Taylor Sheridan’s latest venture, Tulsa King, initially promised a fresh take—featuring Sylvester Stallone as a mafia don retelling the rugged antihero story that made Yellowstone a cultural juggernaut. Sheridan and high-profile talent like Stallone appear once more to deliver the same potent blend of machismo and frontier justice that fans fell for. On paper, Tulsa King has all the ingredients: a star at its center, sprawling landscapes, moral ambiguity, and that inimitable Sheridan touch emphasizing power, loyalty, and family soapcentral.com+15kunr.org+15startefact.com+15wboi.org+1cheatsheet.com+1.
Early praise was swift. Critics compared it to “The Sopranos meets Yellowstone”—that mix of gritty organized crime with midwestern grit and damaged patriarchy felt like a logical extension of Sheridan’s universe latimes.com. And auditions of masculinity—from cattle ranchers to mob bosses—reinforced grooming Sheridan as the king of “old‑man TV,” plugging generational anxieties into compelling protagonists like John Dutton and Dwight Manfredi latimes.com+6vox.com+6screenrant.com+6.
Yet beneath the cinematic veneer, faults familiar to Yellowstone‘s later seasons quickly re-emerged. Critics, such as at Screenrant, identified a core issue: both shows fetishize antiheroes without reconciling their darker impulses—glorifying their crimes while withholding true moral reckoning startefact.com+6screenrant.com+6screenrant.com+6. Indeed, John Dutton’s increasingly villainous actions went unpunished on-camera, and Stallone’s Dwight echoes that same flaw—an unaccountable alpha whose evil is excused by his charisma wboi.org+6screenrant.com+6screenrant.com+6.
On the tonal side, Tulsa King veers into comedic territory. Reviews praised its occasional levity but argued it contrasts sharply with Yellowstone’s dramatic weight. Polygon described Tulsa King as “relaxed masculinity” rather than the intense moral gravity of Sheridan’s western dramas startefact.com+15polygon.com+15en.wikipedia.org+15. That jazzy shift may attract new viewers, yet it dilutes the thematic depth that made Yellowstone resonate so strongly.
Audience feedback—especially on Reddit—echoes this tension. Some viewers appreciated the genre mash-up, while others found it too light and lacking genuine consequence. One Redditor warned that Sheridan’s shows appear “spellbind the audience but rarely follow through on stakes” reddit.com+15reddit.com+15screenrant.com+15, citing “Hallmark‑tier writing” in Yellowstone‘s later arcs. Meanwhile, critiques labeled Tulsa King’s authenticity limited: “fish‑out‑of‑water” jokes undermined its potential last Western edge reddit.com+15polygon.com+15cheatsheet.com+15.
Furthermore, Tulsa King reflects yet another signature of Sheridan’s expanding empire: frequent creative bloat. El País noted Sheridan’s rapid expansion across multiple series—1883, 1923, Mayor of Kingstown, Tulsa King, and more—leading to uneven quality and inconsistent tone across the “Sheridanverse” elpais.com+1denofgeek.com+1. Critics argue that while Sheridan’s blueprints remain powerful, continuous volume sacrifices narrative focus—resulting in protagonists who act with impunity, underpinned by dramatic infrastructures that lean repetitive.
Despite these criticisms, the shows remain ratings powerhouses. Tulsa King’s Season 1 boasted record viewership for Paramount+, and network ratings continue strong en.wikipedia.org. But sustaining this momentum requires addressing the franchise’s growing addiction to lethal patriarchs rather than evolving them with real internal conflict.
Ultimately, the “unseen trap” in Tulsa King is that it replicates Yellowstone’s gilded downfall: reinforcing Sheridan’s proven formula—masculine leads, sprawling landscapes—but failing to innovate them meaningfully. Sheridan’s ambition to combine Western grit with mob-caper comedy flirts with genius, but risks descending into pastiche without serious dramatic stakes and moral payoff.
The question now is whether Tulsa King will break free from the pattern. Can Sheridan recalibrate his storytelling—reining in idolization of antiheroes, introducing genuine consequences, integrating tonal variety without losing dramatic backbone? Or are we witnessing the franchise’s decline as the pattern repeats across multiple platforms?
Like Yellowstone, Tulsa King captivates through atmosphere, star power, and old‑school masculinity. But when that mystique overshadows accountability and thematic evolution, the trap snaps—and viewers might start craving depth over drama.
