bizarre sexual practices?

Timothy Dalton is Crueler Than a Bond Villain in ‘1923’

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For a long time, Timothy Dalton was just Agent 007. Unlike other James Bond actors, he was rarely associated with anything other than the spy franchise. Daniel Craig has Knives Out, Pierce Brosnan has Mamma Mia!, and many others, but Dalton was only known as Bond, even though he has been in several other great projects (mostly as a villain), including Chuck, Toy Story, and Flash Gordon. Thankfully, Dalton was cast in 1923 and decided to show everyone what he was truly made of. As interesting as Timothy Dalton’s other work is, none of his roles is as shock-inducing and viscerally intense as Donald Whitfield. The character’s scenes offer the most grueling of viewing experiences. The tycoon never fails to hold fans spellbound and wow them with his expert navigation of dramatic set-pieces and the unremittingly nihilistic air that surrounds him. But he is quite the devil.

Midway through Season 1, Whitfield is introduced as a wealthy British mining tycoon obsessed with acquiring the Dutton family’s Yellowstone Ranch in Paradise Valley, Montana. He proves a calculating figure, opting to use financial and legal tactics first before relying on violence like the show’s many other villains. In the role, Dalton sheds his charm completely, portraying the kind of villain who never raises his voice and is always sure about his choices, no matter how outlandish they are. Whitfield starts by paying the Duttons’ overdue property taxes, something they’ve been unable to do because of economic hardship. He then issues the family a deadline to repay him or leave the land to him. As the Duttons continue to struggle, Whitfield becomes more aggressive, picturing the land as a future tourist attraction. Beyond that, Whitfield is the first person to discover the “Train Station,” aka, the “Long Black Train,” a rural canyon area located past the Montana border into Wyoming, where the Duttons dump the bodies of their enemies for most of their franchise. Whitfield considers it the perfect place to dispose of the Duttons, but things don’t go according to plan.

Whitfield’s “Prostitute Arc” Is Too Extreme for the ‘Yellowstone’ Franchise

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You can hardly imagine a more disdainful disregard of human welfare than the one that Whitfield conveys in 1923, in the harshest and most pungent tones. Viewers get even more reasons to hate him when it is revealed (late in Season 1) that he regularly has prostitutes torture each other for his own amusement. Whitfield hires two prostitutes from Bozeman, Lindy and Christy. His predatory leanings are exposed by the ease with which he convinces them to stick around. The tycoon manipulates the women psychologically, ordering one of them to perform sadomasochistic acts on the other as he watches happily. It is a classic dark drama set up — characters trapped in a strange milieu they desperately want to flee from, but who, we know, are destined to fail in their bid for autonomy because of fate’s unpredictable turns. It makes sense to portray Whitfield as an abuser who enjoys watching others suffer for his own pleasure, but, regrettably, this particular storyline takes up too much screen time (it ends in the series finale), yet it contributes nothing to the larger primary arc involving Whitfield’s feud with the Duttons. And, the scenes are too graphic for a Sheridan show. For a long time, we feel like we are watching a horror show or movie, something like Misery, where people get tortured again and again for no good reason.

Lindy appears to enjoy the whole experience more, while Christy is depicted as a victim, ending up with various scars and having to bear being leashed like an animal. Will Christy escape? Well, the candle of hope gets blown out within minutes of being lit. Lindy accidentally kills Christy and recruits a replacement, Mabel. When Spencer Dutton confronts Whitfield at his mansion, he shoots him and then kills Lindy when she tries to attack. The smile-and-torture arc shouldn’t have stretched beyond three episodes. Unless it’s horror, abuse is never entertaining, but Taylor Sheridan (or the person who helped him craft the storyline) appears to believe that viewers are having a blast watching Whitfield and Lindy behind closed doors. The camera often aestheticizes the maltreatment, blurring the lines between abuse and glorification. It would have made sense to show the villain engaging in a variety of sadistic acts, not just torturing women for two seasons.

Donald Whitfield Would Have Been a More Iconic Villain Without the “Prostitute” Arc

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When Donald Whitfield was first introduced, he seemed like he was going to give Deadwood’s Al Swearengen a run for his money. He knew exactly what he wanted, and no one could tell him anything. Unfortunately, Whitfield is now remembered more for his interactions with Lindy and Christy than for anything else he did on the show. That’s what always happens when a formidable character gets restricted to a plot that overstays its welcome. It’s easy to see what Taylor Sheridan was trying to do. He intended to take a dig at colonialism and capitalism in the early 20th century, showing how a few men considered themselves powerful enough to conquer both land and people alike. But his point would have been made in only a few episodes. Sheridan appears to be on a one-man personal crusade to change the television landscape, and his distinctive scripting style has certainly found favor in many quarters. Many of his shows have been very well-received by both the critics and audiences, and 1923 has not only been met with comparable success, establishing him as one of the brightest minds today, but also tucked into the shelf of the greatest Westerns ever made.

Unfortunately, Sheridan has a habit of pushing buttons where it isn’t necessary, resulting in the consternation of some viewers. Who could ever forget the awkward conversation between Tommy and his daughter in Landman’s series premiere? 1923 pulls no punches while plunging the spectator into the grim reality of abuse, adopting a distinctive approach that feels like a chaotic fusion of drama and thriller. Whilst some viewers may (justifiably) judge the spinoff to be self-indulgent fodder for Western fans, it is impossible to overlook how bold it is in what it presents to us — a vibrant slice of daily life in all its wholesome and grotesque variety. However, Sheridan shouldn’t try too hard to adopt the dark HBO approach. If the writer/producer has learned this lesson from the criticism of 1923, we can expect great things from him in the future.