In the Down Under set 2006 The suggestionIn a breakneck opening, the viewer is drawn into a frantic firefight. Two minutes after the credits roll, a man hits you in the neck, bullet holes run through the walls of barracks like a sieve, two barely clothed women collapse unceremoniously dead, Guy Pearce’s character sits tied up and covered in blood, but stoic, his brother (shot and with caught with a pistol). ) sobs, flies buzz, holes are dug, and a British captain looks at the sand and the sun, wipes the greasy sweat from his brow and says: “Australia. What kind of fucking hell is this?”

In Areawe’re essentially in the same terroir as this film written by Nick Cave and directed by John Hillcoat. The so-called realm of the “kangaroo western” is a seedy and harsh place, a sweaty and horse-and-crocodile-filled cousin of Cormac McCarthy’s world. (Hillcoat also directed the McCarthy adaptation The street.) An ominous score and opening commentary confirm this. “Everything is trying to kill you: the climate, the land, the animals.” The land has two seasons: “drought and flood.” Vultures hunt and cattle trample around. Wide, windswept vistas eventually give way to a close-up of a femur, bright red and poking through the thigh skin, reminiscent of Halloween decorations. His owner, who will not be long for this world, is quickly found and ravaged by a pack of wild dogs. The rather unusual cold open trigger warning is no joke: “Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander viewers are warned that this series may contain images and voices of deceased people.”

This world of oxen, western shirts, cowboy hats and so much gristle introduces us to the Lawsons, the fifth generation family owners of “Marianne Station”, the largest cattle empire in the world, “as big as Belgium”. ” In this country, everyday life is characterized by hunting a wild bull with an archaic device reminiscent of a jeep, which is equipped with something like the largest garbage collector in the world. When an unexpected death leaves the organization without a clear successor, the tangled family tree tendrils of drunken sons, wayward grandsons, naive granddaughters, and perhaps questionably motivated in-laws vie for some sort of controlling interest. They are opposed by a variety of outside interests: rival cattle barons, gangsters, billionaires – all portrayed with varying shades of nefariousness. When one says that “mining leases trump everything – we keep the lights on for the whole world,” the path to both the devious and the screaming places this story goes is clear.

With such a shotgun-and-pick-up-truck swagger and storyline in conversation with the second season of FargoNetflix is ​​trying to immerse itself in the wide world of fans Yellowstoneor Tulsa Kingor whatever else Taylor Sheridan is cooking up under the vast stars of his ranch. But it doesn’t take long before the tough guy-and-gal schtick goes a little toward pulp, often ending up in soapy territory. And for stretches out, it can seem downright frothy, with a love story built around an awkward request to take iPhone videos of some sweet horseback riding moves. A Street house-style brawl is triggered by the kind of bar entrance that involves jumping on your buddy’s back, knocking his hat over his eyes, and then starting a fight with bottles smashed over their heads for fun. A risky deal involving stolen crocodile eggs ensues, a metaphor for an awkward love triangle that’s more than a little eye-rolling.

But there are plenty of ready-made, hard-hitting platitudes to satisfy your Sunday after-dinner appetite while sitting on the porch with a toothpick. “You’re calling me a liar?” “I’m calling you a lying bastard.” “Respect is what matters.” “You remember who owns this place!” It’s a colorful group of characters who are constantly on display are the search and make whispered mouth contacts on the sidelines of formal soirées or sausages on the Barbie. Family traumas are discussed and intrigues are hatched around a campfire in the countryside. A real “bastard” of a patriarch belt brings his addict son to tears after telling his other son’s corpse, “You were the best of them.”

As a sad cowpoke who was passed over by his father Graham Lawson (patriot(Michael Dorman) has the calm and downcast looks that suggest the heart of a poet – or at least the good nature of a really sad drunk. His sometimes loving wife Emily (MindhunterAnna Torv is the beating heart of the show. She absorbs and fends off the misogyny and familial distrust by coolly pursuing her own views and literally taking the bull by the horns.

But despite everything, Australia remains the main character here. The show is filmed throughout the Northern Territory and South Australia (in Kakadu National Park and at a huge and working cattle station). All of this offers an unprecedented vastness that is at once beautiful and threatening, ethereal and from another time. It’s deeply enjoyable to step away from the conspiracy themes and spend some time with the indigenous community who fish and fool around and talk about going “on the land” instead of “with the land” and losing their boots, because “you have to feel the land” so that the land knows you.”

But really, beef is king in this world. So back to the good ol’ boys club, where we seethe and seethe with distrust, from ranchers’ association meetings to livestock auctions and the need to rejuvenate the gene pool with bulls with more spirit. And here it is not hard to see a parallel with our own country: a place mired and fragmented in frustrations, in stubborn identity attitudes, in inequality, and in an endless violence that never really seems to lead to anything but more .

Area Premieres October 24th on Netflix