Recently the TV series Landman came out, inspired by the podcast Boomtown, which Marfa Public Radio reporters Mitch Borden and Sally Beauvais helped produce. The podcast delves into the realities of the oil and gas industry in the Permian.
Marfa is no stranger to Hollywood depictions of West Texas (Marfa for Beginners was inspired by this phenomenon). As Landman becomes one of the most popular shows, we want to highlight the experiences of people who work in the industry in real life.
Christian Patry, our guest writer this week, is a real life Landman - aka our own Billy Bob Thornton.
“The oil and gas industry makes $3 billion dollars a day in pure profit,” says Tommy Norris in one of the opening sequences of Taylor Sheridan’s new show Landman. “But before any of that money is made, you’ve got to get the lease. You’ve got to secure the rights and lock up the surface… Secure the lease, then manage the people. First part’s pretty simple. It’s the second part that can get you killed.”
The show Landman, and more particularly Tommy Norris, the eponymous protagonist of the series played by Billy Bob Thornton, presents the profession of a landman as these opening lines suggest. Being a landman is essential, unpredictable, and dangerous.
I can attest to the fact that landmen are essential to the oil and gas industry. The job is unpredictable in the sense that it’s not like working for the post office. But dangerous? I suppose I’ve had some pretty mean paper cuts in my day and one time I nearly broke my neck tripping down the stairs at the Pecos County Courthouse. Plus, I’ve had some email typos so bad that they transcend oversight and approach danger. Regardless, it’s this danger aspect that makes the show so alluring to those unfamiliar with the real day-to-day trials and tribulations of a petroleum landman.
So, what is a landman? What does a landman really do? And how accurate is the show? As a career landman, and someone who gets asked about this show quite often, I’m just happy that these questions are being asked. In what is otherwise an esoteric profession outside of Texas, I’m kind of enjoying the attention.
Just to get this out of the way: A “landman”, or “land professional”, is someone who, in very simplistic terms, procures mineral rights. The term “mineral rights” pertain to the oil and gas that lies beneath the ground, or subsurface. This work includes, but is not limited to, determining mineral ownership (which can be quite complex), obtaining leases from mineral owners, negotiating surface use agreements with landowners, negotiating lease agreements (or as Tommy Norris states, “secure the lease”), acreage trades with other oil companies, and so on. In modern times, most of this work is done from the comfort of one’s desk. Nothing riveting enough to make for good television.
There has been a lot of debate surrounding the show here in Midland and within the industry. Does the show get it right? The opinion seems to be divided as to what extent the show’s inaccuracies or misrepresentations impact it’s quality (or hamper a real landman’s ability to enjoy it). One thing is certain, however - the show brings attention to an area of the country that craves it. It supplies some real zingers in support of the oil and gas industry and does a good job of pointing out that the world runs on hydrocarbons and the need for oil and gas isn’t created by those who extract it.
"There ain’t nobody to blame but the demand that we keep pumping it”, Tommy says. That’s not to say there aren’t any unflattering depictions in the show, but the demonization of oil and gas is so commonplace in film and television that Landman serves as a notable deviation.
As one can observe, there seems to be an obsession amongst landmen to correct the factual errors contained in the show. I have a complicated relationship with this notion. While I’ll readily admit that Tommy Norris is more of a drilling superintendent than a landman, I’m also quite content to allow the outside world to believe that I have regular encounters with the cartel and have the County Sheriff's number on speed dial. I don’t anticipate another show to ever come out that showcases our profession, and I’ll be damned if I don’t exploit this opportunity for everything it's worth. Run-ins with the cartel? Narcotraffickers on private jets? Blowouts at the rig? Just another day in the patch.
I have been told by my wife Rebecca that I make the Landman viewing experience quite painful. She may have a point. If you watch an episode of Landman with me, I will:
- Obnoxiously point out every time a recognizable location in Midland appears on screen.
- Complain that the most of the show is filmed in Fort Worth and not on location in Midland.
- Unsuccessfully suppress my impulse to provide a constant stream of commentary.
- Nod approvingly anytime Tommy quips what I find to be a poignant observation on the oil and gas industry (sometimes I even pretend to miss part of a line and rewind it to insure that my wife really gets the point.)
- Belt out a forced chuckle anytime Tommy cracks open a Michelob Ultra as if to say “Us landmen love our beer!”
- Roll my eyes exaggeratingly anytime what we are watching is not exactly what a real landman would do in that given situation.
- Agonize anytime Tommy Norris slightly misuses an industry term or correct verbiage.
A few months ago, I had my monthly ‘catch-up’ phone conversation with my father-in-law, who lives in Detroit, an area of the country where most of the population is just hearing the term ‘landman’ for the first time. Toward the end of the call he said, “Oh by the way, you’re famous out here. All of our friends watch Landman and ask us about you. They want to know if that’s really what you do every day.” Not unconsciously, my voice lowered and began to adopt a fabricated Texas drawl.
“Yessir. I reckon it’s a bit like that,” I said.
“Yeah, well I don’t plan on correcting anyone” he responded. I politely tipped the cowboy hat that I wasn’t wearing as we ended the call. Just another day in the patch, I thought to myself.
Whether or not Landman serves as an accurate portrayal of the profession misses the point. At the end of the day, I’m just glad that I have something to reference when explaining my profession.
“A landman? Like the show?”
“Yessir, that’s me.”
Does the show serve to perpetuate stereotypes about the oil and gas industry and misrepresent the function of a landman? Maybe. But you can bet your britches that this landman is toting his cowboy boots with him on his next trip to Detroit with a swagger in my step. After all, I’m a landman.
Christian Patry is a landman based in Midland, Texas. The Nada Surf song “Popular” was loosely based on his college experience at the University of Texas at Austin.
All photos courtesy of Kathleen Shafer. You can find more of her airport photos on her website.
High Five
This week's High 5 is a Landman mix from Christian Patry:
1) Out of Time Man - Mano Negra
2) Mama Nantucket - Michael Nesmith
3) I Don’t Like the Man I Am - Pete Molinari
4) I Paint A Design - Michael Hurley
5) Share the Land - The Guess Who
Caló
Féria - Órale, for March, we’re gonna touch on one of the central cultural experiences that informs Caló: poverty. Much of the aesthetic of Caló is an adaptation to this experience. That is, what’s thought to be pretty and ugly and good and bad in Caló reflects this experience of poverty. Of course, every language expresses poverty in its own way, not just Caló. In the case of Caló, however, poverty is expressed as hunger and scarcity of the resources needed to survive, like clean water, safety and effective medical care. Things like worn out shoes and coats come in a different order of need. Seeing your family go hungry is poverty, not poor shoes and coats. The Caló word for this episode is féria. It means cash or change, whether bills or coins. To say someone has lots of féria is to say they’re rich.
Caló is a borderland dialect. You can find more episodes here.
From the Newsroom
Months after officials in Odessa approved a controversial ban on transgender people using bathrooms that correspond with their gender identity, a new iteration of the local city council has effectively abandoned the policy, which officials now say never actually took effect.
The original ordinance — approved at an Odessa City Council meeting on Nov. 12 — would have amended the city code and established harsh punishments for anyone who uses a restroom that does not align with their “biological sex.”
Mitch Borden has that story here.
PSAs
Tonight, the Sul Ross State University book club, the Lobo Literati League, will meet at 7pm at the Espino Center on the University Campus for “An Evening with Sid Balman Jr.”
Balman, A Writer in Residence at SRSU and a Pulitzer-nominated national security correspondent, will share readings from his novel Algorithms and from his current work-in-progress, The Mural, which is about the Robb Elementary School shooting in Uvalde.