The Heartbreaking Genius of Deadwood

Ian McShane as Deadwood’s Al Swearengen

Twenty years ago, HBO unleashed on the world what is to my mind one of the best drama series in the history of television, Deadwood. I watched it the first time around and have been revisiting it in the past few days, literally in the same week it premiered all those years ago as chance would have it. If you haven’t seen it, you are missing out on a true masterpiece.

Set in a small mining camp in 1870s South Dakota that is in the process of annexation and becoming a town, Deadwood is a mix of just the type of gritty characters you’d think might be attracted to a rough-and-tumble frontier settlement. There are brothel and bar owners, a hotelier, hardware store owners, a preacher, a newspaper man, a reluctant sheriff, a doctor, Chinese workers, and all those coming through to pan for gold and hopefully strike it rich.

Created and mostly written by David Milch, it brings the wild American West to life in ways never before seen up to that point in television history, I think. The human condition is on full display in all its horror, humor, and heartbreak.

Granted, as a historian who specializes in the Viking Age, the frontier history of America isn’t really my jam. As a matter of fact, whenever I’ve had to teach about the 19th century I’ve generally prefaced the class with some statement about how I think it’s the worst century on record (maybe that’s a post for another day). But Deadwood makes me forget about all that and brings to mind much deeper thoughts about what it means to be in this world no matter what the time period.

The common tropes and themes are all there: love, hate, ambition, greed, sorrow, betrayal, violence, kindness, sex, cruelty, and whatever else we can experience and/or throw at each other. The show’s creators situated all this within an odd juxtaposition of a grimy western camp filled with opportunistic low-lifes who just happen to speak in soliloquies and dialogues that border on Shakespearean. Sounds like an odd combo but trust me, it just works.

The real Deadwood, South Dakota

One of the best parts is that it’s based on a real place and real people. Al Swearengen, brilliantly played by Ian McShane, was a low-brow businessman and “entertainment” hustler in the real town of Deadwood, South Dakota. In the show, he feels like a mafia don as he orchestrates the sale of vice to any and all, from gambling and booze to prostitution. He hangs out on his balcony, overseeing the comings and goings in the camp’s main thoroughfare, monitoring things like a lord does of his manor. His Gem Saloon is a den of iniquity, and Al represents the absolute worst and best that is in all of us.

One of his skills is his use of language. He doles out verbal abuse like water rushes through a river, and the show takes swearing to monumental heights. On one occasion, I kept track of how many times he said just the two words cocksucker and fuck — 64 times in a 50-minute show! I read an article where a historian of the Old West said the show probably understated how much foul language was used back in the day! But, curiously, it doesn’t detract from what’s going on. You get used to it and feel immersed in the historical context.

Al also speaks in a prose that borders perilously close to poetry. You’ll find lots of memes online with some of his most memorable lines like,

“You can’t slit the throat of everyone whose character it would improve.”

“To not grab an ankle is to take a position.”

And

“In life you have to do a lot of things you don’t fucking want to do. Many times, that’s what the fuck life is… one vile fucking task after another.”

This video shows him dispensing life advice to Merrick, the local newspaper man whose operation had just been ransacked. The way he laces tough love with sympathy is classic Al. Just when you think he’s the most vile ass, he says something that reminds you there’s actually a human in there…

Swearengen isn’t the only jewel in the show. There’s a character actually named Jewel who is a disabled employee at Al’s saloon and has some of the best deadpan lines in the show. She is played by Geri Jewell, whose real-life disability cerebral palsy makes her portrayal remind us that all types of people would have existed in a melting pot like Deadwood.

There is also Doc Cochran, a physician and veteran of the Civil War who is shell shocked by the experience. Sympathetically played by Brad Dourif, Doc is that person we all know who has his demons but manages to keep them pushed just enough below the surface so that he can function as best as he can. He sees to the sick and dying and also the health of those in the camp, tending to everything from a smallpox outbreak to regular check-ups for the brothels’ whores. He is caring, alternates between being sure and unsure about his skills as a doctor, and can go toe-to-toe with tough characters like Al and get away with it. He doesn’t take shit from anyone.

And probably my favorite character of all is Calamity Jane, played by Robin Weigert. And yes, it’s that Calamity Jane. The frontierswoman who dressed like a man, was a sharpshooter, and appeared with Wild Bill Hickok in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show (Hickok also makes an appearance in season one). Jane is the person we probably all have in our family somewhere. The one who is sweet, caring, funny and also addicted. Jane drinks like a fish, spends most of the time drunk, and you just know watching her that it’s something that’s not going to change. She is probably going to drink herself to death, and there’s not much anybody can do about it. Her situation is sad and yet because she manages to exhibit such a level of wit, guts, humanity, and compassion, you simply make peace with it and her. She represents the type of surrender we need when we realize not everyone in this world can be fixed.

"Calamity Jane" actress Robin Weigert and the real Jane in the 1880s

Though this post may seem like some weird promo or ode to a TV show of all things, it actually reflects something that, as a historian, I think deeply about quite a lot, namely our common human story and condition in all its beauty and ugliness and complexity. One of the main lessons I want my students to take from my History courses is to not be so quick to judge and to understand that circumstances and people aren’t so simple most of the time. We need to show a little humility and patience with each other, both back then and now.

Deadwood contains moments disturbing enough to give me that queasy feeling like a gut punch, that are followed by making me laugh and then making me want to cry. At the end of the day, it simply reminds me of how utterly human we all are.