Mrs. Hatboy and I sat down to watch this little series of semi-interconnected mini-movies on Netflix over the past couple of nights, and … well, what a strange and compelling set of stories it was.

Right from the start, this was WTFery of the highest calibre.

I was baffled. I didn’t know what I was seeing and hearing, but dang if I didn’t like it. All of the stories were marvellously shot, very scenic and painstakingly framed, a genuine masterclass … and the plots and dialogue were simply surreal. Violent, shocking, confronting, and brutal, this was a classic Western with the darkness turned up to eleven, and then all the other colours turned up to twelve just to keep it fun. And it … was really quite thought-provoking. I’m sitting here, still trying to figure out what the heck was going on in half of the stories. So what else is new, right?

“First time?” Heh.

By the time we got about halfway through, we were just about used to the format. The interesting framing of illustrated colour plate and storybook, and the ending of the film-segment to match, was very clever. And the shockingly abrupt onset of violence was at once startling and very, very funny.

Or in Liam Neeson’s case, absolutely expected and yet wow Jesus fucking Christ that was dark.

Best dialogue, I would have to award to the final segment although the very first also had some wonderful lines. And there were some excellent performances by some very well-known actors, and some equally great performances by (to me at least) unknowns.

Yep, no idea what was happening here, except Mrs. Hatboy and I decided that they were definitely dead all along or something. And the authentic frontier gibberish spoken by the trapper was superb.

Also there was a bunch of deeper shit going on, of course, some of which I spotted and some I didn’t. Always more going on beneath the surface, I like that – particularly in a Western setting, for some reason. Maybe because of the Dark Tower stories.

And oh my fucking God, that was Dudley Dursley?

Worth a watch, I think, but not exactly light-and-fun evening viewing. Depending on your definition of either. I’ll award The Ballad of Buster Scruggs a wagon, a tumbleweed, three mesas and two hundred head o’ cattle out of a possible Cowboy Heaven.