‘Landman’ Recap, S2 Episode 9: ‘Plans, Tears, and Sirens’

Plans, Tears, and Sirens

Season 2

Episode 9

Editor’s Rating

1 stars

Taylor Sheridan has officially written the strawman to end all strawmen.
Photo: Emerson Miller/Paramount+

In many serialized dramas, the climax of a given season lands in the penultimate episode; think of the dramatic battles and major character deaths of Game of Thrones or, further back, The Sopranos and The Wire. But Landman isn’t like most dramas. Tonight’s penultimate episode of season two feels like an anti-climax — not just a letdown generally, but the diametric opposite of a climax.

Early on, I had reason to think this was a good one. I appreciate that Rebecca’s romantic drama doesn’t get dragged out too long; she shows up at Charlie’s door early in the morning to apologize for pushing him away and openly admits she likes him, which is big for her. I’m not necessarily so charmed by Charlie that I really needed to see him make Rebecca work for it — nor do I really need Rebecca to have a man in her life in general — but it’s a cute enough scene, with the two essentially agreeing to a long-distance relationship while he’s on the rig for the next six months.

Yes, the offshore rig is finally launching! The energy is infectious early in “Plans, Tears, and Sirens,” with the main M-Tex crew (Tommy, Rebecca, Nate, Dale, Cami) flying to Louisiana for a somewhat garish but deserved viewing party. Tommy looks very anxious and drained during the trip, still fixated on the low likelihood of hitting 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 all season, and that includes the episode’s best and most eventful scene, when the two sit together and watch the rig pass by. Cami is luxuriating in the same rush that drove Monty to pursue big risks, unable to connect the dots and understand that it killed her husband. Tommy tries to make her see this — after all, he once felt that rush, and lost everything as a result — but she insists that the purity of that feeling actually allowed Monty to live. (I mean, I guess, but it also did kill him, and it could very well kill her too.) And if Tommy is opposed to big risks, Cami can’t have him as the president of her company anymore.

It’s major news that Tommy got fired, sure, an event befitting of a penultimate installment. But this drama makes up such a small slice of the episode compared to the true main storyline this week: Ainsley moving into the TCU dorms for a summer cheerleading camp.

Even setting aside the obvious “why are we spending time on this?” question, the stakes here are confusing right off the bat. This was always supposed to be the season when Ainsley moved away from home for college, but she has been spending more time with her parents than ever. I understand that she and her mom are best friends who emotionally depend on each other, but is it really believable that they’d be so over-the-top emotional about separating for a week? That goodbye scene is totally melodramatic, especially with the blaring score and Angela’s cartoonish, wistful “If you love something, set it free.” I guess some of this is supposed to be funny, but it doesn’t land either comedically or dramatically.

But the story really gets unbearable when we meet Ainsley’s new roommate, a grumpy non-binary sports medicine student. Let me start just by describing this person in neutral terms: Their name is Paigyn. They’re from Minneapolis and have a smelly pet ferret. They’re vegan, and would prefer that Ainsley not eat meat or, in fact, bring any animal products (including cowhide shoes) into the room. They meditate at noon and hate music. This dorm is their safe space, and they “need their environment crafted to support their mental health.”

…Yeah. I mean, the description speaks for itself. Paigyn is possibly the Taylor Sheridan strawman to end all strawmen, like Piper Perabo’s Yellowstone character with all the annoying qualities pumped up to 100. In fact, they might be the single worst character he’s ever written, and it’s impressive to accomplish that in one episode (one scene, even). Are we still doing this in 2026?

It’s strange, because if you ever actually meet real trans people, you realize how complex and vibrant and human they are, like anybody else. I’m friends with plenty of variations of the specific made-up demographic Sheridan is trying to skewer, whether you focus on “trans” or “lefty” or even “person who uses too much therapy-speak,” to borrow one of his points of ire. But not a single one of my non-binary friends gets “triggered” by the word “penetrate,” or by the thought of a penis, nor do they insert the phrase “safe space” or “patriarchy” into every conversation, nor do they insist on banning animal products from their vicinity, nor do they dislike music. They’re normal fucking people.

Maybe I’m taking this more seriously than I should. Sheridan clearly seems to find all this funny more than anything. But it’s in episodes like these that his true worldview comes out, unchecked by any other influences in his nonexistent writers’ room.

I’m actually curious how this storyline will end next week, because you can imagine a less awful version of this. I still find Ainsley’s bimbo characterization confusing based on her good ACT score, but it can be funny to watch her acclimate to an unfamiliar setting. I did laugh when she said, “I will see they later.” I even kind of like the admissions office scene, when Greta pushes back on her request for a roommate change by encouraging her to assert herself and express how she’s feeling to Paigyn about their unreasonable room rules. That scene seems to telegraph a turn in which Ainsley grows up a little, no longer needing her mom to solve every little issue for her.

Then Angela comes barreling in again after a call from Ainsley, demanding that Greta waive the housing requirements and secure her daughter an expensive suite in town for the week instead. Before we know it, Ainsley has left Paigyn and their ferret behind, and she and her mom are on their way to the country club with the cheerleading squad. The two even agree that Angela should stay nearby the whole time Ainsley is in college.

Now, this is very clearly a regression, and I’d be surprised if next week’s finale doesn’t have at least some definitive “growing up” moment where Ainsley establishes her independence. Still, I can confidently say that wherever this goes, it’s not worth what it took to get there. There’s nothing satisfying about where we leave things in this episode, with Angela gleefully misgendering Paigyn while blaming the freshman’s unhappiness on their victim mentality.

What is the function of a character like Paigyn in this story? It seems like they were mainly created for Sheridan to laugh at, an easy punching bag for all the things that annoy him about young feminazis and their confusing pronouns or whatever. (I’m surprised he had the restraint to hold off on the blue hair.) Narratively speaking, though, Paigyn should exist to help facilitate Ainsley’s break from her mother, to help open her eyes up to a world outside Odessa. Growing up means reflecting, learning, stepping outside your comfort zone instead of screaming, crying, and throwing up when you encounter someone different. But Sheridan isn’t much interested in reflection — unless maybe it’s the manly kind of reflection, which basically means an old man sitting on a porch, silently staring at the sunset and thinking about some age-old loss.

It makes me think of the big Ariana moment at the end of this episode, when the asshole who harassed her during her first shift returns to rape her in the back alley. Except this isn’t an “Ariana moment,” really; it’s a Cooper moment, focused on the hero who was clearly always going to show up, save her in the nick of time, and nearly beat Johnny to death. The tense music and security cam footage seem to suggest this isn’t over, that Cooper could face consequences for hurting the guy. But there’s no real tension here, especially when we see that Johnny is still (just barely) conscious. More importantly, why are we worrying about Cooper at all? Oh, that’s right, because this is a story about a man visiting his fiancée at work and rescuing her from a scary guy, not a story about a woman facing a scary guy at work.

I don’t like the choice to put Ariana through a trauma like this as a way of ginning up some drama in an otherwise stagnant story, and I don’t like the choice to make her a damsel in distress for Cooper to save. It’s a strange way to end a penultimate episode — but in a way, that makes it the perfect conclusion for a bizarre 56 minutes of television. I’ve only written one one-star recap before this, and that was for Yellowstone’s penultimate episode, a dull-as-dishwater showcase for Taylor Sheridan’s ego. This one doesn’t feature a cameo from the man himself, but it similarly feels like a trip into his psyche, with characters stuck in various stages of arrested development right alongside the guy writing them, and I don’t like what I see. Maybe he should borrow Greta’s advice and be an adult.

• Really not enjoying the T.L. and Cheyenne stuff, either. It’s just an old man’s wet dream on repeat: T.L. hanging out in the pool with a beautiful younger woman, musing about how they’d be together if he were 30 years younger. She gets a little more backstory this time — apparently her real name is Penny, and she has $162,000 saved up so far to travel the world — but that’s about it. Maybe they’ll run away together in the finale? Why the hell not?

• Also, Cooper is still leading his crew and starting to drill again, asserting himself to Boss. Riveting. (For real, what is he learning here that he didn’t learn while working on the crew in season one?)

• “She said, ‘Act like an adult, like it says on my driver’s license.’ Which it doesn’t say anywhere.”

‘Landman’ Recap, S2 Episode 9: ‘Plans, Tears, and Sirens’

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