“Landman” Recap, S2 Episode 9: “Plans, Tears, and Sirens”

Landman

Plans, Tears, and Sirens

Season 2 Episode 9

Editor’s rating 1 star *

Taylor Sheridan has officially written the straw man to end all straw men. Photo: Emerson Miller/Paramount+

In many soap operas, the climax of a given season is in the penultimate episode. Think of the dramatic battles and deaths of key characters on Game of Thrones or even further back in The Sopranos and The Wire. But Landman is different from most dramas. Tonight’s penultimate episode of season two feels like an anticlimax. Not only is it generally disappointing, but it’s the exact opposite of the climax.

Early on, I had reason to think this was a good thing. Thankfully, Rebecca’s romantic drama doesn’t last too long. She shows up at Charlie’s door early in the morning, apologizes for pushing him away, and openly admits that she loves him. That was a big thing for her. I’m not necessarily all that attracted to Charlie, and I didn’t need to see him make Rebecca work for him, and I didn’t need Rebecca to have a man in her life, but this scene where they basically agree to a long-distance relationship while Charlie is on the move for the next six months is cute enough.

Yes, the offshore rig is finally starting! The energy is contagious early on in “Plans, Tears, Sirens,” as the main M-Tex staff (Tommy, Rebecca, Nate, Dale, and Cami) fly to Louisiana for a somewhat over-the-top but well-deserved viewing party. Tommy seems very anxious and exhausted during the trip, still fixated on the unlikely possibility of stepping on the gas, but he’s no match for Cami’s perhaps delusional confidence that this will pay off. She calls it her gut. He calls it greed.

I’ve enjoyed Tommy and Cami’s relationship throughout the season. That includes the episode’s best and most eventful scene, where the two sit together and watch the rig go by. Cami indulged in the same impatience that drove Monty to such great risks, unable to connect the dots and understand that it killed her husband. Tommy tries to make her understand that, but as it turns out, he has felt that impatience before and lost everything as a result. But she insists that the purity of that feeling actually kept Monty alive. (I mean, I guess, it killed him, and it’s very likely it’ll kill her too.) And if Tommy is against the big risk, Cami can’t let him be president of her company anymore.

Sure, Tommy being fired is big news, but it’s a fitting event for the penultimate movie. But this drama only takes up a small portion of the episode compared to this week’s real main storyline. Ainsley moves into the TCU dorms for summer cheerleading camp.

Leaving aside the obvious question of “why am I spending time on this?”, the question is, the stakes here are suddenly confusing. Ainsley was supposed to be away from home for college this season, but she’s been spending more time with her parents than ever before. We understand that she and her mother are best friends who are emotionally dependent on each other, but can we really believe that they would be so overly emotional about a week-long separation? The parting scene is completely melodramatic, especially with the blaring music and Angela’s cartoonishly wistful “If you love something, set it free.” There are probably some funny parts, but it’s neither comedic nor dramatic.

But the story really becomes unbearable when we meet Ainsley’s new roommate, a cranky non-binary sports medicine student. Start by describing this person in neutral terms. Their name is Paijin. They are from Minneapolis and have stinky ferrets. They are vegans and would like Ainsley not to eat meat or bring animal products (including cowhide shoes) into the room. They meditate at noon and dislike music. The dorm is a safe space for them, and they “need an environment designed to support their mental health.”

…Yeah. So the description speaks for itself. Pagen is perhaps Taylor Sheridan’s strawman to end all strawmen, much like the Yellowstone character who took all of Piper Perabo’s annoying qualities and cranked them up to 100. In fact, they may be the worst characters he’s ever written, and to accomplish that in one episode (even one scene) is impressive. Will we still be doing this in 2026?

It’s strange because when you actually meet real transgender people, you realize how complex, vibrant, human beings they are, just like anyone else. I’m a friend of mine who knows a lot about the variations of the specific made-up demographics that Sheridan is trying to skewer, whether the focus is “transgender” or “left-handed,” or even, to borrow one of his points of ire, “people who use a lot of therapeutic talk.” But none of my non-binary friends get triggered by the word “penetrate” or the thought of a penis, none of them throw in the words “safe space” or “patriarchy” in every conversation, none of them advocate banning animal products from their surroundings, and none of them hate music. They’re just normal fucking humans.

Maybe I’m taking this more seriously than I should. Sheridan apparently finds this whole thing more interesting than anything else. But it’s in episodes like this that his true worldview emerges, unchecked by other influences in the non-existent writers’ room.

In fact, I’m curious to see how this story ends next week. Because I can imagine a less terrible version of this. I still think Ainsley’s slut characterization is confusing based on her excellent ACT score, but it could be interesting to watch her adjust to an unfamiliar setting. I laughed when she said, “See you later.” I even like the scene in the admissions office where Greta pushes back on her roommate change request by asserting herself and encouraging Pagin to express how she feels about the unreasonable room rules. This scene seems to signal that Ainsley has grown up a bit and no longer needs her mother to solve her every little problem.

Then Angela shows up again after receiving a call from Ainsley, requesting that Greta be waived from her housing requirements and in exchange, her daughter be given an expensive suite in town for a week. Before we know it, Ainsley leaves Pagin and their ferret behind, and she and her mother are on their way to the country club with the cheerleading squad. They also agree that Angela should be close by while Ainsley attends college.

Now, this is clearly a regression, and I’d be surprised if next week’s finale didn’t at least have a crucial “growth” moment where Ainsley establishes her independence. Still, I can confidently say that wherever this goes, it will be worth the money it took to get there. There’s nothing satisfying about where this episode leaves things at issue, with Angela gleefully misidentifying Pagin’s gender while blaming the freshman’s misfortunes on victimhood.

What is the role of characters like Pagin in this story? Apparently they’re primarily created to make Sheridan laugh, an easy punching bag for all the things that annoy Sheridan about young feminazis, their confusing pronouns, etc. (I was surprised he had the self-control to keep his blue hair in check.) But narratively speaking, Pagin is supposed to exist to facilitate Ainsley’s separation from her mother and help her open her eyes to the world outside of Odessa. Being an adult means reflecting, learning, and stepping outside your comfort zone instead of screaming, crying, and throwing up when you encounter someone different. But Sheridan isn’t really interested in reflection. Unless perhaps it’s a masculine kind of reflection, basically meaning an old man sitting on his porch, quietly gazing at the sunset, thinking about years of loss.

The end of this episode reminds us of Ariana’s great moment when the asshole who harassed her during her first shift comes back and rapes her in an alley. However, this isn’t really an “Ariana moment.” It’s Cooper’s moment, focusing on the hero who apparently always shows up and saves her in the nick of time, almost bludgeoning Johnny to death. The tense music and surveillance camera footage seem to suggest that this isn’t over yet, and that Cooper may face some consequences for hurting the man. But there’s no real tension here, especially when we see Johnny still (barely) conscious. More importantly, why do we care about Cooper in the first place? Oh, yes, because this is a story about a man visiting his fiancée at work and saving her from a scary man, not a story about a woman confronting a scary man at work.

I don’t like the choice to have Ariana go through this kind of trauma as a way to stir up drama in a stagnant story, nor do I like the choice to make her a damsel in distress for Cooper to save. It’s an odd way to end the penultimate episode, but in some ways it’s the perfect ending to 56 minutes of bizarre television. I’ve only ever written one one-star review, and that was for Yellowstone’s penultimate episode, a dishwater-dreary episode that showcased Taylor Sheridan’s ego. There are no cameos from the man himself in this one, but similarly the characters stuck in various stages of arrested growth feel like a trip into his psyche, right next to the person writing, and I don’t like what I saw. Maybe I should take Greta’s advice and grow up.

• I don’t really enjoy TL or anything related to Cheyenne. It’s just a repeat of an old man’s wet dreams. TL hangs out at the pool with a beautiful younger woman and wonders how they would have gotten together if she were 30 years younger. This time there’s a bit more of her backstory. Apparently her real name is Penny and she has so far saved $162,000 to travel around the world. But that’s it. Maybe they’ll run away together in the final episode? Why not?

• Also, Cooper is still leading his crew and starting training again, asserting himself to the boss. Riveted. (Really, what is he learning here that he didn’t learn when he was on the crew in season 1?)

• “She said, ‘Act like an adult, as it says on your driver’s license.'” Nowhere does it say that. ”

• Okay, now I want an alligator po-boy.

• Doesn’t Ainsley know what a ferret or weasel is?