By Dan Jardine
Deadwood, beyond being the most complex, well-written, designed and acted show on television, presents a portrayal of the business of America (which, as Coolidge once so accurately noted, is business) as vicious and unforgiving as it is astute. But for all its nastiness and cruelty, Deadwood is also among the funniest shows on the tube. Whether it’s Johnny’s recurrent bumbling, E.B.’s bon mots (“the camp pugilist”), or Al’s bang-on impersonation of E.B., each Deadwood episode presents several opportunities to guffaw and chortle, allowing the audience to catch its breath, gird its loins and prepare for battle. And yet, have you ever wondered how the show would translate if it were filmed before a live studio audience? Suddenly, disturbingly, what was delicious and subversive becomes, well, this. Thank your lucky stars, I say.
On the only slightly more serious side, over on the HBO Deadwood boards, one of the most interesting participants has been cast member W. Earl Brown (Dan Dority), whose latest posts you can see under the moniker BigEarlB, all lined in a pretty row here. Fans know that he’s been a creative force in developing storylines and writing for the show; in his latest series of posts Brown discusses, among many other things, the meat and potatoes of the big brawl with Hearst’s leviathanic capo. He proves to be not only whip-smart, but disarmingly forthright as well, admitting that his first question about his nekkid scene, post-battle royale, had to do with the perceived size of his Johnson. Trust me, this actor also has a lotta other serious material in his repertoire as well (check out his latest on the dangers inherent in any form of religious fundamentalism); a few minutes in Brown’s company is time well spent.
Others have written about Deadwood as a show about the innate urge to form social bonds, bringing with it the inevitable domestication of humanity. And yet there is something more biting and edgy about this entry by Uberdionysis, in which the anarchist-leaning author, drawing analogies to pre-Franco Spain, bemoans the loss of possibility that was Deadwood. The naturalism running through this analysis seems a little early 20th century, but it’s worth a gander nonetheless. 
And now for something completely different: Deadwood’s knack for painting multi-layered portraits of evil is an aspect that elevates it above all but a handful of current series. The sophisticated development of Al Swearengen, the brooding deviance of Cy Tolliver, the bloody terror of Francis Wolcott, the clinical sociopathy of George Hearst, even the socially responsible psychopathology of Seth Bullock, all are keen examples that the makers of Deadwood understand the importance of nuance. Lonnie Harris’s article at Flak Magazine does a good job of putting this element of the show into an artistic, cultural and historical context.
Lastly, yer humble narrator has himself weighed in on Deadwood. Ben Livant and I have had a pair of dialogues about the first two seasons, and if you are so inclined you can study them at your leisure here and here.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Big Earl, Franco and a live studio audience: a bushel of Deadwood links
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12 comments:
I like Brown's comment on HBO and its cancellation of Deadwood:
When Babe Ruth retired, the Yankees didn't dump Lou Gehrig.
Well said.
I'll really miss this show.
My favorite link in the lineup is Dan Jardine and Ben's Livant's dialogue about the first two seasons of Deadwood, which includes this keeper from Ben:
"The artistic problem with the profanity, however, is that Milch consistently embeds it in simply gorgeous syntax and often accompanies it with some sophistocated vocabulary too. This is having your cake and eating it too. Milch waves the realism flag in defense of the cussing but the truth is very few of the people in 1876 Deadwood would have been so interesting to hear speak. Understatement. The fact of the matter is, with only occasional exceptions, folks who cannot express themselves without swearing that much tend not to be so articulate, verbally competent, linguistically engaging, call it what you will, they have not been given the gift of the gab. The constant and unrelenting employment of profanity is, indeed, a textbook sign of the poverty of language, usually a feature of those in economic and educational poverty, although not necessarily. Deadwood is nothing if not an exercise in poetic licence. This is the best part of the show. But there is too much swearing. And you fucking know I am offering this critique intellectually and not cock-fucking-sucking prudishly."
Thanks, Matt. And Ben thanks you, I'm sure. Though you'll notice Ben never made any attempt to deny his limber-dicked-ness.
Liked the Flak article and was rather taken by the analysis by Uberdionysius, clever cocksuckers that they are. Someone might want to mention to Lonnie though that Deadwood isn't in Wyoming...
Dan, appreciate very much your insights into one of the best television shows since . ... forever, and the great, great links you gathered.
But, Seth Bullock a psychopath? Whose definition of psychopathology are you using? Can you explain?
Well, he's a borderline case I admit, but he's one scary cocksucker, no? I mean, when he loses it, anybody within a six mile radius could get beaten like a musty rug. "The camp pugilist" indeed. He's Mike Tyson without the sibilance. Guess that makes Martha Robin Givens, eh?
Well, a psychopath has no conscience; he feels no remorse. Neither of those things are true about Bulluck. Yeah, definitely he can be a scary cocksucker. But his rage comes from a human place. He is confused and obviously deeply flawed, but his flaws come in part from an almost tragic need to do good. It's more complicated than that, certainly, but my point is that he is not evil. He is not sadistic, he is not narcisssistic in the true sense of the word, he is not driven by an obsessive need to completely control others -- he is not a psychopath.
Well, as usual, I exaggerate to make my point. I don't think Bullock is ever very far away from your very diagnosis, however. I believe he struggles to stay on the straight and narrow, and sometimes has to be reminded that he's a human being, whether by Sol, Martha, or even Al, of all people.
Yes, even Al, of all people! It's fascinating, isn't it?
Hi Dan. For the last several weeks, I've been reading Seitz's analysis of Deadwood and have loved it. Imagine my happy surprise to find my quick thoughts linked here!
I tried to say that Deadwood is a rebuke to anarchist dreams, specifically libertarian (anarco-capitalist) and anarcho-communist ideals. When the 'town elders' get together to form a government they laugh that the whole function of their organization is to "take people's money" and not "to provide services." But what libertarians (and anarcho-communists) miss is that those organizations are necessary in order to keep the outside opportunists from fucking over everyone in Deadwood. The Deadwood leaders are not officially ordained, but they are a necessary evil that thwarts a much larger threat (Yankton and Hearst).
The third season, specifically, is a nasty rebuke to libertarian notions that a group of people can exist without organization (which, according to anarchists, is based in force). The town needs to form hierarchies so that they can survive against an enemy who can and will destroy them all (Hearst, S. Dakota, potentially Montana and the larger U.S. government). Likewise, it's a rebuke to anarchists in that the greed and individual initiatives of everyone in the town precludes any utopian ideas of existing without force or organization.
Well, I think the entire series, not just season 3, is a rebuke to anyone who thinks people can operate without belonging to a larger society. Without such organization, life becomes, in the words of Thomas Hobbes, nasty, brutish and short. The question really is, what form does this organization take?
In Deadwood, Al and Hearst share a similarity of vision w/r/t that organization. Both believe in an essentially fascist regime, strong-armed rule by an elite. The main difference is Al attempts to draw the camp leaders into his schemes, whereas Hearst makes no such concession. He's an old school strong-armed dictator, who wants to bend the entire camp to his will. This is also his weakness, which Al exploits as best he can by attempting to align the camp against Hearst. In the process, I think Al has changed some as a character, become more humane and generous, but in the end, he's still a steely-eyed cocksucker whose main purpose is to advance his interests. He just has more modest goals than Hearst.
Exactly.
What Al objects to in the beginning of this season is how out of proportion Hearst's ambitions are. There's no practicality to Hearst running the camp as if it was his. Al claimed something like, "It's out of proportion!"
What offends Al is the scope of Hearst's control - Al built the Gem, so all who come inside are under his domain. But Hearst acts as if he built the world, and Hearst believes that the world was built for him (considering his 'special powers' that even the Natives see).
Lastly, Deadwood did work without laws, but I don't think it's the type of place most anarchists and libertarians have in mind when they imagine their perfect society. Only people like Al, Bullock and Wild Bill can prosper in places like that.
What's funny is how Al figures out how to prosper in a society that is becoming civilized and 'lawful.' Bullock has a harder time, and Will Bill... well... he goes the way of legends and Al's Indian head.
It's depressing that we'll never see another full season.
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