Review: LAWMEN: BASS REEVES and a love for the ages

Please note this review contains extensive spoilers for the televison show Lawmen: Bass Reeves

Thanks to some…encouragement…from my husband, I have watched nearly everything that Taylor Sheridan has created and/or written, including the entirety of the Yellowstone universe. Yellowstone is actually the least interesting; instead, the stories of 1883 and 1923 are much more compelling to my historical fiction loving heart. And while it’s not technically a spin-off of the Yellowstone universe, I’m sure the Lawmen series came out of Sheridan’s work doing research for his westerns.

And boy, did he start with a doozy.

Lawmen: Bass Reeves introduces us to the Black Deputy US Marshal whose escapades may have inspired the creation of The Lone Ranger. (Of course, we couldn’t have a Black lawman being the best shot in the west, fighting for truth and justice, so alas, white man it would be.) Starting in the days of the American Civil War, we’re introduced to Bass when he is riding as an enslaved man with his enslaver, a Confederate officer. It’s in this opening scene we see just how good with a gun Bass is, even if he’s being forced to use his skills for the Confederacy.

(As an aside, this was a great look at what would have been expected of Jeffrey Wright’s character Holt had his enslaver been part of the regulars instead of the Bushwhackers in Ride With The Devil, a movie I hate that I watched repeatedly as a teenager because…well…everybody was hot. All that long hair, all the scruff. Hashtag millennial regrets.)

Anyway. Back to Bass. He is a crackshot who unfortunately has to work for the devil, because, as he says to a fellow enslaved man, “I’d rather be shot in the front than the back.” We actually see a Black man get shot in the back for running away during a volley between the armies, so it’s not a worry Bass has without cause. When his enslaver, George Reeves, is granted leave from the regiment, they travel back to Texas, where Bass’s beloved Jennie still lives. She, like him, is enslaved by the Reeves family, and has been left behind when the rest of the family went to town. They have a heartfelt, sexy reunion until Bass is called back up to the house, where he gets himself into a little predicament. George, horrible man that he is, offers Bass his walking papers if he wins a hand of cards, and then cheats in order to get out of it. Thanks to Bass’s…violent temper…he has to run away, or the consequences will be dire.

I briefly worried when we reached this point that Bass would never see Jennie again, especially when he landed in Indian Territory and took up with Sara and her young son, Curtis. But Bass’s connection was always with Curtis, and the years he and Sara spend together are more companionable than romantic, from what little is presented. And when Curtis is killed by the season’s Big Bad, that relationship is completely severed.

And so when Bass returns to Texas to find Jennie and finds a child with her, Bass and the rest of us do some counting and wondering. And when he finally gets up the nerve to speak, and tells her he hopes her new man treats her right, she says “He does.”

He’s a good man who doesn’t talk much, and has a habit of running off, but yeah, he treats her right, as long as he wants to stay and be their daughter’s father.

My heart. My soul. This is one of those moments that makes your insides flutter. In a romance novel, this would be the denouement of the love story, but for Bass and Jennie Reeves, it’s only the beginning.

Jump ahead ten years, and the Reeves family has built a homestead (and a larger family). Bass is trying his best to be a farmer, but the crops aren’t doing very well. When he’s approached by Deputy US Marshall Sherrill Lynn (which I thought was hilarious because I grew up listening to disco star Cheryl Lynn), Bass discovers a new way to pursue justice. But he gets himself into another…situation (“I punched another white man,” he tells Jennie, after Sherrill does something asinine and assholish) and thinks it’s all over. Surprise, surprise, he’s invited to become an actual Deputy US Marshall, instead of one of their sidekicks, AKA posseman (which I thought was “possum man” the first time Dennis Quaid said it).

He doesn’t know what he’s in for when he takes it, but he’s got to pay for Jennie’s new piano.

At home, Bass and Jennie are as much in love as they have been. The Reeves family continues to grow thanks to their amorous lovemaking, and the pair support and respect each other when it comes to running the home and raising their children. Bass is an attentive dad, especially to their oldest Sally, and is particularly affected by the new job’s required distance. As the years pass and Bass becomes the most sought-after Marshall for all kinds of bounties, Jennie worries that he’s losing himself in the job, and giving it more than he gives their family. But they don’t stop loving each other, and they are always there for each other when the question is asked or not asked.

(Can we talk about the time they’re getting all frisky and he’s like “how does it feel to not be pregnant for once” and she says who says I’m not excuse me Jennie Reeves please take care of yourself!)

Anyway.

While there were plenty of daring hunts and fancy fights and trick shots, the relationship between Bass and Jennie was what kept me coming back for more. To see them go from young lovers to a mature couple who are able to express their needs, even when it’s difficult, to a pair of people who have been hurt and scared and need each other, and finally back to lovers whose eyes are only for each other…it was inspiring and wonderful to see it presented for all to see.

There might not be enough romance for someone looking for it to enjoy, but overall, Lawmen: Bass Reeves is an excellent show to watch to get a glimpse into a period and place that has been overly presented as a white man’s world for far too long. There is plenty of racism, sexism, xenophobia, and general prejudice, but there are also people of all kinds on both sides of the law—and some storylines that really question those sides and who belongs on which.

***

Of course, I can’t talk about a Reconstruction-era Black couple without mentioning Beverly Jenkins. If anyone reading this wants to explore more about the lives, works, ambitions, and romances of Black folks During and after the Civil War, Beverly Jenkins is your Person. Starting with her first novel, Night Song, or Topaz, in which Bass himself makes a cameo appearance, you can wander through her thirty years’ worth of backlist to find your own cast of lawmen, outlaws, and those that are a little bit of both.