As a millennial who grew up watching “SNL” in the years that Will Ferrell rose through its ranks, I’m always ready to dive head-first into any of his new projects. (My “Old School” viewings alone have probably hit triple digits by now, and my love for “Eurovision Song Contest” grows exponentially every time I hear “Jaja Ding Dong.”) So know that I take absolutely no joy in saying that “The Hawk” is one huge swing and a miss for the comedy vet. And no joy is exactly what I found after watching all 10 episodes of the series’ freshman run.
The story — which was created by Ferrell, his friend Harper Steele (“Will & Harper”), and his longtime collaborator Chris Henchy, felt like it had potential, but that potential is buried by flat jokes, a weak and dated premise, and a lead character who’s mostly an unfunny simpleton. As a central character, Lonnie feels like an amalgamation of other Ferrell characters we’ve seen in the past. He’s oblivious to others’ perceptions of him. He’s selfish, which is played for laughs, but rarely garners any. And like many of the comedian’s best and worst characters throughout this career, Lonnie is absolutely shameless, a comedy well that’s been drained dry throughout Ferrell’s years in the spotlight. While we’re told that Lonnie’s love of the game is what propels him, that notion is rarely felt. Rather, he yearns for success. To win, to reclaim his reputation, to stick it to his cartoonish rival Golden Fisk (Luke Wilson), and at times, his son Lance. But Lonnie often feels cartoonish himself, and with no real heart behind him or his motivations, the series’ central storyline carries no stakes.
Some of the supporting cast work overtime with the mundane material they’re given. Molly Shannon, who stars as Lonnie’s estranged wife Stacy, fires on all cylinders. Her hatred for her husband fuels big explosions and turmoil, which often plays into Shannon’s many strengths. She’s a total scene-stealer who deserves better.
The cast also includes Fortune Feimster (as Lonnie’s caddy Sam), Chris Parnell, and David Hornsby, but the stable of funny(-ish) people never quite gels. In this golf world that leans toward absurdism, “The Hawk” never fully commits to the bit, à la David Wain’s “Wet Hot American Summer” series or Tim Robinson’s “The Chair Company.”
Had the story been truncated or perhaps been presented as a movie, maybe some of the stronger bits could’ve risen to the top. Instead, the hollow “Hawk” attempts to soar as high and far as some of Lonnie’s best drives, but with bloated episodes and a lack of momentum, it ultimately winds up in the bunker.
