Halfway through Landman's second season, the vibes are (somewhat) improving

Take that dinner, for example. Rather than going off the rails as these meals usually do, Angela’s pirate-themed party turns out pretty fun. It’s meant to be a welcoming celebration for T.L., so Angela asks her former (and future?) father-in-law what his “death-row last meal” would be. He reminisces about his favorite seafood restaurant, and she brings home sacks and coolers full of shellfish and redfish, along with a bunch of nautical decor.

As was the case with the truffle-infused TCU-themed party in the season premiere, I continue to question how Angela can throw together these shindigs—with their gourmet ingredients and elaborate decoration—in just a few hours. But I did really like the quietly sweet scene of Angela and Ainsley prepping in the kitchen while T.L. sips a beer and watches, smiling. They tell him he doesn’t need to sit there and “listen to the crows cackle,” but he says he likes seeing people be happy with themselves. Later at the party, where everyone’s clad in pirate hats, T.L. growls at Tommy, “So much for the illusion of your miserable life, son.”

This is what I’m talking about, when I’m imagining “the good Landman.” It echoes what I wrote about the season premiere. Why can’t Landman be a little lighter? Why can’t Thornton, one of the more naturally funny actors currently working in Hollywood, be allowed to have more fun?

Would that be the good version of Landman, the one where Tommy just chills out and cracks jokes with his colleagues and family, week after week? I mean…I wouldn’t mind it. I certainly think that a big part of Landman’s success—and why a third-season renewal was an easy call for Paramount—is that the show’s fans enjoy Thornton’s whole vibe. They’re fine when Tommy’s in misery, but I think they really like it when he’s feeling goofy.

There are several scenes in “The Pirate Dinner” that are entertaining just because Tommy’s know-it-all patter and snippy asides are so funny. We’re blessed with two scenes this week at Permian’s greasy-spoon diner and bar—generally a good source of comedy on this show. In the first, Tommy is amused to hear that the Patch Cafe now has a beer menu, put in place to cater to an upcoming oil expo, and that one of the craft beers was developed by Dallas Cowboys legend Troy Aikman. In the second, Tommy drinks that beer (“I’m proud Troy Aikman’s got his own beer,” he says, sincerely), though he confesses to the bartender that he can’t really taste it because he lost his sense of smell in an oil-rig accident decades ago.

Little moments like these—off-the-cuff and mildly amusing—are what Sheridan and Thornton do best. The same could be said of the brief but enjoyable interactions between Tommy and T.L. In one, T.L. watches the horses roaming in a field next to M-Tex’s Permian rental property while Tommy speculates that those horses represent the place where the suburbs ends and the country begins…until the horses’ owner dies and his kids inherit his land. Later, when T.L. calls his son to complain that he’s bored and doesn’t know what to do with his day, Tommy suggests he watch The View, which he describes as “a bunch of pissed-off millionaires…bitching about Trump.” He says it’s kind of funny, like “a fart in church,” and when T.L. says that doesn’t sound funny, Tommy says, “Depends on your proximity to the fart.”

Whatever your politics (and honestly, I’m not sure about Sheridan’s), I hope you can appreciate that this is a snappy line. It also defines the worldview commonly expressed in Sheridan’s work. How you feel about him may depend on your proximity to the fart.

Even in a relatively okay episode, too much of Landman still consists of people in expensive Texas office buildings (with views of big-time sports stadiums!) yelling numbers at each other. I do appreciate that much of this show is about the nuts-and-bolts of the oil trade, reflecting Landman’s origins as an in-depth Texas Monthly-produced podcast. But too much of the drama here is derived from an exaggerated all-or-nothing framing of American entrepreneurship. No one on a Taylor Sheridan series can just own and operate a normal, money-making business. They’re all over-leveraged, in arrears. They’re all always in danger of losing everything if the number yellers get their way.

M-Tex is facing two number-yelling threats in this episode. One comes from a company that intends to hold the oil concern accountable for a big insurance payout that Monty and his accountant invested, unless M-Tex can claw that money back and quickly use it to construct a new rig to replace the damaged one the insurance covered. The other—theoretically—could come from the federal government, once they realize Cami has let Danny launder drug money by extending loans to her and the Norris family.

None of this is especially intriguing. Yes, the big business hoo-ha is central to Landman’s plot, such as it is. But, as I noted, none of it ever really leads anywhere. Some generic accountants and lawyers threaten Tommy, and then he coolly responds with one of his scoff-laden Last Pragmatic Man speeches. The whole dance repeats an episode or two later. This isn’t storytelling. It’s protracted litigation.

The business side of this business drama really only connects when it involves Cooper, whose wide-eyed naiveté and enthusiasm makes for a refreshing contrast to Tommy’s seen-it-all cynicism. I don’t quite buy that Cooper could launch his own oil-drilling business without securing legitimate bank loans. But it still stings when Tommy swoops in to tell his son—who thought he was already a millionaire on paper—that he actually owes so much money that he’s in danger of losing his lucrative leases and becoming a Basin laughingstock. Tommy saves Cooper by having M-Tex buy the leases, and when Cooper complains that he’ll get nothing from this deal, Tommy snaps, “You have nothing.”

But that’s not entirely true. Cooper has Ariana, who urges him in this episode to commit to marrying her by asking her father—who lives in Corpus Christi—for her hand. Cooper makes the trip, only to have Ariana’s dad say that he lets his daughter make her own decisions, and that this was really just a test—which Cooper passed. He then asks the young man to stay the night, after warning him that, “If you ever put a hand to her, I’ll kill you.”

Sure, there’s something patriarchal about this whole conversation. But it’s nice. This show could use more nice.

Stray observations

• • Speaking of the patriarchy, it’s still not as funny as Sheridan thinks for Angela and Ainsley to be so ditzy—as when they seem confused by the term “buccaneers”—or for Tommy to seek out opportunities to needle them for their ignorance. At one point in this episode, Tommy tries to figure out what pirates ate, so he can “let the air out of that dinner balloon.”
• • There also hasn’t been much fruitful material yet to come from Angela and Ainsley’s volunteering at the old folks home. In this episode, the oldsters throw Angela a birthday party (even though it’s not her birthday) and give her various sex toys. Hilarious?
• • Shelby, meeting T.L. for the first time: “You got a cool voice. Like the movie trailer guy.”

Noel Murray is a contributor to The A.V. Club.