When Yellowstone exploded onto our screens, it did something that very few television shows ever manage to do.

It made millions of people fall in love with a lifestyle they’d probably never experience.

I’m one of them.

I’m a bloke from the countryside in the UK. We have plenty of cattle over here, but we certainly don’t have cowboys riding around Montana. Yet somehow Yellowstone made me care deeply about ranching, cattle drives, bunkhouses and a way of life that’s completely different from my own.

That’s an incredible achievement.

It takes a genuinely special writer to create a world that people don’t just enjoy watching—they actually wish they could live in.

Which is exactly why The Dutton Ranch has been so disappointing.

After watching Episode 9, I finally realised what wasn’t clicking for me.

It isn’t the acting.

It isn’t the production.

It isn’t the cinematography.

Those things are all genuinely excellent.

The problem is much simpler than that.

The writing has forgotten what made Yellowstone special in the first place.

Here’s my video discussing what’s really wrong with The Dutton Ranch writing so far:

Yellowstone Was Never Just About the Drama

I think this is the biggest misunderstanding surrounding this series.

People seem to remember Yellowstone as this constant rollercoaster of shootings, betrayals, explosions and family feuds.

Yes, all of that happened.

But that’s not why people fell in love with it.

People fell in love with the ranch.

We loved watching Rip teaching new ranch hands.

We loved the conversations in the bunkhouse after a long day’s work.

We loved the cattle drives.

The branding.

The horses.

The scenery.

The quiet moments around the campfire.

There was something incredibly authentic about the world Taylor Sheridan created.

The drama wasn’t the foundation of the show.

It was built on top of a world that already felt worth spending time in.

That’s why it worked.

If there hadn’t been a single gunfight for three episodes, I still would have watched because I enjoyed simply existing in that world.

The Dutton Ranch feels completely different.

Instead of asking, “What would naturally happen on a ranch?”

It feels like the writers start by asking:

“What’s this week’s drama?”

And that’s a huge difference.

The Drug Reveal Was Never Really a Reveal

Episode 9 confirmed something we’d all suspected for weeks.

The cattle were being used to smuggle drugs.

My reaction?

“…Yeah.”

That’s about it.

Honestly, I’ve rarely seen a reveal that felt so obvious.

And I think I know exactly why.

I’ve actually got a degree in acting, and one of the things we studied was the language of cinematography.

There’s a simple rule.

If the camera deliberately keeps showing you something…

It’s important.

Think about the classic example.

A film slowly pans past a shotgun sitting on a shelf.

You instantly know that shotgun is going to be fired before the film ends.

That’s visual storytelling.

The Dutton Ranch uses exactly the same language.

The lingering shots.

The suspicious conversations.

The mysterious cattle.

The constant warnings to stay away from certain animals.

The cowboy getting shot for asking questions.

It wasn’t subtle.

By Episode 2, most viewers already knew where this storyline was heading.

So when the big reveal finally happened in Episode 9, it didn’t feel like a twist.

It felt like the show finally catching up with its audience.

That’s not a payoff.

That’s confirmation.

Somewhere Along the Way, It Became a Soap Opera

This was the moment everything clicked for me.

Halfway through Episode 9, I suddenly thought:

“This feels like EastEnders.”

Or Coronation Street.

Not because of the setting.

Because of the writing.

Every episode revolves around this week’s crisis.

Family drama.

Relationship drama.

Cartel drama.

Teenage drama.

Next week?

Another dramatic problem.

Then another.

Then another.

At some point I stopped feeling immersed in the world and started feeling like I was watching writers manufacture conflict because that’s what television is supposed to do.

That’s a dangerous place for any show to end up.

Because the second you stop believing the world, you stop believing the story.

The Characters Have Stopped Growing

One of Yellowstone’s greatest strengths was character development.

Rip wasn’t the same man at the end of the series as he was at the beginning.

Beth evolved.

Jamie evolved.

Even Jimmy, arguably one of the biggest success stories in the Yellowstone universe, transformed from a clueless ranch hand into someone who genuinely found his place in the world.

Every season felt like characters were moving from Point A to Point B.

The Dutton Ranch doesn’t feel like it’s doing that.

It feels like the characters are standing still while the drama runs laps around them.

Every episode introduces another problem.

But very few of those problems actually change the people involved.

And after nine episodes, that’s becoming increasingly noticeable.

Carter Doesn’t Feel Like Carter Anymore

Nowhere is this more obvious than Carter.

Honestly, this might be my biggest criticism of the series.

It feels like the writers looked at one fact about Carter…

He’s nineteen.

…and decided that meant he had to become a stereotypical television teenager.

Suddenly everything revolves around his emotions.

Every week there’s another personal crisis.

Beth and Rip seem to spend half the season reacting to whatever Carter is upset about this time.

But that’s never who Carter was.

The Carter we met in Yellowstone had already lived a hard life.

He wasn’t immature.

If anything, he was forced to grow up far too quickly.

He didn’t spend his time worrying about every little emotional problem.

He worked.

He spoke his mind.

He earned his place.

Rip respected him because Carter proved himself through effort, not because people felt sorry for him.

That’s why audiences connected with him.

Now it feels like somebody has taken a generic teenage character from another television show and simply pasted Carter’s name on top.

It’s not character development.

It’s character replacement.

And that’s a huge difference.

Beth and Rip Are Better Than the Material They’re Being Given

Kelly Reilly is still phenomenal.

Cole Hauser is still phenomenal.

Neither actor has suddenly forgotten how to perform.

If anything, they’re carrying this show.

Beth still commands every room she walks into.

Rip still has that quiet confidence that made him one of television’s most respected characters.

The problem is that the writing no longer gives them enough to do.

Rip, in particular, has become strangely one-dimensional.

He walks into a room.

Looks intimidating.

Threatens somebody.

Leaves.

Repeat.

That’s not the Rip people fell in love with.

Rip has always been far more intelligent than people give him credit for.

He’s practical.

He’s dependable.

He’s calm under pressure.

He’s a natural leader.

I’d actually love to see him become more involved in shaping the future of the ranch itself.

Not just moving cattle around.

Let him help make business decisions.

Let him solve bigger problems.

One of the things I’ve always admired about Rip is that he doesn’t overcomplicate things. He isn’t trying to sound clever or impress people. He simply looks at a problem and works out the most practical solution.

Ironically, those are often the people who make the best leaders.

I’d love to see that explored more because, for me, Rip represents something television rarely gets right anymore.

Positive masculinity.

He’s strong without being arrogant.

Loyal without being weak.

Protective without controlling the people around him.

He works hard.

He keeps his word.

He respects Beth while never losing his own identity.

He’s exactly the sort of man I think more television should celebrate.

Instead, this series often reduces him to “the intimidating bloke who occasionally punches somebody.”

That’s selling one of the best characters in modern television incredibly short.

I Think Taylor Sheridan’s Absence Is Becoming Noticeable

I’ve got a theory.

And obviously it’s only a theory.

Every now and then somebody comes along with genuine creative genius.

Tolkien.

George R. R. Martin.

Vince Gilligan.

Taylor Sheridan.

These people don’t just write stories.

They create worlds.

Yellowstone became a phenomenon because Taylor Sheridan understood something most writers don’t.

People weren’t just watching for explosions and drama.

They were watching because they wanted to spend time on that ranch.

As Yellowstone grew, more spin-offs appeared.

More projects.

More responsibilities.

Naturally, more writers became involved.

There’s nothing wrong with that.

But writing dialogue isn’t the difficult part.

Understanding why audiences fell in love with these characters is.

And that’s where I think The Dutton Ranch is struggling.

It knows what these characters say.

I’m not convinced it still understands who they are.

Final Thoughts

I don’t want The Dutton Ranch to fail.

Quite the opposite.

I want it to be brilliant.

I love this universe.

I love Beth.

I love Rip.

I love the lifestyle Yellowstone introduced us to.

That’s exactly why this frustrates me so much.

Because I don’t think this show is missing better actors.

I don’t think it’s missing a bigger budget.

I think it’s missing the creative spark that made Yellowstone feel authentic.

The ingredients are all still there.

The performances.

The cinematography.

The production.

Now the writing just needs to remember why we fell in love with this world in the first place.

Because if it can do that…

The Dutton Ranch still has every chance of becoming something special.