Tulsa King Season 1 Review – The General Lands in Oklahoma

🎬 Introduction

It’s hard to believe that Tulsa King marks Sylvester Stallone’s first leading role in a scripted television series. For decades, he’s been the quintessential movie star, the man who built franchises like Rocky and Rambo with his bare hands. So when it was announced he’d be teaming up with Taylor Sheridan—the mastermind behind the Yellowstone universe—and Terence Winter of The Sopranos fame, expectations were sky-high. The result? A show that feels tailor-made for Stallone’s specific brand of weary, tough-guy charisma.

The premise is simple but brilliant: Dwight "The General" Manfredi is a New York mafia capo who kept his mouth shut for 25 years in prison to protect his boss. He walks out expecting a reward, a territory, something. Instead, the new leadership—men who were in diapers when he went inside—exiles him to Tulsa, Oklahoma. "There's nothing there," he’s told. And that’s exactly the point. He’s being put out to pasture.

But Dwight isn’t the retiring type. From the moment his alligator-skin boots hit the tarmac in the Sooner State, the show establishes a tone that is uniquely its own. It’s part fish-out-of-water comedy, part brutal crime drama, and part western. For a busy dad looking for a show that delivers entertainment without requiring a flowchart to follow the plot, Tulsa King is a breath of fresh air. It’s old-school storytelling with a modern twist, anchored by a legend who is clearly having the time of his life.

For our full series hub, see Tulsa King Series.

Tulsa King: Season 1 [Blu-ray]

Catch every detail of Dwight’s arrival in Tulsa. The Blu-ray edition offers superior audio and video quality compared to streaming, plus exclusive extras.

🧠 Story & Themes

The core arc of Season 1 is about rebuilding. Dwight lands in Tulsa with nothing but the suit on his back and a debit card he doesn’t know how to use. He has no crew, no connections, and no respect from the locals. Watching him systematically dismantle the existing power structures—not with an army, but with sheer confidence and a few well-placed right hooks—is incredibly satisfying.

He starts small. He walks into a legal marijuana dispensary, confused by the concept ("You sell pot... legally?"), and immediately decides to offer "protection" to the owner, Bodhi. It’s a classic mob racket applied to a modern, legal business, and the friction between Dwight’s archaic criminal code and the soft, corporate reality of 2022 is where the show finds its best humor. But it’s not just about money. Dwight is lonely. He’s a man out of time, trying to find a place in a world that has moved on without him.

The theme of betrayal and loyalty runs deep. Dwight was loyal to a fault, giving up 25 years of his life for a "family" that discarded him the moment he became inconvenient. In Tulsa, he starts to build a new family—a found family of outcasts. There’s Tyson, the cab driver who wants more out of life; Bodhi, the stoner entrepreneur who reluctantly respects Dwight’s business acumen; and Mitch, the ex-con bar owner who recognizes a kindred spirit.

For dads, the most resonant theme is likely fatherhood and regret. Dwight has a daughter he hasn’t spoken to in decades. His time in prison cost him that relationship, and his exile to Tulsa is, in many ways, his last chance to be a father figure, even if it’s to a surrogate son like Tyson. The show doesn’t shy away from the pain of those lost years. When Dwight tries to reach out, it’s awkward and painful. It grounds the mob antics in real human emotion. You root for him not just to win the turf war, but to fix the broken parts of his soul.

🎭 Characters & Performances

Let’s be clear: this is the Sylvester Stallone show. At 76 years old (during filming), he commands the screen with an ease that is startling. He plays Dwight as a man who is dangerous precisely because he is calm. He doesn’t need to shout. He reads books, he quotes Marcus Aurelius, and then he knocks a guy out with a single punch. Stallone brings a vulnerability to the role that reminds you of Creed. You see the age in his eyes, the weariness of a life lived in violence, but also a sparkling wit. He’s funny—genuinely, intentionally funny.

The supporting cast is the secret sauce that makes the show work.

• Jay Will as Tyson: As Dwight’s driver and unlikely protégé, Will brings a youthful energy that bounces perfectly off Stallone’s grumpiness. Their dynamic is the heart of the show. Tyson sees Dwight as a ticket to a bigger life, while Dwight sees Tyson as a kid who needs guidance (and protection from the darker side of the life).
• Martin Starr as Bodhi: Starr (Silicon Valley) is perfectly cast as the deadpan, cynical weed shop owner. His interactions with Dwight are comedy gold. He represents the modern world—digital, detached, passive—crashing against Dwight’s analog, direct, aggressive force. Watching Bodhi slowly warm up to Dwight’s methods is one of the season’s best arcs.
• Garrett Hedlund as Mitch: The owner of the Bred-2-Buck bar, Mitch is the only local who speaks Dwight’s language from the start. Hedlund plays him with a quiet, simmering intensity. He’s an ex-bull rider and ex-con who understands the cost of the life Dwight lives.
• Andrea Savage as Stacy Beale: An ATF agent who unknowingly hooks up with Dwight, creating a complicated cat-and-mouse game. Savage holds her own against Stallone, playing a woman who is just as lonely and damaged as he is, albeit on the other side of the law.

The villains, particularly the local biker gang led by Caolan Waltrip (Ritchie Coster), serve their purpose well. They are menacing enough to be a threat, but you never really doubt that Dwight will handle them. The real conflict is internal—Dwight vs. his past, Dwight vs. his age, Dwight vs. his regrets.

🎨 Visual Style, Animation & Audio

Visually, Tulsa King embraces the contrast between the cramped, grey concrete of New York (seen in flashbacks and the pilot’s opening) and the wide-open, sun-drenched plains of Oklahoma. The cinematography leans into the western aesthetic. Tulsa is shot with a golden hour glow, emphasizing the heat and the space. It makes Dwight, in his sharp Italian suits and sunglasses, pop out of the frame. He looks like an alien invader, which is exactly how the locals see him.

The production design deserves credit for the Bred-2-Buck bar. It feels lived-in, smelling of sawdust and stale beer, a perfect sanctuary for Dwight’s crew. In contrast, the weed dispensary is sterile and bright, highlighting the absurdity of Dwight’s presence there.

Audio-wise, the show features a killer soundtrack that mixes classic rock, country, and blues. It fits the "cowboy mobster" vibe perfectly. The sound design punches up the violence—every hit lands with a visceral thud. When Dwight breaks a glass or slams a phone, you feel it. But it’s the dialogue that sings. Terence Winter’s dialogue is sharp, rhythmic, and full of memorable one-liners. Stallone delivers them with a gravelly baritone that is iconic. You’ll find yourself quoting Dwight’s "logic" long after the episode ends.

👨‍👧 The Dad Perspective

Why is Tulsa King such a hit with dads? Because it’s a fantasy of competence. Dwight Manfredi is a man who solves problems. He walks into a chaotic situation, assesses it, and fixes it—usually by being the toughest, smartest guy in the room. In a world where we often feel overwhelmed by things we can’t control (work, politics, the cost of living), watching Dwight simply handle business is incredibly cathartic.

Runtime & Watchability: The episodes are brisk, usually clocking in around 40 minutes. It’s the perfect length for a weeknight watch. The plot moves fast—there’s very little filler. You get in, you get a cool story beat, a funny interaction, maybe a fight scene, and you get out. It respects your time.

Age Guidance: This is definitely not for kids. I’d say 16+. The violence is sudden and can be brutal. There’s a scene in the pilot involving a hot plate that will make you wince. The language is constant—Dwight and his crew swear like, well, mobsters. There’s also sexual content and drug use. This is "Dad’s show" for after the little ones are down.

Rewatch Value: High. It’s a "comfort crime" show. You can put it on in the background while you’re folding laundry or working in the garage, and you’ll still enjoy the banter. It’s not a puzzle box show where missing a line of dialogue ruins the season. It’s about the vibes, the attitude, and the characters.

The "Old School" Appeal: Dwight represents an older generation—one that values face-to-face conversation, cash, and manners (even while committing crimes). The show pokes fun at Gen Z tropes through characters like Tyson and Bodhi, but it’s not mean-spirited. It’s a playful clash of generations where both sides learn something. Dads will relate to Dwight’s confusion about apps, pronouns, and cashless businesses, while also appreciating that he’s willing to adapt to survive.

✅ Pros & Cons

🗣️ Conclusion

🛒 Must-Own Options

📌 FAQ — Frequently Asked Questions