4 days ago
‘Stick' Review: Owen Wilson's Golf Comedy Takes Too Many Shortcuts Trying to Be ‘Ted Lasso'
Not all heartwarming sports comedies have to be compared to 'Ted Lasso' — the genre did exist before Jason Sudeikis' merry, mustachioed mentor professed 'fútbol is life' (like, say, in 1989 when 'Major League' featured the very same premise) — but 'Stick's' attempts to replicate the formula are impossible to ignore. There's the middle-aged coach who's out of his depth, taking an all-or-nothing shot on an unlikely star. There's the quick formation of a support team, the lingering family-related trauma, and the big, meaningful monologues. All the while, a tear-tugging soundtrack of white acoustic-rock underscores a redemption story found on the field but realized off it.
Part of the magic of 'Ted Lasso' comes from seeing a college football coach from Kansas prove his doubters wrong by turning his perceived weaknesses into irrefutable strengths. But Jason Keller's Apple TV+ series (yes, it's also an Apple show, as the streamer continues to build out its 'Ted Lasso' TV universe) can't pull off the same enchantment. The weaknesses of its coach, Pryce Cahill (Owen Wilson), are just that — weaknesses Pryce never really reckons with (be it gambling, anger, or repression), and weaknesses the show around him comes to embody, despite claiming they're strengths.
More from IndieWire
If She Chooses You, You're in: Melanie Lynskey on the Magic of Natasha Lyonne
Natasha Lyonne: The Maverick Behind the Madness
'Stick' takes too many shortcuts while speeding through a 10-episode first season that plays out exactly as you expect. Despite a talented ensemble (led by Wilson's whispery Southern charisma), too many characters never evolve beyond a single dimension, and too many sentimental turning points are taken for granted. The season may be a serviceable substitute until 'Ted Lasso' returns, but there's no mistaking this amateur imitation for its veteran inspiration.
So let's talk about Pryce Cahill, who starts the show having a tough time. You wouldn't know it from his cheery disposition, which he wields with such persistent affability he's not only able to flatter a suggestible pro shop customer into buying a $1,200 club he doesn't need, but he can also convince his distrusting boss to give him an advance on the commission. It's only when you see the state of his home (buckets of golf balls stacked precariously on unopened piles of mail, clothes hanging from kitchen cabinets, food containers scattered across every easily reachable surface) that you start to realize Pryce may not be the happy-go-lucky guy he presents to the world.
His ex-wife, Amber-Linn (Judy Greer, queen of the thankless wife and mother roles), is trying to sell their house, after giving Pryce two years to move out. His best friend, Mitts (Marc Maron), is mainly just an accomplice for low-stakes scams, and the rest of his past is a memory hole he's desperately avoiding and permanently trapped in. Pryce used to be a professional golfer — not just a golf pro, like he is now at a shabby course in Indiana, but an elite member of the PGA. He used to out-duel Tiger Woods and Vijay Singh, but a mid-round meltdown cost him his Tour card, and his life quickly unraveled from there.
'But wait,' you might be wondering, 'why did he melt down?' I'll let 'Stick' unveil that secret, but it shouldn't come as a surprise after Pryce latches onto a fatherless teenager with a once-in-a-generation swing. Santi (Peter Dager) has the pop and the precision to go pro, and seeing that potential wakes something up in Pryce. He's interested. He's motivated. He's in the game again (even though he doesn't actually play golf anymore — a supposedly telling decision 'Stick' treats loosely).
The first two episodes make quick work pairing player and coach, earning the trust of Santi's mom Elena (Mariana Treviño) and hitting the road to qualify for the Amateur Tour. Pryce even convinces Mitts, his former caddy, to come along after seeing Santi's swing for himself, and once Santi meets a 'nomad' named Zero (Lilli Kay), there's soon one more under-20 participant. ('Stick' really doesn't like Gen-Z, but such disdain doesn't fit the kindness vibe, so they quickly curtail Zero's initial onslaught of annoying overreactions.) The makeshift family now fully assembled, all that's left to do is watch Santi win matches so everyone can smile and bond and learn that winning isn't everything.
The golf itself is shot with much more movement than your typical ESPN broadcast, with pilot directors Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris utilizing slo-motion drone shots of long drives and high-definition close-ups of grass-shredding irons to make a low-key sport appear as fast-paced as possible. Paired with roaring rock songs (including everything from T. Rex to Beastie Boys), the scenes work well enough to get your competitive juices flowing, but even with some credibly clever shots (a 3-iron from 120-something yards late in the season is particularly inventive), the matches grow monotonous. There's only so many times you can watch Wilson gaze in wonder at a little white ball flying through the air.
It's hard to blame Keller for glossing over even Santi's most critical rounds, but the same need for speed doesn't apply once he steps off the 18th green. With the story, it too often feels like you're watching an average golfer on the 200th round at their local course: They know where the hole is, they know where the traps are, and they know the simplest way to avoid getting stuck is to play it safe. Each shot has been mapped out since the start, and there's little room for improvisation, let alone improvement.
'Stick's' title technically refers to Pryce's nickname (which just means he's a good golfer), but it also works as a descriptive verb: The show holds firm to what it is at the start, hoping its similarities to a better show ('Ted Lasso') and the inherent goodwill of its genial star are enough to earn viewers' affections. As a result, the character arcs are condensed, and the ensemble still feels like strangers by the end of the round. (Maron's lovable grump Mitts is particularly short-changed.)
Anyone pre-sold on its premise may find 'Stick' to be nice enough, but for all the hype over 'Ted Lasso's' radical kindness, that's not all that made the show shine. (You know, at least for the first two seasons.) It was a funny idea (underscored with plenty of jokes), it cared about its characters, and it savored both.
One of TV's greatest strengths is time, and while no one needs another bloated streaming series (please don't let 'Stick' Season 2 swell to the length of 'Ted Lasso' Season 3), there's no shortcut to a genuine connection. You need to put in the time, the care, and the attention — which is also how you improve your golf game, not that Santi would know. (He never practices. It's… insane.) The old saying goes, 'Golf is a good walk spoiled,' but 'Stick' spoils a good game by sprinting through it. Ted Lasso would never.
'Stick' premieres Wednesday, June 4 on Apple TV+ with three episodes. New episodes will be released weekly through July 23.
Best of IndieWire
The 25 Best Alfred Hitchcock Movies, Ranked
Every IndieWire TV Review from 2020, Ranked by Grade from Best to Worst
