Forget ‘The Walking Dead,’ This 111-Minute Thriller Is a Paramount+ Sleeper Hit

Published Sep 12, 2026, 11:30 AM EDT

Rohan Naahar is a News Writer for Collider. From Francois Ozon to David Fincher, he’ll watch anything once. He has covered everything from Marvel to the Oscars, and Marvel at the Oscars. He also writes obsessively about the box office, charting the many hits and misses that are released weekly, and how their commercial performance shapes public perception. In his time at Collider, he has also helped drive diversity by writing stories about the multiple Indian film industries, with a goal of introducing audiences to a whole new world of cinema.

The evolution of A24 from an indie outfit to a thriving studio that releases mid-budget genre movies has been well-documented. A24 is now gearing up to release its biggest movie yet, an adaptation of the Elden Ring video game, produced on a reported budget of more than $100 million. At the same time, another studio that specializes in niche programming has had its own journey. We’re talking about Angel Studios, which initially limited itself to faith-based movies targeted at a largely neglected audience, but has now ventured into more mainstream fare. This week, Angel released the Alan Ritchson and Owen Wilson-led action movie Runner, and later this year, it will debut the biblical epic Zero A. D.: The Birth of Christ. In recent years, Angel witnessed box office success with animated movies such as The King of Kings and David.

Meanwhile, several of the studio’s earlier releases have been drawing large audiences on home-video services. Among its most recent word-of-mouth hits on streaming is a 2024 release that grossed $20 million against a reported budget of $8 million. The movie in question, a post-apocalyptic thriller starring Yellowstone and Tulsa King alum Neal McDonough, received mixed reviews, but like many Angel Studios releases, was embraced by audiences. It now holds a 43% critics’ score and a 71% audience score on the aggregator website Rotten Tomatoes.

The show that claimed the most of your answers is the world you were built for. If two tied, both are shown — you’re complicated enough to straddle two Sheridan universes.

You are a Dutton — or you might as well be. You understand that some things are worth protecting at any cost, and that the modern world’s indifference to history, to land, to legacy, is not something you’re willing to accept quietly. You lead from the front, you carry your family’s weight without complaint, and when someone threatens what’s yours, you don’t escalate — you finish it. You’re not cruel. But you are absolute. In Yellowstone’s world, that combination of ferocity and loyalty doesn’t make you a villain. It makes you the only thing standing between everything that matters and everyone who wants to take it.

You thrive in the chaos of high-stakes negotiation, where the money is enormous, the margins are thin, and the wrong word in the wrong room can cost everyone everything. You’re a fixer — the person called when a situation is already on fire and needs someone with the nerve to walk into it. West Texas oil country rewards exactly what you are: sharp, adaptable, unsentimental, and absolutely clear-eyed about what people want and what they’ll do to get it. You’re not naive enough to think this world is fair. You’re smart enough to be the one deciding who it’s fair to.

You are a Dwight Manfredi — someone who has served their time, paid their dues, and arrived somewhere unexpected with nothing but their reputation and their wits. You adapt without losing yourself. You build loyalty through respect rather than fear, though you’re not above reminding people that the two aren’t mutually exclusive. Tulsa King is for people who are still standing when everyone assumed they’d be finished — who find, in an unfamiliar place, that they’re more capable than the world gave them credit for. You don’t need a throne. You build one, wherever you happen to land.

You carry the weight of a system that is broken by design, and you do it anyway — because someone has to, and because you’re the only one positioned to do it without the whole thing collapsing. Mike McLusky’s world is for people who are comfortable operating where there are no good options, only less catastrophic ones. You speak every language: law enforcement, criminal, political, human. That fluency makes you invaluable and it makes you a target. You’ve made your peace with both. Mayor of Kingstown belongs to people who understand that keeping the peace is not the same as being at peace — and who do the job regardless.

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