TV Talk: ‘Landman’ marks Taylor Sheridan’s best series yet

"Landman," streaming Sunday on Paramount+, is Taylor Sheridan's best series yet. It's even more entertaining than "Yellowstone."

Partly that's the perfect match of actor and material — Billy Bob Thornton was born to play oil company fixer Tommy Norris. But it's also the subject matter — West Texas oil, but more centered on the roughneck workers, not the boardroom like on "Dallas" — the stakes and the show's depiction of family.

This is a TV-MA-rated show to be sure with F-bombs galore and a sassy comeback from Norris' daughter (Michelle Randolph) that is not fit for print in a family newspaper. While the first hour can be over-the-top — an oil truck doesn't just crash into a private plane, killing people, but also claims the life of an enormous snake, seems severed in half on the roadway — darn if it doesn't keep viewers' attention.

The premiere begins with Tommy tied to a chair with a bag over his head, held captive by drug dealers who aren't keen on taking a deal that allows Tommy's company to build roads and dig oil wells on land that the company already owns the mineral rights to.

Tommy was sent to negotiate a lease and threatens that a DEA substation will be built nearby if the cartel doesn't comply. He even offers to pay for damages from the roads and oil pumps. The lead drug dealer says that overly generous offer makes oil "a strange business."

"You sell a product your customers are dependent on," Tommy says. "Ours is the same, just bigger."

"Landman" finds Sheridan, who co-created the series and wrote and directed the first episode, seemingly in his Aaron Sorkin era, giving Tommy voiceover narration that sets up the show's stakes without sounding too much like exposition. It's more facts-is-facts, courtesy of the Texas Monthly podcast, "Boomtown," that inspired "Landman."

Tommy's says his job securing land is easy; managing workers, police, press — that's what "can get you killed." The first episode explores those dangers through Tommy and his son, Cooper (Jacob Lofland), a newbie roughneck who's razzed for ordering a latte at a coffee stand.

Tommy's other headaches include his ex-wife Angela (Ali Larter), and his shallow teen daughter.

While "Landman" primarily plays as a scripted series version of the "Dirty Jobs" docu-series craze from a decade ago, the show isn't all about Tommy's multiple job-inducing headaches, which includes sharing bad news with his oil company tycoon boss (Jon Hamm, back in "Mad Men" suit mode). The family element, particularly Tommy's relationship with his daughter, plays just as strong a role in the show.

In a virtual press conference last month, Thornton said Sheridan warned him that "Landman" may be vilified by viewers on the coasts but the rest of the country will love it. Thornton disagrees with that assertion.

"It's not a show about how wonderful the oil business is," he said. "It just tells you the story: This is how it works. .... I actually have a scene where (my character is) talking about how, 'We don't do this because we like it, we do it because there's no alternative right now.' When they start making it possible to run all the machinery and vehicles on water, probably the oil guys will get into the water business."

'Cross'

Elements of Amazon Prime Video's "Cross" make it stand out, but those positive attributes often get canceled out by predictable, unseemly scenes of violence against women.

Now streaming all eight first-season episodes, the show is based on characters from author James Patterson's book series. Aldis Hodge ("Leverage") stars as Alex Cross, a Washington, D.C., homicide detective whose wife dies in the show's opening scene. The mystery around who murdered her is a running plot through the first season.

A year after his wife's murder, Cross is about to take a leave of absence when the murder of a Black activist roils the city and the white police chief insists Cross join her at a press conference. Cross says he won't be a "publicity stunt when you want some dark-skinned cover."

That's an interesting, different take. As is Cross' defense of the police when a fellow dinner party guest says, "I don't understand how a Black man can be a cop these days. I'd feel like I was selling out my own people."

Exploring Cross' character and how he's situated in today's post-George Floyd environment offers a smart, novel approach to a crime drama.

But too much of the show follows the villain (Ryan Eggold), who's unmasked early, and his flunky. Both men torture women in episode two in disturbing sequences. That's less interesting and more likely to turn off viewers.

'Hot Frosty'

Beyond the kooky concept – Lacey Chabert accepts without question that a hunky snowman (Dustin Milligan, "Schitt's Creek") has magically come to life – there's really nothing new of note in Netflix's "Hot Frosty," now streaming.

Milligan runs around shirtless, muscles bulging, but the plot is pure Hallmark Christmas movie drivel with a more comedic bent (including a "Mean Girls" meta joke). Watch the trailer, get a laugh and move on.