Yellowstone 1883

In this episode, Joe reviews the Dutton family's perilous journey from Texas to Montana, featuring James and Margaret Dutton's leadership, Elsa's tragic story, Shea Brennan's haunted past, and the brutal realities of westward expansion. Special attention to the immigrant experience and period authenticity.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:03):
Calarogus Shark Media. Welcome back to TV in the Basement,
where we dive deep into the hottest shows on television.
I'm your host, Journey Joe Mitchell, and today, folks, we're
saddling up for eighteen eighty three, the Yellowstone prequel that's
tougher than a two dollars stak and more beautiful than
a Montana sunrise. Let me tell you something. If you

(00:25):
thought modern day Ranching and Yellowstone was rough, this show
will make you thank your lucky stars for indoor plumbing.
One eight eighty three inches follows the first generation of Dutton's,
led by James Tim McGraw and Margaret faith Hill, as
they make their way from Texas to Montana, and Folks,
this ain't your kid's Oregon Trail computer game. Nobody's dying

(00:47):
of dysentery off screen here, but the real revelation Isabelle
may As Elsa Dutton, our narrator and guide through this
brutal frontier journey. This young lady delivers a performance that's
more powerful than a winter Rifle and more poetic than
a Shakespeare's Sonnet. Her voiceovers are like honey drizzled over
broken glass. Beautiful and brutal all at once. And then

(01:09):
there's Sam Elliott as Shay Brennan. Folks, if God himself
decided to make a cowboy, he'd probably come up pretty
close to Sam Elliott. The man's got more gravitas than
a black hole and a mustache that deserves its own
zip code. When he's on screen, you can practically smell
the leather and gunpowder. The show opens with a scene
that'll knock you back in your recliner faster than a

(01:30):
mule kick. Without spoiling anything, Let's just say Shay's introduction
is the kind of sequence that reminds you this ain't
going to be little house on the prairie. The Frontier
don't care about your feelings, and neither does this show. Now,
let's talk about Tim McGraw and Faith Hill. When I
heard they were casting country music stars as James and
Margaret Dutton, I was more skeptical than a rattlesnake at

(01:52):
a boot convention. But holy smokes, was I wrong. These
two have chemistry deeper than a Montana gold mine, probably
because they've been married longer than some cowboys have owned
their saddles. The journey itself It's like watching a disaster
movie in slow motion, but with covered wagons instead of cgi.
Every river crossing is a game of Russian Roulette with

(02:13):
Mother Nature. Every encounter with Bandits is a dance with
the devil and the weather. It's trying to kill these
folks harder than any outlaw ever could. What makes one
eight hundred and eighty three inches special is how it
strips away all our romantic notions about the American West
faster than a tornado strip's paint off a barn. You
think cowboys are all John Wayne's swagger and quick draw contests,

(02:36):
try watching someone try to pull a stuck wagon out
of mud that's deeper than a philosopher's thoughts. The show's
about as interested in frontier mythology as a rattlesnake is
in manners. The supporting cast is stronger than camp coffee,
particularly Lamonica Garrett as Thomas, a Buffalo soldier turned Pinkerton agent.
His friendship with Say is the kind of relationship that
makes you believe in humanity again, even as the show's

(02:59):
doing its best to show you humanity at its worst.
And can we talk about the cinematography. Every frame looks
like it could hang in a museum. The landscapes are
so gorgeous they'll make you want a time travel back
to eighteen eighty three until you remember that everything in
this show is trying to kill these people. There's this
one shot of a sunset over the plains that's prettier
than a new saddle on Christmas morning. The show doesn't

(03:22):
shy away from the brutal reality of frontier life. Disease, injury, death.
They're as common as dust on the trail. There's no
convenient commercial breaks when someone needs medical attention, no nearby
hospitals when things go wrong. The reality of nineteen the
century medicine is enough to make you kiss your family
doctor next time you see them. Let's not forget about

(03:44):
the immigrants who make up most of the wagon train.
These folks add a layer of complexity to the American
dream narrative that's as rich as Texas soil. Watching them
face the frontier with nothing but hope and determination is
like watching a master class in human resilience. The attention
to historical detail is finer than a thoroughbred's pedigree, from

(04:05):
the period accurate weapons to the clothing that actually gets
dirty and stays dirty, Everything feels lived in and real.
Even the dialogue avoids those usual Western cliches. Nobody's saying
Pardner every five minutes or spitting tobacco for dramatic effect. Now,
some critics say the show's too dark, too brutal. To them,
I say, have you read a history book lately? The

(04:27):
American Frontier wasn't exactly a church picnic. Oney eight hundred
and eighty three inches is just showing us what our
history books tried to sanitize, and it's doing it with
more style than a peacock at a prairie chicken convention.
The season builds to a conclusion that'll hit you harder
than a Mustang's kick. Without spoiling anything, let's just say
it makes Game of Thrones look like it was playing

(04:48):
paddy Cake with our emotions. The final episode is the
kind of television that stays with you longer than trail
dust on a leather jacket. So what's the verdict on
eighteen eighty three? It's like someone took a ken Burns documentary,
mixed it with Greek tragedy, sprinkled in some Shakespeare, and
served it up with a side of brutal frontier reality.
It's not just great television. It's a reminder of what

(05:11):
our ancestors went through to build this country, for better
or worse. That's all for this extended episode of TV
in the basement. Until next time, keep your powder dry,
your canteen full, and your wagon wheels greased. This is journey.
Joe Mitchell signing off.