What happens when a TV show set in oil-soaked West Texas dares its cast to sound like locals? Buckle up, because that’s when accent wizard Jessica Drake steps onto the scene — and demonstrates why her reputation among actors is, frankly, legendary. “Landman” Season 2 owes much of its Texas twang and Spanish slang to Drake, who transformed Ali Larter, Michelle Randolph, and the rest of the ensemble into true-blooded West Texans — at least, in the ears of fans who know the difference between a Houston drawl and a Midland mumble.
Meet the Maestro Behind the Microphone
Jessica Drake did not stroll into “Landman” from some secondary acting workshop. Nope. She’s got credentials thicker than a Texas ribeye. Juilliard-trained, seriously — a school synonymous with serious business. Her career spans more than three decades. When Hollywood (and Taylor Sheridan) need dialects that ring true, they dial Drake’s number. And for good reason! This is the talent who brought nuance to “Forrest Gump’s” speech, riveted us in “The Walking Dead,” and helped “Yellowstone” punch the Western mythos straight in the mouth.
But “Landman” asks for something different than Montana’s open prairies. West Texas, with its oil-patch patois, is a stew of Southern, Mexican, and old settler. One slip, and you sound like you’re faking it. But Jessica? She doesn’t let anyone phone it in.
Cracking the West Texas Code
So how do you train actors to sound like they grew up working oil derricks by day, slinging Spanglish at Whataburger drive-thrus at night? According to Drake’s revelations in her interviews — and her behind-the-scenes approach gleaned from her time at Juilliard — it’s a science and an art.
- She breaks down the “basic sounds” first, phoneme by phoneme.
- Dialect sessions aren’t just about accent; they are about rhythm and attitude, too.
- Drake’s ear can separate Midland from Amarillo — and she knows Spanish slang looks different in the Permian Basin than it does in South Texas.
For “Landman,” she drew from research, field recordings, and that old-school Skinnerian phonetics training passed down at Juilliard. Her students there included not just anxious undergrads, but also global superstars who later led major series.
Ali Larter Finds Her Texas
Ali Larter stepped into the boots (and tumultuous life) of Angela Norris, who’s more than just Tommy’s ex-wife. In interviews, Larter calls Angela a “total spitfire” and explains that her storyline shows “the reverse engineering of a trophy wife.” There’s grit here. And that meant Larter had to lose her regular voice and find Angela’s drawl.
But the accent had to stay sharp, subtle, and rooted. No parodic y’all-and-honey showboating. Drake, working with Larter off-script and on, drilled the rolling Rs and clipped vowels native to the West Texas region. Larter confides the process wasn’t easy. Days stretched long, and the stakes soared. “Very long and arduous,” in her own words. Yet Drake’s coaching helped Larter step out not just with the words, but the swagger and world-weariness of a woman reclaiming her space. When Angela speaks, she sounds like someone who could stare down a rig foreman or talk back to an oil exec — because that’s the real deal.
Michelle Randolph: Restless Energy, Real Roots
And then there’s Michelle Randolph, who plays Ainsley Norris, a restless force on the verge of adulthood. Taylor Sheridan spotted her talent, but getting Ainsley’s local flare wasn’t just about wardrobe or attitude — it started with her voice. Drake got Randolph into the swing of that West Texan soundtrack early.
What’s more, the show did not shy away from Spanish. In West Texas, Spanish slang flavors every neighborhood, every backyard barbecue, and every oil patch. Drake worked closely with Randolph on both accent and cadence. Randolph’s gratitude for Sheridan’s trust comes through, but make no mistake, she credits Drake’s dialect drills for making her feel fully at home in Ainsley’s boots. Thanks to Drake, Randolph doesn’t just say the words — she sells the spirit. “Taylor Sheridan takes chances,” Randolph says, and because of Drake’s coaching, those chances pay off with grounded, acutely real performances.
Spanish Slang: Keeping it Real, Not Ridiculous
Real talk — accents aren’t everything. Authenticity goes out the window if the Spanish lines drop like clichés or come off as forced. “Landman” avoids that trap largely because of Drake’s dedication to genuine representation. She knows that in places like Midland-Odessa, bilingual banter isn’t optional. It’s survival language.
How did she make sure nobody fumbled the Spanglish? She drew not just on phonetics but on lived local stories and field audio. Drake provided actors with actual recordings from the area — no YouTube stereotypes allowed. Corrections were kind but firm: if the Spanish slang didn’t sound like something you’d hear at a Pecos gas station, she sent the cast back to rehearsal.
- No mangled “gracias” or over-pronounced “amigos”—just the real deal, the way those phrases fall off the tongue around the Permian Basin.
- Drake’s approach kept conversations genuine and didn’t sugarcoat the imperfect, hybrid lingo that rules the oilfields.
Behind the Oil, Beyond the Script
Let’s not forget the culture clash that made all this accent business so vital. “Landman” isn’t some sanitized network drama. The pressure on set sometimes bubbled over. Ali Larter remembers every filming day “was very high stakes.” That tension didn’t just stay off-camera. Characters onscreen had to talk — and clash — like actual locals, with the weight of a boom-or-bust economy behind their every syllable.
So, Jessica Drake didn’t only teach pronunciations. She guided actors through the rhythms of small-town gossip, the swagger of oil barons, and the rapid-fire Spanglish of borderland teens. When the script called for a standoff in a diner or a whispered argument in a shadowy bar, Drake was never far away, ready to fine-tune a vowel or tame a straying consonant.
The Secret Sauce: Phonetics, Shakespeare, and Gumption
Jessica Drake didn’t stumble into her career. She trained with Edith Skinner — legendary in the world of performance phonetics. Drake knows her Shakespeare, her Chekhov, and, apparently, every variation of “fixin’ to” one might overhear between Big Spring and Sanderson. This isn’t academic. It’s practical. She blends Skinner’s discipline with her own fieldwork, crafting dialect sessions that actors want to attend.
She’s quick, too. Drake’s been quoted explaining she can size up and help an actor with their accent in a single sitting. Her work on set is visible — sometimes she’s pacing behind the monitor, sometimes correcting lines in real time. For “Landman,” that kind of attention to detail is pure gold.
Sheridan’s Sharp Bet on Authenticity
Taylor Sheridan didn’t want a show that sounded like California pretending to be Texas. He asked Drake to get in there and cut the cultural distance down to zero. And wow, did she deliver! Whether it’s commanding the room with Ali Larter’s razor-edged dialogue or transforming Michelle Randolph’s lines into something any Midland native might overhear, Jessica Drake forces “Landman” to sound like the real West — gritty, complex, impossible to fake.
The Final Word: Why We Care About All This Twang
So, here’s where we land. Next time you’re kicking back, soaking up the dusty drama of “Landman” Season 2, remember: that Texas sound didn’t just happen. Jessica Drake made it real. Thanks to her, the show hums with authenticity. The slang, the drawls, the rolled Rs — they’re all so convincing you could swear you smelled crude oil and mesquite on the breeze. And with local pride on the line, nothing less would’ve cut it.
Tune in. Listen close. With Drake at the wheel, “Landman” isn’t performing Texas — it’s living it, one painstaking, pitch-perfect syllable at a time.
