The HBO western's third - and final - season makes it to DVD, and the writing and language is as stinging as ever. Expect action, resolution, and payoff.
The HBO Series “Deadwood” has been far and away the most unique Western ever to appear on American television, right up there with “Lonesome Dove.” The tale is rooted in the colorful history of the Black Hills of South Dakota, with many of the characters fashioned after the motley crew that actually defined and embodied that history, some well known - like Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane - and many others who were not. I enjoyed all three seasons, but I like the third season the most. That is a statement many critics would disagree with, but I beg to differ.
The third season's writing is sharper, clearer, and more to the point, yet as pungent as ever, sprinkled liberally with the F-word and other decorative obscenities which, as in the previous two seasons, are combined with a quasi-Elizabethan lingo and other verbal somersaults of bizarre invention. The permutations and daring of the language are always half the fun. Like in “West Wing,” the rhythm of the language is a major feature of the pleasure of watching the show. There's also so many taglines - I could easily fill two pages with sparkling examples. One of my favorites is spoken by Silas Adams, one of Al Swearengen’s entourage, about Al: “When Al isn’t lying, he’s one of the most honorable men I have ever met.”
But the feature of the third season that I like most has to do with the reconciliation between Swearengen (Ian McShane) and Sheriff Seth Bullock (Tim Olyphant) for the good of the community. This is their response to the brutal invasion of that growing community by George Hearst (Gerald McRaney), a power-hungry Robber Baron who will stop at nothing to get what he covets. His arrival on the scene forces the two men to put aside their previous differences - which are considerable - to come together, with other allies, to offset the nasty maneuverings of Hearst and his cadre of hired cutthroats, including men from the Pinkerton Agency, who do his bidding with no moral considerations. Hearst is so rich, he always expects to get his way, and when the opposition is stubborn or heroic, he simply eliminates them. He orders people killed like a man brushing away flies. Given the greed and lust for autocratic power in Hearst, the locals come to the realization that they have to join forces or go under his juggernaut, and they have too much invested in the community to allow that to happen. And the battle between the two sides becomes savage, with even the ‘good guys’ stooping to dastardly deeds to save “The Camp,” which is turning into a real community rather than remaining an outpost of anarchy and violence. Even the whore called Trixie (Paula Malcomson) gets into the act when single-handedly, in a fit of anger, she attempts to kill Hearst. She arrives at his hotel door bare-breasted - no doubt to divert his attention - and when he opens it she shoots him with her derringer. Doing it bare-breasted was a nice touch, worthy of Sam Peckinpah; it's the kind of flair the series has always exhibited. Trixie’s anger and the limits to which she is willing to go to protect her friends and the community is typical of the extremes they are willing to reach to cut off Hearst’s ambitions. (Incidentally, George Hearst was the father of William Randolph Hearst, who was fourteen years old when his father was terrorizing the citizens of Deadwood in 1877.)
Two new characters are introduced in the third season who contribute significantly to the pleasure of watching this chapter of the story. Both are based on real people; photographs of both appear in the bonus features. One is an old acquaintance of Al Swearengen, a theatrical impresario and Irish immigrant by the name of Jack Lengrishe (Brian Cox). He is the leader of a troupe of nomadic actors looking for a place to settle down in and they have decided, after being there a while, that Deadwood is where they will drop anchor. They purchase a schoolhouse and converte it to a theater, which (in history) flourished for two decades. It did well because, besides whoring, gambling, and drinking, there was a paucity of a more elevated form of entertainment in Deadwood. The local population even took to the plays of Shakespeare, which was a bit surprising in a rough and tumble town like Deadwood. Brian Cox gives a spirited and comic performance as Lengrishe. He adds some levity to the proceedings. He uses a language befitting a 19th century Shakespearian actor, and struts around in, if you will, The Grand Manner. The other new character is Hearst’s African-American cook from back in Missouri, who is very loyal to the Robber Baron until he hurts her son. She has a bubbly, amusing personality. Wyatt and Morgan Earp also make an appearance, but they do very little. I suspect Milch had plans for them in the fourth season, but there isn’t going to be one, although there is talk about HBO allowing Milch to do a pair of two hour movies to bring the Story of Deadwood to a proper close.
I found the political wrangling of season two tedious and boring. In season three there is more than just talk: there is action, resolution, and a payoff. Not only do the farsighted people settle their differences for the common good, there is a campaign for office, an election, and the locals fight Hearst tooth and nail. It is the American experience of the late 19th century in the raw, as the West is opening and being domesticated. Indeed, it could be said that the main theme of "Deadwood"'s third season is the community itself. It is about the Robber Baron versus the people who embrace democratic and communitarian ideals, who seek to bring “The Camp” out of its vulgar, primitive, and anarchic stage to one where schools replace the brothels, churches are built next to the bank, and the theater takes the place of too many saloons. It is not going to be a place for one-man rule or ownership. Deadwood is changing from an undeveloped aggregate of men and women where the motto is anything goes, to a frontier town in a developing nation. In 1889, South Dakota became a state.
The bonus material is worth a look, not only for all the photographs, but also for the information about the town and the characters portrayed. At its peak “Deadwood Gulch,” its original name when it was barbarous and untamed and averaged one murder a day, had a population of 10,000. Ninety percent of the women were prostitutes. Today only 1380 people live there. Deadwood is a monument to the past, to the time when the Wild West was being tamed, a place where Wild Bill Hickok was assassinated and Calamity Jane found out she had lesbian tendencies.
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