There’s an impulse among successful television shows to follow up a strong season with a victory lap, but isn’t what The Lowdown does in its second season. Enough time has passed since the first run of Sterlin Harjo’s neo-noir Western dark comedy wrapped that the specifics of what exactly Lee Rayborn (Ethan Hawke) did that was so heroic have faded from the memory of nearly everyone that watched it, and that’s acknowledged within the Season 2 premiere episode "The Rupidoop." Lee’s awarded with a prestigious honor by a local literary society, which is the kind of prize that any writer would be enthusiastic to receive until they realize that the superlative of “Citizen Journalist” is condescending. The rambling, inebriated speech given by Lee to a crowd of Tulsa’s few living progressives is a hilarious set piece, but it’s also the perfect thesis statement for the new season; most people can’t cope with the expectation of achieving greatness twice because they’ve already exhausted the amount that they are willing to care.
Lee’s a self-proclaimed “truthstorian” who’s technically employed by the Heartland Press editor Marty Brunner (Keith David), but he hasn’t written anything of value since the discovery of a land conspiracy at the end of the first season. Although there’s a Western influence in nearly everything that Harlin’s created, Season 2 of The Lowdown is shot and staged like a Howard Hawks gunslinger movie, with Hawke’s wandering loner washed up in a scuzzy bar before being rejuvenated by a beautiful woman. The lady in question is Ginger (Betty Gilpin), a public defender who sees him only as a means to elude two stalkers on her back. The Hawksian banter between Lee and Ginger, the likes of which could have been delivered by Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn in 1956, is prelude to a chase scene in which the pair is pursued by two rogue prison guards.
Lee is a great character whose eccentricities are made more charming as a result of Hawke’s performance, but to show his quick descent into uncouth slackerdom is a smart way to avoid turning him into a blowhard. On paper, Lee’s a walking caricature; he’s a literate cultural aficionado who’ll take any chance to rant about the privilege of inherited wealth and suppression of free speech, but he’s such an uncouth heathen that he’s considered proposing to a woman he has a one-night stand with because they like the same music. Although this season’s version of Lee has dark sunglasses and wiry drug habits reminiscent of Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski, his manic behavior has consequences because his public meltdown was witnessed by his teenage daughter Francis (Ryan Kiera Armstrong). This similarly could’ve been a cheap emotional blow, but Francis was an integral part of Season 1 because she helped Lee collect critical evidence; if she is disappointed in him, then he screwed up.
Season 1 had a strong rooting factor with its inclusion of an indigenous family that had been denied their ancestral land, made more gripping thanks to the inclusion of the late Graham Greene in one of his final roles. Lee is positioned in Season 2 as bored by the official assignments he’s been handed by the Heartland Press; he’s never been able to be a “real” reporter because he likes to pick and choose what stories to care about, and they don’t include local board meetings. Ginger’s theoretically reason enough for Lee to take on a new case; he has no money and could impress his daughter if the striking public defender was his new girlfriend, especially since her expertise is seemingly in assisting underprivileged communities. Yet, Lee’s biggest weakness is that the few things he does invest in he doesn’t commit to half-heartedly, and his righteous fury about the corruption of the justice system is insurance that he and Ginger are unwitting patsies within Tulsa’s institutional coverup.
It’s great to see Gilpin in such a well-written role, especially after she was given nothing to do in The Social Reckoning. However, the biggest addition to the case of Season 2 of The Lowdown is Tommy Lee Jones. Jones was the perfect choice to play Lee Sr., and not just because he’s a believable pick for Hawke’s on-screen father; if Lee Jr. has started to turn into the hard-drinking nonconformist from a Mark Twain novel, then there’s no illusion when his father is concerned. Jones’ legacy as a cowboy actor is helpful because Lee Sr. needs to seem like he’s lived a thousand lives, and has now become too drunk and absent-minded to remember half of them.
Jones is one of my favorite actors: one of his charms is that he’s been doing the “dry, no-nonsense grump” shtick for 33 years since his Oscar-winning performance in The Fugitive. The films that he’s directed, including the underrated The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, point to an unabashed figure of Americana who’s conflicted about his heritage, which is the same definition that could be applied to both generations of Rayborn men. The more pressing concern in The Lowdown Season 2 is that Lee Jr. has no room to complain about his father’s absence when he’s underperformed with his own duties as a parent. This is embodied by a moment in the second episode "Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound," where Lee Sr. has to explain away his past as a con man to his granddaughter. Francis may be upset about her father’s inadequacy, but she can’t help but be somewhat bemused and curious about the man who raised him.
Given that HBO is bound to be consumed by Skydance and likely turned into a service that can only produce Harry Potter and Game of Thrones spinoffs, I’ve started to imagine that FX is the best channel out there for complicated, thoughtful shows for adults like The Lowdown.