‘Taylor Sheridan’s Shows Are Bonanza on Steroids!’ 6 Classic Western TV Shows Every ‘Yellowstone’ Fan Needs To Watch

For decades, the Western has lived a cyclical existence in American entertainment. It rises, it fades, and then—just when it feels like it’s been left behind—it rides again. From the dominance of Western TV shows like Gunsmoke, Bonanza and The Virginian in the 1950s and ’60s to the genre’s gradual decline in the decades that followed, Westerns have often felt like relics of another era. But more recently, something unexpected has happened: they’ve come roaring back. And according to Western historian and A Word on Westerns host Rob Word, much of that resurgence can be traced directly to one man: Taylor Sheridan.

“It’s a welcome surprise,” Word says. “What has happened in my lifetime—I grew up in the heyday of TV Westerns—is that it’s been hills and valleys since then. And sometimes those valleys last a long time.”

For years, the genre would briefly return thanks to projects like Dances with Wolves, Unforgiven or Lonesome Dove, only to fade again. “But what’s unusual about this particular time,” he continues, “is Taylor Sheridan. Because of the broad reach of his multiple shows, people are discovering the West.”

But what Sheridan has done isn’t just revive the Western—he’s reshaped how audiences experience it. And in doing so, he’s also pointed viewers back to the classics that laid the groundwork.

Why Sheridan’s Westerns feel different

Part of Sheridan’s success comes from how he’s evolved the traditional Western hero. “I think it goes back to why people like Westerns,” Word explains. “You’ve got somebody who is in control—a patriarch, a matriarch, whatever it’s going to be. In the traditional Western, the hero would make a decision and go forward with it, and it was always the right decision. Now you’ve got his heroes and they’re darker. There’s no clear-cut good guy and bad guy. They have good elements about them, but they’re complicated.”

That shift from mythic heroes to morally complicated figures is a big part of what’s brought in a new audience. “In not just Yellowstone, but the prequel series as well, it’s about the land—it’s about keeping control of the family property,” he adds. “I think people are watching these shows more for the characters than the Western setting. It just happens to be set in the West. It’s like Dallas—it’s a primetime soap opera.”

And that’s the key. Because if you look back, those same elements—land, power and family—have always been at the heart of the Western. Sheridan just refined them.

Western TV shows that echo ‘Yellowstone’

What Sheridan has done is modernize a formula that classic television helped define. If Yellowstone pulled you into the genre, these shows reveal just how deep those roots go.

‘Bonanza’ (1959-1973)

If you’re looking for the closest thing to Yellowstone in classic television, Bonanza is probably your answer. At the center of the show was the Cartwright family, led by Lorne Greene’s Ben Cartwright, who ran the sprawling Ponderosa ranch. Right there, you’ve already got the core of the comparison: a powerful family, a massive piece of land and a constant need to defend both from outside threats.

But what really makes Bonanza feel familiar isn’t just the setting, it’s the dynamic. Each episode might have had its own story, but running underneath it all was an ongoing sense of responsibility. Ben wasn’t just managing land; he was holding a family together, guiding his sons and dealing with the kind of moral and practical decisions that came with being the one in charge.

“Sheridan’s shows are Bonanza on steroids,” laughs Word. “In Bonanza, you had Pa and then you had the sons, Adam, Hoss and Little Joe—well-defined, good people. Well, Ben Cartwright becomes John Dutton in Yellowstone and everybody’s dysfunctional, but it’s the same umbrella of family.”

Of course, Bonanza played things differently. It leaned more into clear moral lessons and resolution by the end of each episode, where Yellowstone is far more serialized and willing to sit in the gray areas. Still, the foundation is hard to miss.

‘The Big Valley’ (1965-1969)

If Bonanza feels like the closest match to Yellowstone, The Big Valley might be the most interesting one. On the surface, it checks many of the same boxes: a wealthy family, a massive ranch and constant conflict from both outside forces and within the family itself. But what sets it apart is who’s in charge.

Instead of a patriarch, you’ve got Barbara Stanwyck’s Victoria Barkley—a widowed matriarch running the entire operation. And she’s not just a symbolic figurehead. She’s tough, decisive and deeply involved in everything from business decisions to family disputes. That difference speaks directly to what Word identifies as a key element of Western storytelling.

Says Word, “Because Bonanza was so successful, we had not quite spinoffs, but variations of it. You have Victoria Barkley in The Big Valley. Well, she’s Ben Cartwright, she’s John Dutton. And then there are her kids: Jared, Richard Long as the lawyer; Peter Breck is the hotheaded Nick; and then you’ve got Audrey, the daughter played by Linda Evans, and you introduce Heath, the bastard son played by Lee Majors. Well, that’s an interesting collection of people. Obviously, they’re a little darker than the young kids on Bonanza.”

Like Bonanza, it’s more episodic than Yellowstone, but the DNA is unmistakable: power tied to land, family loyalty constantly tested, and the sense that everything could unravel if the wrong decision is made.

‘The High Chaparral’ (1967-1971)

Another series Rob Word points to is The High Chaparral, which took the Western in a slightly different—and notably darker—direction. Created by David Dortort, the series can be seen as a deliberate evolution of what he had done with Bonanza. Set in the Arizona Territory, it followed rancher Big John Cannon (Leif Erickson), a widowed patriarch trying to hold together both his land and his family. On the surface, that setup feels familiar. But from the beginning, the show carried a different kind of weight.

Where many Westerns framed the frontier as a battle to be won, The High Chaparral often treated it as a place where cultures collided—and, at times, found ways to coexist. That idea was built directly into the premise, as Big John marries into a neighboring Mexican family, bringing Linda Cristal’s Victoria Montoya into the story. More than adding romance, the relationship introduces cultural tension, alliance and a broader perspective on life in the West than many of its contemporaries explored.

At the same time, the internal dynamics were more troubled than audiences were used to. Big John’s brother (Cameron Mitchell) is portrayed as an alcoholic and a morally ambiguous figure, while his son Blue is a conflicted, emotionally tormented teenager. These aren’t the clean-cut, morally upright characters of a show like Bonanza. They’re messier and more complicated, which is exactly the point.

“These characters were darker than the Cartwrights,” says Word, “and like Sheridan does, it’s an old ranch family Western, but he turns the conflicts up and we see different sides of them.”

‘Gunsmoke’ (1955-1975)

If Bonanza is the closest structural match to Yellowstone, Gunsmoke might be its closest spiritual ancestor. Running for 20 seasons and anchored by James Arness as Marshal Matt Dillon, it became one of the most dominant Westerns in television history. But its real legacy lies in how it changed the tone of the genre.

What Gunsmoke brought to television was a sense of grit and adult storytelling that stood apart from many of its contemporaries. The conflicts weren’t always simple, the resolutions weren’t always easy and the characters often had to live with difficult choices. That’s where it lines up with Yellowstone.

“Here, too, is the umbrella of family,” Word points out. “And you can certainly say that Gunsmoke represents a family with Matt Dillon, Ms. Kitty, Doc, Chester and Festus. They were the family unit on Gunsmoke.”

‘The Virginian’ (1962-1971)

If there’s a classic Western that feels closest to Yellowstone in tone, it may be The Virginian. Set on the Shiloh Ranch and starring James Drury, the series followed a working ranch environment with a more introspective edge than many Westerns of the era. Episodes often took their time, leaning into character and consequence rather than quick resolution. Actions had weight and choices lingered. The approach feels strikingly modern.

It’s also worth noting that The Virginian ran for 90 minutes per episode—unusual for the time—which gave it room to explore characters and conflicts in greater depth. In many ways, it anticipated the kind of storytelling that defines today’s prestige television. At the same time, as Rob Word points out, the show functioned a little differently than its contemporaries.

“The Virginian is an interesting case,” he says. “You had Lee J. Cobb initially running the ranch, even though the Virginian himself was the central character. He was younger and handled most of the action, which made it a little different from the other shows.”

On series like Bonanza, The Big Valley or Gunsmoke, you had very clear authority figures—Ben Cartwright, Victoria Barkley, Matt Dillon—who served as the unquestioned center of power. On The Virginian, that dynamic was more spread out. The title character wasn’t quite the “king” in the same way those figures were, which subtly shifted the storytelling.

Word also points to the show’s unique production model. “The episodes were longer—about 72 minutes to fit into a 90-minute time slot—so they played more like movies,” he explains. “You had continuing lead characters, but the plots often felt more self-contained.”

That structure, combined with a demanding production schedule (sometimes nearing 39 episodes a year) meant multiple crews working simultaneously to keep up. The result was a series that balanced character continuity with standalone storytelling, often drawing on a more traditional, film-inspired approach. And that’s where The Virginian diverges from the Taylor Sheridan model. While Yellowstone thrives on serialized, long-form storytelling, The Virginian remained largely episodic. But in its tone and its willingness to slow down, to explore consequence and to let characters sit with their decisions, it feels surprisingly ahead of its time.

‘Dallas’ (1978-1991)

One of the most fascinating effects of Sheridan’s success is what happens after viewers discover his shows: they start looking backward. “The characters bring people into it,” Word says. “And those of us who already loved Westerns—that was a smaller group when he started, but it’s expanding now. I’m seeing younger people tuning in to A Word on Westerns.”

Which is also indicative of something deeper at play. Adds Word, “You pick up a magazine, you look at commercials—people are wearing cowboy hats again. People see corruption and chaos, and then they watch these older Westerns where the good guy wins. There is law and order, and there is a wonderful feeling of satisfaction in that. Taylor Sheridan, I do believe, is responsible for most of that. Each of his shows seems to be a success. He’s like Dick Wolf with his Law & Order franchise. He’s created a wonderful franchise that is so satisfying to those of us who love the Western genre.

“I just find it fascinating that all of these shows we talked about, with Bonanza and Gunsmoke and all of that, sort of play an influence on Taylor Sheridan,” he closes, “and then Taylor Sheridan turns around and has an influence on the Western genre like this. I love it feeding itself, basically, with people going back to old Westerns because of the success of Taylor Sheridan.”

Copyright 2026 A360 Media

This story was originally published April 23, 2026 at 8:00 AM.