Fading golf star Lonnie Hawkins (Will Ferrell) attempts a comeback in the PGA Tour, competing with his son Lance (Jimmy Tatro) and old rival Golden Fisk (Owen Wilson).
Streaming on: Netflix
Episodes viewed: 10 of 10
“I’m from the early 2000s!” says Lonnie “The Hawk” Hawkins (Will Ferrell), by way of apology for his political incorrectness, in The Hawk. He certainly is. Everything about this Netflix series feels exactly like the sort of thing Ferrell might have appeared in 20 years ago: a frat-pack-adjacent goofy comedy, featuring Saturday Night Live veterans in the cast, a high-concept premise, juvenile humour, at least one Wilson brother — and at the heart of it, a big, brash, balls-out comic performance from Ferrell.
There’s a lot that feels familiar here. Like Talladega Nights, Semi Pro or Blades of Glory, Ferrell plays a goofy, guileless sports star vying for competitive redemption. Like Old School and Step Brothers, he is forced to contend with a smarmy bad guy (here played by SNL’s Chris Parnell). Like Anchorman’s Ron Burgundy, he gets a massive erection (and like that film’s Brian Fantana, he has nicknames for his testicles: Alanis and Morissette).
For the most part, [Will Ferrell’s] signature zaniness reigns supreme here, and your mileage may vary on that.
The Hawk is a classically Ferrellian creation, and the actor once again puts in a fearless, vanity-free performance. With his golf visor, chinstrap facial hair, insane tan line and penchant for talking to his golf balls (“Oh, you wanna go into outer space?”), he is a wild and unpredictable presence — he briefly gets his hand stuck in a pickle jar, and has sex on the ashes of his late best friend — as well as a rabid narcissist who completely sidelines his loved ones in favour of golf.
For the most part, the actor’s signature zaniness reigns supreme here, and your mileage may vary on that. But the tone occasionally finds room for other registers: sometime indie darling David Gordon Green directs a few episodes, lending it a gentle, easygoing charm. (Golf is a huge waste of time,” observes one character. “Best waste of time in the world”, responds The Hawk.) The show also holds a clear fondness for parking lots, tailgates and working-class Americana, in a nod to lovely 2024 doc Will & Harper (that film’s Harper Steele is a writer and co-creator here).
There’s half-decent stuff here. But with comedy’s centre of gravity shifting to the small screen these days, what might have once been a tight 90-minute feature now becomes a lengthy ten-episode 5-hour series, and it often drags, especially in the early episodes. Some strange subplots — Hawk’s ex-wife, played by Molly Shannon, spends a lot of time trying to sell her golf-branded alcoholic drink for some reason — puncture the comedic balloon a touch. Still, by the time the final episode swings around, The Hawk remembers some time-worn sports movie tropes with a climax that’s as sweet as it is stupid. Which is perhaps all it needs to do.
Will Ferrell’s answer to Happy Gilmore is as much bogey as it is birdie, but there are some tasteless treats to be had. Would have been better as a film, though.
