Billy Bob Thornton isn’t apologizing for Landman—and he’s not about to start. As the Paramount+ series, created by Taylor Sheridan, faces mounting criticism for its “too much” dialogue, rough edges, and unfiltered characters, Thornton has fired back with a blunt, unapologetic defense that’s resonating with fans and stirring even more debate.

In a recent interview promoting the show’s first season (which premiered in late 2024 and continues into 2026), Thornton addressed the backlash head-on. “People are saying it’s too loud, too rough, too much,” he said. “My question is simple: Have you ever watched real life?” The actor, who plays Tommy Norris—a hard-drinking, sharp-tongued crisis manager in the cutthroat West Texas oil industry—insists the show’s intensity isn’t exaggeration for dramatic effect. It’s authenticity drawn from the people and places he’s known his entire life.

Thornton grew up in rural Arkansas, surrounded by the same kind of blue-collar grit that defines Landman’s world. “These aren’t characters I invented in a writers’ room,” he explained. “These are people I’ve worked with, drunk with, fought with, laughed with—oil field roughnecks, truck drivers, small-town hustlers. They talk big, they curse, they don’t pull punches. That’s not ‘too much’—that’s just how it is.” He singled out co-star Ali Larter, who plays Ainsley Norris, Tommy’s sharp-witted ex-wife navigating her own battles in the male-dominated oil world. “Ali was born for this,” Thornton said. “She brings fire and heart. She doesn’t soften it, and she shouldn’t have to.”

The series, executive produced by Sheridan (Yellowstone, 1883), follows Tommy as he manages crises for a powerful oil company while juggling family drama, corporate politics, and the brutal realities of the energy business. Critics and some viewers have called out the show for excessive profanity, graphic violence, and what they see as over-the-top machismo. Online forums and social media have lit up with comments like “It’s trying too hard to be gritty” and “The dialogue feels cartoonish.” Thornton dismisses the complaints as out-of-touch.

“This isn’t Hollywood fantasy,” he continued. “It’s not meant to be polite or toned down for prime time. It’s not a PR move or a feel-good story. It’s raw because the oil patch is raw. The back roads of Texas and Arkansas are raw. If that offends someone, maybe the outrage says more about them than it does about the show.” He pointed out that Sheridan’s writing deliberately mirrors the unvarnished speech and attitudes of the people who actually live and work in that world—people who don’t censor themselves for an audience.

Thornton also pushed back against accusations that the show glorifies toxic masculinity or outdated stereotypes. “These characters aren’t perfect. They’re flawed, they’re loud, they make mistakes—but they’re real,” he said. “And in a time when so much TV wants to sanitize everything, Landman dares to show people as they are. That’s not a flaw. That’s courage.”

Fans of the series have rallied behind Thornton’s stance, flooding comment sections with stories of growing up in similar environments and praising the show for its refusal to sugarcoat. Many credit Thornton’s performance—gruff, charismatic, and deeply lived-in—as the anchor that makes the chaos feel grounded. Larter’s portrayal has also earned strong praise for adding emotional depth to a world often dominated by male bravado.

As Landman barrels into its second season, the controversy shows no signs of slowing. Thornton, true to form, isn’t backing down. He’s doubling down—daring viewers to confront the real world, not just the polished version Hollywood usually serves. Whether you love it or hate it, one thing is clear: Landman isn’t here to be liked. It’s here to be felt.

And Thornton? He’s just getting started.