HBO's "Deadwood" - A Consideration ...
by Eric Shapiro - Spring Semester 2011 - Goldsmiths University
David Milch’s Deadwood, which aired on HBO from March 2004 - August 2006 is much more than a TV Western. While it utilizes the standard tropes of the Western genre up to a point, it is also an exploration of the forces that, for better and worse, fundamentally altered what we now refer to as the frontier. Eric Raunchaway, author of Blessed among Nations, gave his impression of the show’s narrative arc: “There's an overall story arc of the transition from wilderness to civilization, and the major plot lines have to do with the circumstances under which civic institutions evolve. But it's not Frederick Jackson Turner's frontier – or if it is, it's a decidedly modified Turner.” This description could not be more apt; while many of the show’s characters do indeed embody the distinctly American values (particularly rugged individualism and a distrust of authority) Turner associated with the frontier, Milch’s Deadwood paints a decidedly less rosy picture. The characters that match Turner’s idolatrous description are dragged through the dirt over the course of the series, exposing noble intentions in the most amoral villains and far from admirable traits in the supposed heroes. Their goals are never, as Turner claims, to civilize themselves. When they do establish a semblance of civilization, it is out of necessity more than anything else.
While the show is not epic in sweep, taking place almost exclusively in the small town of Deadwood, South Dakota, the setting functions as a microcosm of the different factions, institutions and individuals that comprised the fabric of the Frontier. Deadwood does not capture the West in its glory days; rather, it takes place on the precipice of the late 19th century, when the scent of imminent change blew on the dusty wind. This essay will focus on several of the show’s key characters, exploring how certain inherent traits impact their ability to thrive as the aforementioned change comes to Deadwood.
The traits that served Wild Bill Hickock so well in the past – fierce independence, disregard for authority, quick recourse to violence – are no longer sufficient. To be sure, other characters possess similar characteristics, but they are tempered with a realistic sense of what is possible given the gradual encroachment of business interests and political intrigue in Deadwood. The changing times require a different, more pragmatic approach; Wild Bill’s failure to adapt his mindset to this reality plays a role in his death.
Through his depiction of Wild Bill Hickock, Milch takes the archetype of the old Western gunslinger and drags it down to earth. When he arrives in Deadwood, it is immediately clear that the once-great man is a shadow of his former self. While still respected and feared, he has abandoned his role as full-time peacekeeper to acquire sufficient funds to send for his wife. One would not expect this to be a problem for someone of his stature.
However, lacking the opportunistic cunning of Al Swearengen or the flexibility and entrepreneurial spirit of Seth Bullock and Saul Star, Wild Bill Hickock’s only recourse in Deadwood is gambling. In spite of his fame, he is something of a pathetic figure, a walking relic who perceives that his time is almost up. Milch indicates as much in his script for Deadwood’s pilot, describing the character’s demeanor when he first arrives in town: “Hickock, in near-foppish finery, leans against the wall… As when he was seen reclining in the wagon, the absence of expression in his features suggests a corpse in state, or a figure in a wax museum.”
It is conceivable that, even lacking any skills that lend themselves to long-term employment on the frontier, Wild Bill’s reputation provided him with many unique opportunities to generate income. His pride, however, prevents him from taking advantage of any such opportunities. For example, Hickock’s stalwart companion and friend Charlie Utter proposes charging an “appearance fee” for Wild Bill to gamble at certain establishments, surmising that the gunslinger’s celebrity will attract additional clientele. Wild Bill does not take kindly to the suggestion, bluntly telling Utter: [quote] On another occasion, an enterprising (albeit irritating) townsman raises the possibility of holding a for-profit gun show in which he would charge attendees for entry and sell the icon’s spent bullet casings. Wild Bill also rejects this proposition. Although his unwillingness to whore out his reputation for money is admirable, it leaves him with no alternative but gambling, a fickle pursuit at which he does not possess an affinity.
By the time he is shot in the back of the head and killed at the card table by drunken lowlife Jack McCall, the legend that was Wild Bill Hickock has already faded. His lingering reputation is enough to provide a faint tinge of law and order in Deadwood, but it also makes him the target of ire on the part of many a resident. Al Swearengen even seriously considers having him assassinated in order to ensure against interference in his criminal enterprises. Thus, Milch implies that the gunslinger would have met a similar fate regardless of whether he crossed paths with Jack McCall.
In the end, Wild Bill’s unceremonious and undignified demise comes across not so much as the toppling of a great figure, but the inevitable extinction of an old archetype that has become an anachronism. His death represents the twilight of an era. It is clear that the changing nature of the West will necessitate a new kind of lawman more in line with the times, one who is willing to compromise to ensure the long-term interest of his community.
Seth Bullock is the most obvious choice to fill this role. His immediate connection with the lawman suggests a similar commitment to honor and justice. However, he also possesses a key trait that renders him a more effective arbiter of law and order than his late friend. First, his initial commitment to running a hardware business with his partner, Austrian-Jewish merchant Sol Starr, shows a certain entrepreneurial spirit that Wild Bill lacked. Dismayed over his friend’s descent into drinking and gambling, Charlie Utter tells Bullock: “You got some of Bill’s qualities, but then you got something he’s missing… You get along in the world. Turn a dollar. Look out for yourself… He don’t know how to do it.” Again, this evinces a sense of ambition and practicality absent in Wild Bill, one that foreshadows Bullock’s role in Deadwood later on in the series.
In Season 1 and the first half of Season 2, Bullock’s staunch principles and willfulness place him at loggerheads with Swearengen. At first, the two men appear to be polar opposites. Bullock seems to embody law, order and morality. Swearengen, on the other hand, is ostensibly amoral, unconcerned with the law and brutal in pursuit of his interests. Bullock expresses an immediate dislike for the saloonkeeper. Upon their first meeting, the script reads: “A beat, then a compelling antagonism toward Swearengen beyond will, logic, justice or justice or injustice asserts itself in Bullock” (). Viewers are led to believe early on in the series that Bullock and Swearengen will be nemeses, the former a clear-cut paragon of justice and virtue, the latter a dastardly villain absolutely committed to evil. However, Deadwood is not a John Wayne movie, and it soon becomes clear that the truth is far more complicated.
As Deadwood progresses and it characters develop, Bullock’s distinction as the clear-cut “hero” of the show progressively evaporates. Although his intentions are honorable and his commitment to justice is sincere, he also has a volatile demeanor and is prone to violent outbursts that end in the object of his rage being seriously injured. It is not for nothing that Swearengen asks Bullock: “are you a cunt driven by maniac or a stalwart driven by principle?” (Episode 20). Bullock himself clearly doesn’t know the answer to this question, lamenting to Star: (insert quote). Bullock, “the hero,” is at times more horrifying than Swearengen because it impossible to predict when he will lose control and beat someone to death.
In Season 1 and the beginning of Season 2, when Deadwood is on the cusp of change but the transformation has not yet began in earnest, Bullock’s positive qualities outshine his negative ones and he is an asset to the town. Without the external interference of corporate and political interests, Deadwood’s main conflicts are internal ones, posing existential threats to the show’s characters but having a negligible effect on the future of the town as a whole. Most of these conflicts derive from Swearengen’s seemingly amoral, social Darwinist (although he would not use such a scholarly term) perspective, which leaves him with no compunction against cheating, brutalizing and murdering innocent people to achieve his commercial ends. Swearengen’s “dark side” is on full display throughout Season 1. For example, he enters into a collusion to sell an ostensibly dried-up gold claim to Brom Garrett, a new arrival to the town with no knowledge of prospecting. When the man protests being ripped off and threatens legal action, Swearengen has him murdered. When he finds out that the gold claim he sold was, in fact, rich with gold, he attempts to slip Garrett’s widow Alma heroin so that she will be more pliable and likely to sell back the claim. Some other detestable actions include nearly choking a prostitute in his employ for defending herself against a customer, trying to have a little girl killed for witnessing the murder of her family at the hands of his associates and drowning a heroin addict in a bath tub.
As appalling as Swearengen’s actions often are, he differs from the show’s other “villains” in that he derives no sadistic joy or satisfaction from inflicting harm on others, only resorting to violence when he feels it is necessary to advance his commercial interests. It becomes apparent in Season 2 that he is even willing to subordinate these interests for the benefit of Deadwood as whole.
Swearengen possesses a certain code of ethics (as distinct from morality) built around independence, rugged individualism, self-sufficiency and entrepreneurship. These are, true or not, considered distinctly American values. His life is also reminiscent of the Horatio Alger story that attracted so many to the New World and, subsequently, to the West. After emigrating from England as a young orphan boy, he worked his way up to a position of modest wealth and authority. From these lowly beginnings, he eventually went on to establish The Gem in Deadwood, a successful saloon that also serves as a base of operations for his various enterprises (some of them criminal). His strong, commanding personality and pragmatic cunning make him the de facto leader of Deadwood, hated by some, liked by others, and respected by all.
Bullock’s value to Deadwoodlies not in his typical qualities of a Western lawman – which, if anything, often prove liabilities – but in his capacity to bend his strict code of ethics and commitment to justice when doing so clearly serves the interest of the town. When an untimely bout of kidney stones put Swearengen out of commission, geologist Francis Walcott manages to lay the foundation for the town’s acquisition by mining baron George Hearst. Enlisting Yankton officials and several of the town’s residents (including Cy Tolliver and E.B. Farnum), Walcott convinces the miners to sell their gold claims by spreading rumors that Deadwood is to be annexed and all mining claims invalidated. Bullock, distracted by personal matter and his duties as sheriff, does not uncover the conspiracy. When he passes his kidney stones and realizes what has transpired, Swearengen tellingly chides Bullock: “Bedridden I know more than you.” For all his lawman’s abilities, Bullock does not have the keen political intellect of Swearengen and is therefore unable to influence the larger events affecting the town.
This is not to say that Bullock is useless, but merely that he needs someone with more political savvy to direct him. Swearengen subsequently enlists Bullock’s aid in getting Deadwood annexed to Montana via the sheriff’s connections from his time as a lawman in that state. Furthermore, he explains that Bullock is the perfect person to represent Deadwood in its bid for legitimacy: “you do make a good appearance, so they’re prone to grant you their trust, which we will use as an asset in the coming campaign” (episode 20).
Unlike Wild Bill Hickock, Bullock adjusts to the demands of Deadwood’s current trajectory. Defying his stubborn, borderline pathological need to see even the most minor crimes punished with violence, Bullock rescues a Yankton politician who has disingenuously threatened to invalidate a mob of angry miners’ gold claims so that they will panic and sell them to Hearst. By letting a guilty man walk, Bullock also effectively spares his former nemesis, Swearengen, the blame for the man’s murder. Swearengen muses: “Impresses me that Bullock… avoided putting his pet interests: innocence, guilt, fucking who did what to fuckin’ who before the needs of the fuckin’ camp. Shows fuckin’ progress; show’s growin’ maturity to what makes the worlds fuckin’ tail wag” (episode 19). In other words, Bullock is learning to play the game, setting aside his own gratification for the long-term prospects of Deadwood, which could not survive if Swearengen were jailed for the Yankton politician’s murder.
Paradoxically, Deadwood’s annexation to another state, at this point in its history, will serve as a way of preserving rather than losing a degree of independence. Faced with the threat of Hearst’s mining empire, the town’s key figures realize that forming a legitimate government as part of a state will provide them with limited protection against the business interests threatening to usurp all local authority. Bullock and Swearengen must put aside their personal antipathy towards one another for the larger good of the town.
Ever the keen businessman, Swearengen understands that a Deadwood under Hearst’s thumb will be infinitely less profitable than one with some semblance of independence. A man like George Hearst is unwilling to share power or compromise and would certainly not allow Swearengen to maintain his status as a self-made, uninhibited businessman. In a metamorphosis of Frederick Jackson Turner’s notion of the West as a cradle of American values, the town of Deadwood adopts democracy and civilization in response to the threat of a robber baron. As the state of Deadwood before Hearst’s arrival shows, neither the roughness of the frontier and the promise of starting over are enough to civilize people, nor transform them into Americans.
Instead, the conditions of the West, as represented in Deadwood, only establish the foundation for a peculiarly American civilization, providing the “raw materials” by fostering certain values and laying the framework of institutions that could one day become government. However, without an impetus for transformation, Western towns like Deadwood are far from Turner’s idealized vision. Rather, it is the threat of losing the independence that the town’s citizens have become so accustomed to that forces its most prudent members to build the raw promise of Western values into a civilized, American whole.
Deadwood posits over the course of its three seasons that the ideal architects of this society are not the same individuals that gave the West its mythical status in American history. Swearengen’s prudence and quick thinking, not Wild Bill’s impulsiveness and quick draw, are the key to confronting the challenge of independence-stifling robber baron control. Principled flexibility, not principles alone, is the key ingredient to remain relevant, as Bullock’s character progression demonstrates.
David Milch’s Deadwood, which aired on HBO from March 2004 - August 2006 is much more than a TV Western. While it utilizes the standard tropes of the Western genre up to a point, it is also an exploration of the forces that, for better and worse, fundamentally altered what we now refer to as the frontier. Eric Raunchaway, author of Blessed among Nations, gave his impression of the show’s narrative arc: “There's an overall story arc of the transition from wilderness to civilization, and the major plot lines have to do with the circumstances under which civic institutions evolve. But it's not Frederick Jackson Turner's frontier – or if it is, it's a decidedly modified Turner.” This description could not be more apt; while many of the show’s characters do indeed embody the distinctly American values (particularly rugged individualism and a distrust of authority) Turner associated with the frontier, Milch’s Deadwood paints a decidedly less rosy picture. The characters that match Turner’s idolatrous description are dragged through the dirt over the course of the series, exposing noble intentions in the most amoral villains and far from admirable traits in the supposed heroes. Their goals are never, as Turner claims, to civilize themselves. When they do establish a semblance of civilization, it is out of necessity more than anything else.
While the show is not epic in sweep, taking place almost exclusively in the small town of Deadwood, South Dakota, the setting functions as a microcosm of the different factions, institutions and individuals that comprised the fabric of the Frontier. Deadwood does not capture the West in its glory days; rather, it takes place on the precipice of the late 19th century, when the scent of imminent change blew on the dusty wind. This essay will focus on several of the show’s key characters, exploring how certain inherent traits impact their ability to thrive as the aforementioned change comes to Deadwood.
The traits that served Wild Bill Hickock so well in the past – fierce independence, disregard for authority, quick recourse to violence – are no longer sufficient. To be sure, other characters possess similar characteristics, but they are tempered with a realistic sense of what is possible given the gradual encroachment of business interests and political intrigue in Deadwood. The changing times require a different, more pragmatic approach; Wild Bill’s failure to adapt his mindset to this reality plays a role in his death.
Through his depiction of Wild Bill Hickock, Milch takes the archetype of the old Western gunslinger and drags it down to earth. When he arrives in Deadwood, it is immediately clear that the once-great man is a shadow of his former self. While still respected and feared, he has abandoned his role as full-time peacekeeper to acquire sufficient funds to send for his wife. One would not expect this to be a problem for someone of his stature.
However, lacking the opportunistic cunning of Al Swearengen or the flexibility and entrepreneurial spirit of Seth Bullock and Saul Star, Wild Bill Hickock’s only recourse in Deadwood is gambling. In spite of his fame, he is something of a pathetic figure, a walking relic who perceives that his time is almost up. Milch indicates as much in his script for Deadwood’s pilot, describing the character’s demeanor when he first arrives in town: “Hickock, in near-foppish finery, leans against the wall… As when he was seen reclining in the wagon, the absence of expression in his features suggests a corpse in state, or a figure in a wax museum.”
It is conceivable that, even lacking any skills that lend themselves to long-term employment on the frontier, Wild Bill’s reputation provided him with many unique opportunities to generate income. His pride, however, prevents him from taking advantage of any such opportunities. For example, Hickock’s stalwart companion and friend Charlie Utter proposes charging an “appearance fee” for Wild Bill to gamble at certain establishments, surmising that the gunslinger’s celebrity will attract additional clientele. Wild Bill does not take kindly to the suggestion, bluntly telling Utter: [quote] On another occasion, an enterprising (albeit irritating) townsman raises the possibility of holding a for-profit gun show in which he would charge attendees for entry and sell the icon’s spent bullet casings. Wild Bill also rejects this proposition. Although his unwillingness to whore out his reputation for money is admirable, it leaves him with no alternative but gambling, a fickle pursuit at which he does not possess an affinity.
By the time he is shot in the back of the head and killed at the card table by drunken lowlife Jack McCall, the legend that was Wild Bill Hickock has already faded. His lingering reputation is enough to provide a faint tinge of law and order in Deadwood, but it also makes him the target of ire on the part of many a resident. Al Swearengen even seriously considers having him assassinated in order to ensure against interference in his criminal enterprises. Thus, Milch implies that the gunslinger would have met a similar fate regardless of whether he crossed paths with Jack McCall.
In the end, Wild Bill’s unceremonious and undignified demise comes across not so much as the toppling of a great figure, but the inevitable extinction of an old archetype that has become an anachronism. His death represents the twilight of an era. It is clear that the changing nature of the West will necessitate a new kind of lawman more in line with the times, one who is willing to compromise to ensure the long-term interest of his community.
Seth Bullock is the most obvious choice to fill this role. His immediate connection with the lawman suggests a similar commitment to honor and justice. However, he also possesses a key trait that renders him a more effective arbiter of law and order than his late friend. First, his initial commitment to running a hardware business with his partner, Austrian-Jewish merchant Sol Starr, shows a certain entrepreneurial spirit that Wild Bill lacked. Dismayed over his friend’s descent into drinking and gambling, Charlie Utter tells Bullock: “You got some of Bill’s qualities, but then you got something he’s missing… You get along in the world. Turn a dollar. Look out for yourself… He don’t know how to do it.” Again, this evinces a sense of ambition and practicality absent in Wild Bill, one that foreshadows Bullock’s role in Deadwood later on in the series.
In Season 1 and the first half of Season 2, Bullock’s staunch principles and willfulness place him at loggerheads with Swearengen. At first, the two men appear to be polar opposites. Bullock seems to embody law, order and morality. Swearengen, on the other hand, is ostensibly amoral, unconcerned with the law and brutal in pursuit of his interests. Bullock expresses an immediate dislike for the saloonkeeper. Upon their first meeting, the script reads: “A beat, then a compelling antagonism toward Swearengen beyond will, logic, justice or justice or injustice asserts itself in Bullock” (). Viewers are led to believe early on in the series that Bullock and Swearengen will be nemeses, the former a clear-cut paragon of justice and virtue, the latter a dastardly villain absolutely committed to evil. However, Deadwood is not a John Wayne movie, and it soon becomes clear that the truth is far more complicated.
As Deadwood progresses and it characters develop, Bullock’s distinction as the clear-cut “hero” of the show progressively evaporates. Although his intentions are honorable and his commitment to justice is sincere, he also has a volatile demeanor and is prone to violent outbursts that end in the object of his rage being seriously injured. It is not for nothing that Swearengen asks Bullock: “are you a cunt driven by maniac or a stalwart driven by principle?” (Episode 20). Bullock himself clearly doesn’t know the answer to this question, lamenting to Star: (insert quote). Bullock, “the hero,” is at times more horrifying than Swearengen because it impossible to predict when he will lose control and beat someone to death.
In Season 1 and the beginning of Season 2, when Deadwood is on the cusp of change but the transformation has not yet began in earnest, Bullock’s positive qualities outshine his negative ones and he is an asset to the town. Without the external interference of corporate and political interests, Deadwood’s main conflicts are internal ones, posing existential threats to the show’s characters but having a negligible effect on the future of the town as a whole. Most of these conflicts derive from Swearengen’s seemingly amoral, social Darwinist (although he would not use such a scholarly term) perspective, which leaves him with no compunction against cheating, brutalizing and murdering innocent people to achieve his commercial ends. Swearengen’s “dark side” is on full display throughout Season 1. For example, he enters into a collusion to sell an ostensibly dried-up gold claim to Brom Garrett, a new arrival to the town with no knowledge of prospecting. When the man protests being ripped off and threatens legal action, Swearengen has him murdered. When he finds out that the gold claim he sold was, in fact, rich with gold, he attempts to slip Garrett’s widow Alma heroin so that she will be more pliable and likely to sell back the claim. Some other detestable actions include nearly choking a prostitute in his employ for defending herself against a customer, trying to have a little girl killed for witnessing the murder of her family at the hands of his associates and drowning a heroin addict in a bath tub.
As appalling as Swearengen’s actions often are, he differs from the show’s other “villains” in that he derives no sadistic joy or satisfaction from inflicting harm on others, only resorting to violence when he feels it is necessary to advance his commercial interests. It becomes apparent in Season 2 that he is even willing to subordinate these interests for the benefit of Deadwood as whole.
Swearengen possesses a certain code of ethics (as distinct from morality) built around independence, rugged individualism, self-sufficiency and entrepreneurship. These are, true or not, considered distinctly American values. His life is also reminiscent of the Horatio Alger story that attracted so many to the New World and, subsequently, to the West. After emigrating from England as a young orphan boy, he worked his way up to a position of modest wealth and authority. From these lowly beginnings, he eventually went on to establish The Gem in Deadwood, a successful saloon that also serves as a base of operations for his various enterprises (some of them criminal). His strong, commanding personality and pragmatic cunning make him the de facto leader of Deadwood, hated by some, liked by others, and respected by all.
Bullock’s value to Deadwoodlies not in his typical qualities of a Western lawman – which, if anything, often prove liabilities – but in his capacity to bend his strict code of ethics and commitment to justice when doing so clearly serves the interest of the town. When an untimely bout of kidney stones put Swearengen out of commission, geologist Francis Walcott manages to lay the foundation for the town’s acquisition by mining baron George Hearst. Enlisting Yankton officials and several of the town’s residents (including Cy Tolliver and E.B. Farnum), Walcott convinces the miners to sell their gold claims by spreading rumors that Deadwood is to be annexed and all mining claims invalidated. Bullock, distracted by personal matter and his duties as sheriff, does not uncover the conspiracy. When he passes his kidney stones and realizes what has transpired, Swearengen tellingly chides Bullock: “Bedridden I know more than you.” For all his lawman’s abilities, Bullock does not have the keen political intellect of Swearengen and is therefore unable to influence the larger events affecting the town.
This is not to say that Bullock is useless, but merely that he needs someone with more political savvy to direct him. Swearengen subsequently enlists Bullock’s aid in getting Deadwood annexed to Montana via the sheriff’s connections from his time as a lawman in that state. Furthermore, he explains that Bullock is the perfect person to represent Deadwood in its bid for legitimacy: “you do make a good appearance, so they’re prone to grant you their trust, which we will use as an asset in the coming campaign” (episode 20).
Unlike Wild Bill Hickock, Bullock adjusts to the demands of Deadwood’s current trajectory. Defying his stubborn, borderline pathological need to see even the most minor crimes punished with violence, Bullock rescues a Yankton politician who has disingenuously threatened to invalidate a mob of angry miners’ gold claims so that they will panic and sell them to Hearst. By letting a guilty man walk, Bullock also effectively spares his former nemesis, Swearengen, the blame for the man’s murder. Swearengen muses: “Impresses me that Bullock… avoided putting his pet interests: innocence, guilt, fucking who did what to fuckin’ who before the needs of the fuckin’ camp. Shows fuckin’ progress; show’s growin’ maturity to what makes the worlds fuckin’ tail wag” (episode 19). In other words, Bullock is learning to play the game, setting aside his own gratification for the long-term prospects of Deadwood, which could not survive if Swearengen were jailed for the Yankton politician’s murder.
Paradoxically, Deadwood’s annexation to another state, at this point in its history, will serve as a way of preserving rather than losing a degree of independence. Faced with the threat of Hearst’s mining empire, the town’s key figures realize that forming a legitimate government as part of a state will provide them with limited protection against the business interests threatening to usurp all local authority. Bullock and Swearengen must put aside their personal antipathy towards one another for the larger good of the town.
Ever the keen businessman, Swearengen understands that a Deadwood under Hearst’s thumb will be infinitely less profitable than one with some semblance of independence. A man like George Hearst is unwilling to share power or compromise and would certainly not allow Swearengen to maintain his status as a self-made, uninhibited businessman. In a metamorphosis of Frederick Jackson Turner’s notion of the West as a cradle of American values, the town of Deadwood adopts democracy and civilization in response to the threat of a robber baron. As the state of Deadwood before Hearst’s arrival shows, neither the roughness of the frontier and the promise of starting over are enough to civilize people, nor transform them into Americans.
Instead, the conditions of the West, as represented in Deadwood, only establish the foundation for a peculiarly American civilization, providing the “raw materials” by fostering certain values and laying the framework of institutions that could one day become government. However, without an impetus for transformation, Western towns like Deadwood are far from Turner’s idealized vision. Rather, it is the threat of losing the independence that the town’s citizens have become so accustomed to that forces its most prudent members to build the raw promise of Western values into a civilized, American whole.
Deadwood posits over the course of its three seasons that the ideal architects of this society are not the same individuals that gave the West its mythical status in American history. Swearengen’s prudence and quick thinking, not Wild Bill’s impulsiveness and quick draw, are the key to confronting the challenge of independence-stifling robber baron control. Principled flexibility, not principles alone, is the key ingredient to remain relevant, as Bullock’s character progression demonstrates.