I’ve recently been binge-watching Mayor of Kingstown, the gritty prison town drama co-created by Taylor Sheridan.
A few years ago I listened, just for giggles, to a lecture entitled “How to write a bestseller”. The lecturer, an author and a fan of women’s beach novels, warned her audience not to set their stories in impoverished or depressing environments.
Kingstown is a fictional small city in Michigan, on the Lake Michigan coast. Kingstown is the epitome of rust-belt poverty and decay. Kingstown is wracked by street crime and gang warfare. Mayor of Kingstown makes me grateful that I live in southwestern Ohio—no easy feat.
The only real industry in Kingstown is the city’s state prison. Most of the storylines involve the prison in one way or another.
There is no Jack Reacher-like superhero at the center of this show. Nor is there a good-looking young dude who is sure to make the female audience swoon. The hero (I use that term loosely) of Mayor of Kingstown is Mike McClusky (Jeremy Renner) a fiftyish ex-con and fixer who tries to bring some semblance of order to the town. The female lead in Mayor of Kingstown is Iris (Emma Laird) a prostitute with a history of abuse.
This show depresses me every time I watch it. But I can’t help tuning in, because the storytelling is so compelling. Every scene in Mayor of Kingstown is filled with multiple levels of conflict, and usually ends with a polarity shift.
Mayor of Kingstown is entertaining television. But for writers looking to branch out beyond clichés, the show is also proof that you don’t necessarily need to write “the same, but different” in order to find an audience. You just have to tell a good story.
-ET