Whether it’s the high school gridiron, the hallowed grounds of a baseball diamond, or the hardwood floors where three-point shots are made, sports have always been a rich vein for filmmakers to mine. Movies and TV shows have long sought to capture not just the thrills of the game, but the drama of the players, the coaches, and the teams themselves. Sometimes the lens focuses on melodramatic inner-city struggles, while other times it zooms out to reveal the offbeat antics of an underdog squad. In either case, audiences love a good sports story. Enter Running Point, a new comedy from the creative minds behind Only Murders in the Building, Modern Family, The Office, and The Studio; Elaine Ko, Mindy Kaling, and Ike Barinholtz. The show follows the Los Angeles Lakers-esque Waves, a once-glorious basketball team now under the control of its first female owner, Isla Gordon, played by the ever-charismatic Kate Hudson.
At its heart, Running Point is a mix of zany humor, romantic entanglements, and the occasional jolt of vulgarity; a cocktail that recalls Entourage’s glitzy Hollywood antics, the underdog spirit of Eddie (starring Whoopi Goldberg), and the quirky charm of Ted Lasso. The premise is both fresh and familiar: Isla, a former centerfold-turned-philanthropist with a history of scandals, is thrust into a high-stakes world where her family’s dysfunction mirrors that of the team she now owns. While the show’s first season offers a few sharp comedic moments and glimpses of heart, it struggles to find a consistent tonal rhythm. As is often the case with a new series, there’s an identity crisis at play; does Running Point want to be a wacky sitcom or an earnest exploration of a woman defying the odds in a male-dominated world? Or perhaps, as the show’s frequent shifts in tone suggest, it wants to be both.
To be fair, even beloved comedies like The Office and Parks and Recreation didn’t hit their stride until their second or third seasons, so it’s not entirely out of the question that Running Point will find its footing in time. For now, the first season is a patchwork of sharp satire, biting humor, and characters that are as hard to love as they are to hate. The show’s ensemble cast, led by Hudson’s Isla, leans into the farce of rich, entitled siblings trying to make sense of their father’s failed legacy. Her brothers, Sandy (Drew Tarver), a closeted accountant, and Ness (Scott MacArthur), a man-child with a heart of gold, form the dysfunctional core of the Waves’ ownership team. The family drama kicks off in the first episode when their brother, Cam (Justin Theroux), crashes his car in a drug-induced stupor, sending him to rehab and leaving Isla to steer the team out of the chaos.
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From there, the laughs are quick and plentiful, fueled by Isla’s attempts to prove herself in the face of constant doubt; from players, coaches, and even her own brothers. The show dives into the absurdities of sponsorships, trades, and egos on display in the world of professional sports, though the actual game of basketball takes a backseat to the behind-the-scenes machinations. The lack of basketball action, while not necessarily a dealbreaker, does undercut the sense of authenticity the show could have had if it leaned more into the sport itself. Instead, Running Point relies on the improbable premise of Isla transforming a failing team into a contender by simply being the “woman in charge.”
As if to raise the stakes, the show introduces a twist that feels straight out of a soap opera: the revelation that Isla’s father had an affair with a young Mexican woman, leading to the existence of a half-brother, Jackie (Fabrizio Guido), who now works concessions at the team’s stadium. This addition adds another layer of melodrama to an already complicated family dynamic, though the inclusion of Jackie also feels somewhat forced, like a plot point in search of meaning.
But it’s not just the larger-than-life personalities that make Running Point a curious watch. The characters, despite their flaws, occasionally shine through the chaos. Hudson is predictably excellent, walking the tightrope between vulnerability and ruthless ambition. Tarver and MacArthur are a perfect odd couple, bringing humor and heart to their roles. Their performances are enough to make one root for them, even if the show itself hasn’t yet figured out if we should. In particular, MacArthur’s Ness, with his awkward emotional outbursts, offers some of the most touching moments in an otherwise frenetic series.
Yet, as much as the show leans into its quirky characters, some of the plot twists and jokes verge on the abrasive. Isla’s boyfriend, Lev (Max Greenfield), a man whose main contribution seems to be offering awkward commentary, doesn’t add much depth to the proceedings. And then there’s Travis Bugg (Chet Hanks), the egocentric player who wants to trade his jersey for a rap career. His character teeters dangerously close to caricature.
Ultimately, Running Point is a fun diversion, one that promises much but hasn’t quite figured out how to be more than the sum of its chaotic parts. The potential is there: it has all the makings of a binge-worthy dramedy if it can land on the right tone and find a clearer direction. As it stands, Running Point is like a buzzer-beater that misses the mark; a promising start that could one day land a championship, but only if it dares to make the right play.
