There is a certain prejudice against calling a television series a soap opera. As if melodrama, larger-than-life characters, and family feuds somehow make a story less worthy. Gilberto Braga never believed that. Neither does Taylor Sheridan. Which is why there may be no better comparison for the creator of Yellowstone: at heart, he is the Gilberto Braga of cowboys.

Like the legendary Brazilian writer behind Vale Tudo and Celebridade, Sheridan has built a universe where characters matter more than any individual plot. His stories are driven by family rivalries, impossible romances, inheritances, betrayals, revenge, and unforgettable villains. The formula is so recognizable that it has become his signature. It worked in Yellowstone, carried over into prequels 1883 and 1923, resurfaced in spiritual cousins such as Landman, and will likely return once again in Madison. It’s always the same story told through different faces. Like any great soap opera.

When Kevin Costner left Yellowstone, many assumed Sheridan’s empire might be in trouble. After all, John Dutton had been the patriarch and the gravitational center of the entire universe. But fan reactions revealed something interesting. By then, the show’s most beloved characters were no longer necessarily John himself, but rather his youngest son, Kayce Dutton, and, above all, the explosive couple formed by Beth Dutton and Rip Wheeler.

Played by Luke Grimes, Kayce occupied a fascinating position within the series. A war veteran, husband to Monica and father to Tate, he was often portrayed as the moral conscience of the Dutton family, even if he wasn’t always as honorable as the show sometimes suggested. A former Navy SEAL sniper, he killed to protect his family and spent years torn between the violence inherited from his surname and the simple life he wanted for himself. The character eventually “inherited” Marshals, a series that ironically proved popularity alone is not enough. Despite the affection audiences have for Kayce, the spin-off never found the same balance as the original.

Beth and Rip, however, were a completely different story. Kelly Reilly and Cole Hauser developed the kind of chemistry that only a handful of television couples ever achieve. Sweethearts since their teenage years, separated by circumstance and reunited decades later, they gradually became the emotional heart of Yellowstone. Yet calling them heroes would be impossible.

Beth spent the series destroying enemies, manipulating allies, and turning revenge into a way of life. One of the show’s most devastating storylines revealed that she lost the ability to have children because of a decision made by Jamie, a betrayal that fueled a Shakespearean war between the siblings for decades. Rip, meanwhile, may be both the most romantic and the most terrifying character in Sheridan’s universe. He would die for Beth without hesitation, but he also spent years serving as John Dutton’s loyal enforcer, committing numerous murders in the family’s name. Between them, the couple has left more bodies and committed more crimes than many television villains.

And yet — or perhaps because of that — audiences turned them into one of American television’s most beloved couples. Sheridan understands something Gilberto Braga knew as well: morally upright characters may be admirable, but contradictory characters are unforgettable.

The ending of Yellowstone proved controversial. John Dutton’s farewell and the resolutions involving Jamie, Beth, and Kayce divided viewers. But they also made one thing clear: there were still stories left to tell. And so Dutton Ranch was born.

Alongside Kelly Reilly and Cole Hauser, the spin-off brought together Ed Harris, Annette Bening, Natalie Alyn Lind, Jai Courtney, Juan Pablo Raba, and Finn Little. The premise was deliciously simple: Beth and Rip’s small ranch against the powerful 10 Petal Ranch, led by the imposing Vivienne Whitaker. It was Dynasty with horses.

For a few episodes, however, it seemed Sheridan was about to make a mistake. The rivalry between the ranches gradually gave way to uneasy alliances, and the central tension that made the series so enjoyable began to disappear. The show risked losing precisely what made it compelling.

But Sheridan, who understands the mechanics of melodrama better than almost anyone, appeared to recognize the problem. Recent episodes have brought back the genre’s classic ingredients: parties ending in tragedy, blackmail, troubled children, decades-old secrets, forbidden passions, broken alliances, and characters capable of switching sides in a heartbeat. The possible death of Vivienne Whitaker may become yet another game-changing twist destined to reshape the entire story.

Everything is exaggerated. Everything is familiar. Everything is ridiculously addictive.

Gilberto Braga understood that viewers never truly fell in love with the corporations of Vale Tudo, but with Odete Roitman. It wasn’t the magazine empire of Celebridade that mattered, but the rivalry between Maria Clara and Laura. In the same way, Yellowstone fans were never really invested in cattle, oil, or fences. They return week after week because of Beth, Rip, Kayce, and the enemies who cross their paths.

At the end of the day, Taylor Sheridan writes soap operas, and perhaps there is no greater compliment than that.