Paramount+’s Tulsa King, Taylor Sheridan’s sun-scorched mobster masterpiece starring Sylvester Stallone as the gravel-voiced gangster Dwight “The General” Manfredi, thunders back for Season 3 on September 21, 2025, a 10-episode turf war that’s already racked 21.1 million global premiere viewers and a preemptive S4 renewal (announced September 17), outgunning Sons of Anarchy‘s S1 debut and spiking subs 25%. Stallone’s Dwight, unceremoniously unloaded in Oklahoma after 25 years in the clink for a murder he “didn’t mind,” has bootstrapped a ragtag crew from weed-whiz Tyson (Jay Will) to fiery fixer Grace (Andrea Savage) into a protection racket powerhouse, but S3’s stakes skyrocket with Samuel L. Jackson as Russell Lee Washington Jr., Dwight’s smooth-talking prison pal turned Renzetti hitman dispatched to “take care of business.” “It’s epic,” fans frenzy on X (4.5 million posts premiere week), “Sopranos with shotguns and Sheridan spice – unputdownable!” Jackson’s multi-episode arc bridges to the greenlit NOLA King spinoff, where Russell rules New Orleans’ Crescent City carnage.
The showdown’s savage: Episode 1’s barn-burner opener sees Dwight dodging a drive-by at his strip club, Russell’s bourbon smile and silenced Beretta slithering in with “Ghost from the canteen, General?” Jackson’s Russell? A pulp-fiction phantom, his Oscar-nominated snarl (“Ain’t nobody seen that comin'”) oozing danger and double-cross. Stallone’s Dwight? A diamond in the dustbowl, his Italian growl grinding grit (“Tulsa’s my town – New York can kiss my ring”), juggling Grace’s glow-up (pregnant with his kid?) and Tyson’s tech tweaks to launder loot. New blood boils: Robert Patrick’s Jeremiah Dunmire, the “Tyrant of Tulsa” oil baron with old-money malice; Kevin Pollak’s Musso, the FBI puppet-master; Bella Heathcote’s Cleo Montague, a seductive solicitor stirring sabotage; Beau Knapp’s Cole Dunmire, the heir-apparent hothead; James Russo’s Quiet Ray Renzetti, the NYC don’s silent storm. Terence Winter (Sopranos) and Dave Erickson (Sons) sharpen Sheridan’s script, directors Craig Zisk and Allen Coulter cranking chaos with dust-choked dust-ups and drone-shot showdowns.
Plot propulsion? Paranoia on the prairie: Dwight’s “empire expands, enemies explode,” from pot raids to rig riggings, as Russell’s “reunion” reeks of regime change – betrayals brewing bourbon bombs, heists hijacking helicopters, a mid-season massacre that makes Sopranos‘ Jersey jets look like joyrides. Variety venerates the “propulsive paranoia,” The Hollywood Reporter hails “Stallone’s slyest since Rocky,” Jackson’s “menacing mirth” a Sopranos soulmate. EW dings the “dated drag,” but fans feast: “Bigger than BB – Sheridan’s savage!” Skeptics? “Stallone’s shtick stalls,” but the 1-in-2 heist-to-heartbreak ratio hooks, per Nielsen outgunning Lioness‘s launch.
This isn’t mobster mush; it’s a merciless maelstrom, Tulsa King‘s Oklahoma odyssey a reminder that exile breeds empires – and enemies. Dwight’s dominion? Daring. Russell’s ruse? Ruthless. September 21? Not a premiere – a prairie powder keg. Binge it; the betrayals blister, the showdowns scorch. Stallone and Jackson? No Sopranos shadows – they’re sun-baked savages, redefining ruthless. Trust us: This kingdom’s conquest? Cataclysmic.
