Kevin Costner’s departure from the immensely popular series Yellowstone may have been fraught with real-world drama, but his insights into the show’s fictional world remain remarkably candid and, as many viewers would agree, undeniably accurate. While praising the series for its authentic portrayal of modern-day ranching and the vast, rugged beauty of the American West, Costner didn’t shy away from calling the series what it often is: “a bit of a soap opera,” populated by characters who, in his words, “should all be in prison.” This blunt assessment cuts to the core of Yellowstone’s enduring appeal and its often-disturbing narrative, highlighting the pervasive lawlessness that defines the Dutton family’s fight to preserve their legacy.

Costner’s observation is far from an exaggeration; it’s a stark reflection of the violent, morally ambiguous world Taylor Sheridan has meticulously crafted. The Duttons, in their relentless pursuit to protect their sprawling Montana ranch, have consistently operated outside the bounds of conventional law, often resorting to extreme measures that blur the lines between justice and vigilantism, and frequently crossing into outright criminality.

At the heart of their illicit activities lies a place whispered about in hushed tones: “The Train Station.” Not a real railway stop, but a desolate canyon overlooking the border, serving as a clandestine dumping ground for bodies that pose a threat to the Dutton empire. This stark reality underscores the family’s readiness to eliminate any problem, no matter how permanent or gruesome the solution. It’s a testament to their deep-seated belief that some transgressions are best handled not by law enforcement, but by silent, irreversible action. The existence of The Train Station isn’t merely a plot device; it’s a grim symbol of the Duttons’ self-appointed sovereignty, a place where their own brand of justice, or lack thereof, is meted out without accountability.

Indeed, nearly every central character in the Dutton orbit has blood on their hands. Rip Wheeler, the ranch foreman and John Dutton’s most loyal enforcer, is perhaps the most prolific in his violent undertakings. His past, shrouded in tragedy and marked by his own childhood trauma, has forged him into a weapon for the Duttons. Rip’s unwavering devotion translates into an absolute willingness to commit any act necessary to protect the family and the ranch. From silencing rival ranch hands to eliminating corporate saboteurs and even disposing of those who simply know too much, Rip has sent an untold number of individuals to The Train Station, often with John Dutton’s explicit or implicit approval. His actions are not random acts of violence but calculated measures taken with chilling resolve, solidifying his role as the ranch’s grim reaper.

Jamie Dutton, the adopted son and brilliant but perpetually tormented attorney, provides a complex study in moral erosion. Initially striving to uphold a semblance of legality, Jamie’s journey sees him descend into increasingly dark territory, often at the manipulative behest of his family. He murders his biological father, Garrett Randall, after Randall attempts to orchestrate a hit on the entire Dutton family, a horrifying act that definitively severs Jamie from any hope of a conventional life. Prior to this, Jamie also kills a journalist who threatened to expose the family’s secrets, demonstrating a chilling capacity for ruthlessness when pushed. His internal conflict between his legal training and the brutal demands of his adoptive family makes his criminal acts particularly tragic, revealing a character trapped by his own vulnerabilities and the expectations of a dynasty he simultaneously despises and craves approval from.

Kayce Dutton, the youngest son and former Navy SEAL, constantly battles his violent nature and the pull of his family’s dark world. Despite his desire for a simpler life with his wife Monica and son Tate, Kayce is repeatedly drawn into the ranch’s conflicts. He has been involved in numerous shootouts and confrontations, often acting as a one-man SWAT team to defend his family, leading to multiple deaths. His role as Livestock Commissioner further complicates his moral landscape, forcing him to navigate the blurred lines between legitimate law enforcement and enforcing the Duttons’ agenda, often leading to ethically compromised decisions and outright illegal actions.

Then there’s Beth Dutton, the family’s cutthroat financial strategist, whose venomous intelligence is matched only by her capacity for vengeance. While she might not wield a gun as often as Rip or Kayce, Beth’s crimes are no less destructive. She engages in corporate espionage, financial manipulation, and psychological warfare that often ruins lives and livelihoods. Her relentless vendettas, particularly against Jamie, push the boundaries of cruelty. Her calculated destruction of Market Equities’ assets and her role in coercing Jamie into heinous acts are prime examples of her criminal genius, which, while not always involving physical violence, causes immense harm and operates with blatant disregard for legal or ethical standards.

Beyond the explicit murders, the Duttons are implicated in a myriad of other offenses: assaults, arson, intimidation, systematic cover-ups, and an assortment of white-collar crimes related to land dealings and political maneuvering. The infamous “Y” brand, seared onto the chest of those deeply loyal to the ranch, is a violent act of symbolic ownership. Often applied without explicit consent, it’s a scarring ritual that binds individuals to the Dutton code, demanding absolute loyalty and complicity in their secrets. If not a criminal offense in the strictest legal sense, it is undeniably an act of coercion and profound psychological manipulation, marking its recipients as property of the ranch.

This pattern of lawlessness isn’t a recent development; it’s a generational inheritance. The spin-off series 1883 and 1923 vividly illustrate that the Dutton family has always been defined by a fierce, often brutal, determination to survive and claim their piece of the American West, irrespective of the rules. From the perils of the Oregon Trail to the harsh realities of the Great Depression, the early Duttons also resorted to violence, deceit, and self-made justice to secure their future, laying a violent foundation for the modern-day Yellowstone Ranch. Their adversaries, too, from land developers to rival ranchers and even elements within the Confederated Tribes of Broken Rock, are frequently depicted as engaging in equally, if not more, morally questionable and illegal activities, creating a perpetually hostile environment where survival often necessitates a descent into the morally gray.

John Dutton himself, the stoic patriarch and later the Governor of Montana, is the orchestrator and chief beneficiary of many of these transgressions. While he often expresses weariness with the violence, he rarely shies away from ordering it or covering it up. His transformation from rancher to politician allows him to weaponize state power, using his office to shield his family and manipulate the legal system to his advantage. This highlights a profound irony: the man who pledges to uphold the law is simultaneously its most potent subverter, showcasing the deep corruption that can permeate power when wielded for personal gain and legacy preservation.

Ultimately, Costner’s “they should all be in prison” remark isn’t a criticism of the show’s quality, but rather an astute observation of its core narrative truth. Yellowstone is a masterclass in modern Western storytelling precisely because it dares to expose the dark underbelly of power, loyalty, and legacy. It explores the intoxicating allure of unchecked authority and the terrible cost of preserving a dynasty by any means necessary. The characters’ relentless pursuit of their goals, despite the trail of bodies and broken laws, makes for incredibly compelling television. Viewers are drawn to this morally complex world, not in spite of its characters’ criminality, but often because of it, engaging with the raw, brutal honesty of a family fighting to survive in a world that constantly threatens to swallow them whole. In the rugged, beautiful, and lawless landscape of Yellowstone, the lines between hero and villain, justice and crime, are constantly blurred, making Costner’s brutally honest assessment resonate with undeniable truth.