What if minorities helped billionaires become better people?
That’s a tad reductive, but the basic premise of “Running Point,” a fictionalized take on the life of Los Angeles Lakers co-owner Jeanie Buss, is little more than a combination of “Succession” and “Ted Lasso” (with a tiny dash of “Arrested Development”), only, this time, the rich people just need a little help from the Hispanic, Asian, and Black people around them to become kinder, more human versions of their avaricious selves.
It’s not all bad though. For a show hellbent on whitewashing the clearly sociopathic behaviors of sports team owners, “Running Point” is frequently funny. Co-created by Mindy Kaling, “Running Point” stars when Los Angeles Waves president Cam Gordon (Justin Theroux) fumbles his crack pipe while driving and crashes into a restaurant. En route to rehab, he promotes his sister Isla (a game Kate Hudson, playing a likable version of her “Glass Onion” character Birdie Jay) from the philanthropy department to his former job. Though she’s a washed-up party girl who posed nude for Playboy, Isla knows more about basketball than her idiot brothers Sandy (Drew Tarver) and Ness (Scott MacArthur, the funniest cast member by far). Her new title is met with derision by the sports news industrial complex, the Internet, and the team itself. Like any girlboss, she has her work cut out for her.
Let’s get into the minorities who are going to help Isla become the best version of herself: Alice Lee (Brenda Song) is Isla’s chief of staff and is in charge of calming her down and pepping her up. Jay Brown (Jay Ellis) is the Waves’ driven, Buddhist coach, whose interactions with Isla cause her to reflect on the importance of being a present parent. But Fabrizio Guido has perhaps the most questionable role as Jackie Moreno, a Waves concessions vendor who learns that his late mother, a housekeeper, had an affair with late Waves owner Jack Gordon; he is therefore half-brother to Isla, Cam, and Ness. Thrilled by the prospect of having siblings, he turns down a payout of $2 million and an NDA for the chance to bond with the Gordons, who, aside from Isla, are slow to warm to the idea, but, as you might expect, learn a lot from their brown brother about being a loving family. This did actually happen to Buss and her siblings, but in real life, the sibling was white. Guido doesn’t have a Mexican accent, so for Jackie to have a strong one is a creative decision about as insightful and culturally attuned as Apu Nahasapeemapetilon.
Compared to Kaling projects “The Sex Lives of College Girls” and “Velma,” “Running Point” has a far more consistent tone, though that isn’t saying much. When the writing gets predictable or the pace lags, it’s the performers who do the heavy lifting. Co-creators Elaine Ko, David Stassen, and Ike Barinholtz are credited as writers and directors on multiple episodes, but the latter’s voice stands out. Ness is clearly modeled on Barinholtz’s comedic tone, and the character’s emotional intelligence and madcap vulnerability is a fun twist on the seemingly narcissistic middle-aged man. Theroux, too, is startlingly good as a psychopath whose serene yet evangelical commitment to drugs is a dependable source of comedy. Tarver does his best to bring some life to nebbish half-brother Drew, who is openly gay but conceals his year-long relationship from his siblings; the character, sadly, is underwritten, as is Max Greenfield’s role as Lev Levenson, Isla’s supportive and kind pediatrician fiancé, who is looking forward to finally marrying his lady love after she converts to Judaism. Ellis shines, as he always does, as a successful leader who struggles, mostly privately, with making enough time to be a good father to his daughters post-divorce.
Perhaps the best and most believable performance, however, belongs to none other than Chet Hanks playing Chet Hanks. As Waves player and Florida native Travis Bugg, he tempers the headache-inducing braggadocio of a professional athlete with occasional melancholy. When the team’s star player Marcus Winfield (Toby Sandeman, delightfully low-key) takes him to task over his attitude, Travis humbly confesses, “You’re headed for the Hall of Fame. Best thing I can hope for is expanding my brand and getting a Victoria’s Secret model pregnant.”
When it comes to structure, Kaling’s series have struggled with transitions, editing, and directing choices. Almost every scene of “Running Point” is littered with nonstop edits; even a 30-minute sitcom can let a scene breathe without constantly cutting away to another character. Establishing shots feel inconsequential, almost plastic, featuring bland drone shots of exterior Los Angeles. “Insecure,” a comedy set in the same city, proved that such shots can be interesting and human, providing color and texture to the narrative.
By the end of its 10-episode first season, the series, though it often scores laughs, starts to feel like propaganda designed to improve the public’s perception of billionaires, team owners specifically. (Given the recent fury over the Dallas Mavericks trading their generational player Luka Doncic to the Lakers, the breezy, silly tone of “Running Point” may put a bad taste in the mouths of basketball fans.) Given that Buss is credited as an executive producer on the series, and that Ness laughs off a Waves dancer’s request for health insurance, it’s not hard to guess where Kaling & co. stand.
Entire season screened for review. Now on Netflix.
