After hearing
so much praise for Deadwood, I
decided to try it. In some respects, I make a good test audience for the
series: I do not like westerns or period drama in general. However Deadwood lives up to the hype: it is far
closer to Shakespeare than John Wayne. The plotting is uncomplicated – it feels
rather like an old-west version of Dallas
at times – but that direct structure provides room to for the strongest traits
to shine. The writers invest time developing interesting characters and human
conflict, some of which operates on a micro-scale. Most surprising is the
amount of comedy on offer. The series is frequently laugh-out-loud funny. The
entire cast is strong, but Ian McShane is truly majestic as the Machiavellian
brothel owner. Robin Weigert is also quite staggering in her role as
loose-mouthed drunk Calamity Jane. Deadwood
demonstrates that drama works best when driven by its characters, rather than
by contrived circumstances. What is more, Deadwood does not represent the wild
west of conventionalised myth: indeed, the signifier of such a myth (‘Wild
Bill’) is summarily dispatched very early into the first series. What remains
is lawlessness, racial hatred, misogyny, violence, inadequate medical
facilities, mud, and politics. Unglamorous it may be, but that is what makes it
my kind of history.
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