Taylor Sheridan's New Show Is Literally Just A Horse Staring At A Camera For 8 Hours, Critics Call It 'Masterpiece'
Listen, I get it. We’re all living through the collapse of civilization. The price of eggs is a hostage situation, the AI is writing our TPS reports, and every time you open Twitter, it smells like a dumpster fire someone left in a tanning bed. We need escapism. We need grit. We need the rugged individualism of a man who can rope a steer while mumbling about the death of the American Dream. So, naturally, the king of that particular vibe, Taylor Sheridan, has blessed us with his latest opus. And it’s… a horse.
That’s it. That’s the show.
According to a press release so pretentious I almost choked on my gas station coffee, the new Paramount+ series, tentatively titled *Emptied Saddles* (or maybe *The Ruminant: A Yeehaw Meditation*), features a single, stationary camera pointed at a palomino gelding standing in a field. No dialogue. No plot. No Kevin Costner standing in the rain looking constipated. Just a horse. Breathing. For eight episodes.
And the critics? Oh, they’re eating it like it’s a nine-course meal at a sustainable farm-to-table restaurant where the waiter describes the emotional journey of the beet. The New York Times called it "a devastatingly profound commentary on the hollowing out of the rural soul." Rolling Stone said it’s "the most authentic depiction of the West since *The Searchers*, if *The Searchers* was just a guy on a horse who didn’t do anything." Variety literally just printed a picture of a tumbleweed with the headline "Yes."
Now, before you think I’m just hating on a guy who has the Midas touch for making rich people pretend they’re cowboys, let me be clear: I’ve watched *Yellowstone*. I’ve endured the endless monologues about how the land doesn’t care about your feelings. I’ve seen Kelly Reilly drink a glass of wine like she’s trying to weaponize it. I get the appeal. It’s a show for people who think ranch work is a personality trait and that buying a $12,000 Carhartt jacket makes you a blue-collar hero.
But this new project? This is peak Sheridan. This is the logical endpoint of a man who has become so powerful, so insulated from the concept of "no," that he can greenlight a project that is literally just a horse standing around. And the critics are gaslighting us into thinking it’s high art.
Let’s break down the first episode, which I watched out of pure morbid curiosity. It opens with a 15-minute static shot of the horse’s rear end. Not even a good angle. Just a horse butt, occasionally twitching a tail. The sound design is, apparently, "meticulous," which is critic-speak for "they paid someone to record the sound of grass moving." A fly lands on the horse’s ear. The horse flicks it. Critics called this "a masterclass in naturalistic storytelling." I called it "my Saturday afternoon if I lived in Nebraska."
The second episode is where things get "controversial." The horse walks three feet to the left. I’m not joking. The Paramount+ servers nearly crashed from the sheer narrative tension. Social media exploded. "Is the horse sad?" "Is the horse representing the final days of the American frontier?" "Why is the horse in the same spot as last week?" These are real tweets. People are writing think pieces about the horse’s subtext.
And here’s the thing: Taylor Sheridan is laughing all the way to the bank. He knows what he’s doing. He’s trolling us. He’s the ultimate Dark Souls boss of the entertainment industry. He saw that *Yellowstone* fans would watch literally anything with a cowboy hat and a dramatic sunset, so he decided to see how far he could push it. Spoiler alert: pretty damn far.
The show has already been renewed for a second season, which will reportedly feature the same horse, but now there’s a fence in the background. Get ready for that deep dive on the symbolism of barbed wire. The AITA post writes itself: "AITA for telling my film studies friend that his analysis of a horse blinking is just him projecting his own midlife crisis onto livestock?"
But the real kicker? People are paying for this. Paramount+ subscriptions are up 12% since the premiere. Guys named Chad and Hunter are canceling their gym memberships to stay home and watch a horse not do anything. They’re calling it "meditative." They’re buying "Team Horse" merch. There’s a subreddit dedicated to analyzing the horse’s bowel movements.
I can’t wait for the spin-off. *1883* was about the brutal Oregon Trail. *1923* was about the Great Depression. The new show, *2024*, will just be a horse scrolling through TikTok. Truly, we are living in the end times.
So, what’s the verdict? Is this the greatest piece of visual storytelling since *There Will Be Blood*, or is it the most expensive piece of performance art ever funded by a streaming service that also has *SpongeBob*? Honestly? It’s both. It’s a masterpiece of mediocrity. It’s a $50 million middle finger from a man who has never been told "that’s a bad idea" in his life.
And you know what? I’ll probably watch the next episode. Because deep down, I want to see if the horse finally does something. Maybe it takes a nap. Maybe it stares directly into the lens with the cold fury of a man who just got divorced. Maybe it just farts. But I’ll be there. Because we all love watching a trainwreck, even if the train is just a horse standing in a field.
Final Thoughts
After years of covering the industry, it’s clear that Taylor Sheridan has cemented himself as the reigning architect of modern neo-Westerns, but his formula—stoic men, sprawling landscapes, and simmering resentment—risks becoming a parody of itself. His ability to tap into a raw, rural disillusionment is undeniable, yet the narrative shortcuts and repetitive archetypes in shows like *Lioness* or *1923* suggest a creator who trusts his brand more than his craft. In the end, Sheridan’s greatest strength—his unflinching portrait of a forgotten America—may also be his greatest weakness if he doesn’t evolve beyond his own myth.