Taylor Sheridan doesn't care if you think his writing is trash. In fact, he's counting on it.
The mastermind behind Yellowstone and half the programming slate on Paramount+ recently popped up on The Bill Simmons Podcast and dropped a massive truth bomb about how he constructs his television empires. He actively plays a game with television critics, and his favorite tool is pure, unadulterated anger. He calls it rage-baiting.
If you've ever watched an episode of Landman or Lioness and thrown your hands up at a bizarre character choice, you didn't outsmart the writer. You fell directly into his trap. Sheridan is playing a totally different game than the rest of Hollywood. He isn't hunting for golden trophies or glowing five-star reviews from coastal media outlets. He wants cold, hard cash, massive ratings, and the sweet satisfaction of watching the cultural elite lose their minds over his storytelling choices.
The Demi Moore Trap in Landman
Look at how he handled Demi Moore in the first season of his oil-boom drama Landman. Critics immediately hammered the show, claiming Sheridan had absolutely no idea how to write for women and was wasting an absolute icon by keeping her in the background.
Turns out, that layout was entirely intentional. Sheridan laid out the exact strategy he used when pitching the role to Moore. He told her she was basically going to be an extra for seven episodes while the critics lined up to bash him. Then, he planned to kill off her character's husband, hand her the keys to the entire oil company, and force her to run the empire in season two.
"The critics are going to come after me," Sheridan said, recounting the plan. "I'm underutilizing this, I can't write for women, all this nonsense. Then I'm going to kill your husband and you're going to have to run the oil company."
By hiding Moore in plain sight, he set up a massive narrative flip. When season two kicks off, her character delivers a blistering monologue establishing herself as the biggest, meanest force in the room. Sheridan deliberately forced his audience and his critics to form a lazy, predetermined opinion just so he could smash it to pieces later. He admitted he only sent the press the first three episodes of the show because, in his own words, "fuck 'em, honestly."
Writing Against the Hollywood Elite
This isn't just a quirky habit. It's a business model. Sheridan understands a fundamental truth about modern entertainment that most network suits completely miss. Mainstream America is exhausted by safe, hyper-sanitized television engineered by corporate committees.
Sheridan didn't mince words when talking about modern studio executives, either. He noted that back when industry legends like Robert Evans ran Paramount, writers and directors were simply turned loose to create art. Today, shows are suffocated by endless notes from marketing executives and former lawyers who climbed the development ladder without ever learning how to actually construct a narrative. They get panicked that audiences won't understand complex stories because they aren't storytellers themselves.
Sheridan bypassed that entire system by demanding total control. He writes on his ranch, refuses standard writers' rooms, and delivers blunt-force dramas that connect directly with viewers who feel ignored by traditional Hollywood. He openly admits he isn't trying to win Emmys. He wants to tell stories that common people understand, and he gets paid an astronomical amount of money to do exactly that.
Why the Rage-Bait Strategy Works
When a critic tweets their outrage over a clunky line of dialogue or a politically incorrect monologue in The Madison or Lioness, they think they're performing a public service. What they're actually doing is driving millions of eyeballs directly to Paramount+.
Outrage is the most powerful currency in modern media. It creates a massive feedback loop:
- Sheridan inserts a controversial or seemingly poorly written beat.
- Critics write angry takedowns highlighting the exact moment.
- Core audiences see the mainstream media complaining and immediately tune in out of spite or loyalty.
- The show climbs the streaming charts, securing Sheridan's leverage for his next billion-dollar deal.
It's a beautiful, cynical engine. By leaning into culture-war shrapnel—like random digs at coastal culture or caricatured depictions of urban life—he creates instant conversation. If his shows were merely mediocre, they'd die a quiet death. By making them loud, aggressive, and offensive to polite society, he ensures they stay immortal.
The Pivot to NBCUniversal
The industry is watching closely to see if this raw, unfiltered approach translates to his massive new deal with NBCUniversal. Moving away from his long-term home at Paramount means entering a new corporate ecosystem. But if you think a new studio means Sheridan is going to start softening his edges or writing to please the television academy, you haven't been paying attention.
He knows his audience. He knows exactly which buttons to press to get a reaction out of the media. The moment an artist admits they're actively writing scripts to pull your strings and mess with your head, the traditional rules of criticism go right out the window. You can call it juvenile, and you can call it cheap, but you absolutely cannot call it unsuccessful.
The next time you find yourself groaning at a wild plot twist in a Sheridan show, take a deep breath. Don't bother writing an angry post online. He already anticipated your reaction months ago while sitting on a horse in Texas, and he's laughing all the way to the bank.
