Will Ferrell’s “The Hawk” Misses the Mark

The series is, frankly, disappointing.

Will Ferrell’s new golf comedy on Netflix, “The Hawk,” feels like a shadow of his past successes. It seems he’s trying to recall the outrageous publicity stunts that once worked for him, but, oddly, there’s little effort to ensure this show doesn’t fall flat.

Currently streaming, “The Hawk” was co-produced by Ferrell, Harper Steele, who appeared in the documentary “Will & Harper,” and Chris Henchy.

The plot revolves around Ronnie “The Hawk” Hawkins (Ferrell), a professional golfer staging a comeback, encouraged by his adult son, Lance (Jimmy Tatro), who emerges as the new star in golf.

As expected from a Ferrell character, Ronnie is a self-absorbed figure who turns every success of his son into his own storyline.

What could potentially be a funny, memorable sketch feels stretched thin over five tedious hours.

The cast features several “SNL” alumni, including Molly Shannon as Ronnie’s ex-wife and Chris Parnell as a golf executive. Despite their best efforts, their roles are disappointingly small, with Luke Wilson also making an appearance as a rival golfer.

In an ironic twist, Ronnie’s character seems to reflect a fading star. One can’t help but wonder if the same might be true for Ferrell himself.

It’s evident that his comedic talents are, perhaps, better suited for films rather than a lengthy series. “The Hawk” often misses the mark, straddling the line between unfunny and mean-spirited at times—such as a moment where Ronnie appears indifferent to a friend’s death.

Not every sports comedy needs to hit the emotional highs of “Ted Lasso.” But shows like “Derry Girls” and “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” manage to balance humor with meaning.

This series attempts to recapture the wild humor of Ferrell’s golden days but is bogged down by an unpleasant tone and a half-hearted storyline.

Ferrell peaked in the early 2000s with hits like “Elf,” “Step Brothers,” and “Anchorman.” Back then, his audience was mainly millennials and teens, who are now adults, juggling life with mortgages. It seems “The Hawk” might resonate more with the middle school crowd from two decades ago.

Unlike peers like Ben Stiller, who have matured and adapted, Ferrell’s brand of silliness has failed to evolve.

If “The Hawk” were truly hilarious, perhaps sticking to what Ferrell knows best wouldn’t be an issue. Yet a vital ingredient that made his films enjoyable seems to be missing.

For instance, Ron Burgundy, his iconic character, had layers. The ensemble cast provided a blend that balanced his more intense moments. Conversely, the supporting characters in “The Hawk” feel underdeveloped, with Lance serving a secondary plot that doesn’t vary enough from Ronnie’s journey.

Moreover, characters in Ferrell’s earlier works had growth. Even Ron learned something along the way. Unfortunately, Ronnie remains stagnant throughout ten painfully long episodes, much like a teenager joyriding a golf cart without a clear destination.

The series is filled with Ferrell repeating his “greatest hits”—silly dances, shouting during inappropriate moments, or creating chaos at gatherings. If you enjoy those antics without needing a cohesive narrative, you might find something to like here.

But really, it feels like a rehash. Ferrell’s past roles often portrayed similar outlandish athletes, and nothing here showcases new territory for him.

“The Hawk” echoes previous works but doesn’t bring anything fresh to the table. Other comedies, like “Happy Gilmore,” have tackled similar themes with greater creativity.

Contrastingly, recent series like “Widows Bay” offer their absurdities with a sense of refreshment compared to “The Hawk.” There’s a narrative strength that Ferrell’s show lacks.

Another recent comedy, featuring an “SNL” alum (Tracy Morgan) in a storyline about an athlete seeking a comeback, might fill the void for viewers craving this sort of narrative. It comes off as a more engaging watch.

In the end, both the character and the show seem clueless about the timing of their comeback, arriving far too late to captivate a broader audience.