“Tulsa King,” the new Paramount+ drama created by Taylor Sheridan and Terence Winter, is too conventional and formulaic to be a truly outstanding series. And yet, it is noteworthy, and strangely compelling, for a couple of reasons.
For one, “Tulsa King” continues the meteoric rise of Sheridan, a writer and director who has quickly become one of the leading television powerhouses of the last decade. Previously known for a supporting role in “Sons of Anarchy,” Sheridan has transformed a handful of well-received neo-Western films into a burgeoning television empire. In addition to his hit flagship series “Yellowstone” and its four spin-offs, Sheridan has built an ever-expanding portfolio of projects and a narrative brand as distinctive as those of household names like Shonda Rhimes and Ryan Murphy.
Creator: Taylor Sheridan
Stars: Sylvester Stallone, Martin Starr, Jay Will
The other fascinating aspect of “Tulsa King” is its star, Sylvester Stallone, who at 76 years old makes his television debut with this series. It’s nothing new for actors best known for past box office hits to reinvent themselves in the prolific world of television. But Stallone is a particular kind of performer, with a post-“Rocky” filmography divided between action franchises full of spectacular set pieces and failed attempts to evolve beyond playing mercenaries like Rambo. Until he won a Golden Globe for his supporting role in “Creed,” Stallone’s basic competence as an actor was the subject of heated debate. He’s not exactly everyone’s favorite actor.
In “Tulsa King,” Stallone plays a role clearly conceived with him in mind, and that makes all the difference. “Tulsa King” is a flawed and clunky attempt, but when the series works, it does so precisely because of Stallone’s charming, albeit characteristically affected, performance. His acting range remains as limited as ever, but he handles it with the precision of a contortionist trapped in a box. “Tulsa King” isn’t a great series with him, but it would be far less interesting without him. Stallone plays Dwight “The General” Manfredi, a New York mobster who has been away from the world of organized crime while serving a 25-year prison sentence. Upon his release, Dwight expects to be welcomed back into the family with a celebration at his favorite gentlemen's club and a montage set to Ace Frehley's "New York Groove." Instead, he's dropped off in Long Island for a tense meeting that makes it clear just how much reorganization has taken place during his long absence.
Chickie (a flamboyantly coiffed Domenick Lombardozzi) tells Dwight there's no longer a place for him in the New York organization. His only option is to accept a new assignment: setting up shop in Oklahoma's second-largest city despite never having set foot there before. In Tulsa, he'll face the dual challenge of figuring out a new business environment while adapting to a world different from the one he left behind. Perhaps there's still a place for old-school gangsters, and Dwight is determined to seize it.
The premise suggests an uphill battle for an aging criminal applying his old-school methods to modern-day corruption. But the pilot episode almost immediately extinguishes that potential by putting Dwight on an easy path. A quarter-century away from the world of crime hasn't dulled Dwight's criminal instincts at all. In fact, after barely a couple of hours in Oklahoma, and still with his luggage in tow, Dwight has already acquired a personal driver (Jay Will) and the first reluctant recruit for his extortion racket. He literally walks into a marijuana dispensary on a whim and, within minutes, has its owner, Bodhi (Martin Starr), under his thumb.
Presumably, Dwight's second act won't always be this easy, but there's little in the two episodes screened for critics to suggest future trouble. The episodes are more interested in profiling Dwight as a criminal antihero with a refined moral code to prevent the audience from turning against him. The pilot gives Dwight opportunities to confront casual racism and punch a bar patron for harassing women, displaying just enough virtue for viewers to know he's a good guy they can root for without guilt.
There isn't even a well-defined antagonist by the end of the two episodes. Sure, there are hints that his pre-prison life is encroaching to complicate his new life. And nothing good can come of his romantic spark with Stacy Beale (Andrea Savage), whose awkward connection to Dwight will be more than obvious to anyone who bothers to think about it for even two seconds. But, at least in the first two episodes, Dwight's only enemy is time and all the ride-sharing apps, TikTok trends, and meme stocks that have sprung up in his absence.
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