Will Ferrell’s ‘The Hawk’: A Swing at Redemption, or Just Another Bunker Shot?
There’s something undeniably comforting about Will Ferrell’s brand of humor. It’s like a warm hug from a slightly eccentric uncle—predictable, yes, but also oddly reassuring. So when I heard about The Hawk, his new Netflix series, I knew exactly what to expect: silly jokes, over-the-top characters, and a healthy dose of Ferrell’s signature childlike charm. But here’s the thing—while the show delivers on all those fronts, it also left me wondering: is this a hole-in-one, or just another swing and a miss?
The Setup: A Familiar Fairway
The Hawk follows Lonnie “The Hawk” Hawkins, a washed-up golfer who choked on the 18th hole at Pebble Beach in 2010, derailing his career and leaving him with a grand slam-sized chip on his shoulder. Fast forward to today, and Lonnie’s son, Lance, is making waves on the PGA circuit, while Lonnie himself is stuck on the Korn Ferry Tour, putting on a show with his caddy, Old Henry (Keith David, whose brief appearance is a missed opportunity, in my opinion).
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Ferrell leans into his love for golf—a sport he actually plays. It’s not just a backdrop; it’s a character in its own right. But here’s where it gets interesting: the show isn’t just about golf. It’s about redemption, family, and the absurdity of chasing a dream long past its expiration date. Personally, I think this is where Ferrell shines—not in the slapstick moments, but in the quieter, more reflective scenes where Lonnie’s narcissism gives way to a genuine desire to reconnect with his son.
The Caddy in the Rough
Enter Fortune Feimster as Sam, a Walmart parking lot mechanic who becomes Lonnie’s new caddy. On paper, it’s a bizarre pairing—she knows nothing about golf, and he’s a has-been with delusions of grandeur. But what many people don’t realize is that this dynamic is the heart of the show. Sam isn’t just a sidekick; she’s Lonnie’s foil, his reality check, and his unlikely partner in crime. Their relationship is messy, funny, and surprisingly heartfelt.
One thing that immediately stands out is how the show avoids turning Sam into a caricature. She’s not just the clueless newbie; she’s got grit, wit, and a sense of fun that Lonnie desperately needs. If you take a step back and think about it, this is a rare instance where a comedy doesn’t sacrifice character depth for laughs. It’s a balancing act that The Hawk mostly pulls off, though not without a few stumbles.
The Family Tee
Family dynamics are a big part of the show, and Ferrell’s chemistry with Molly Shannon (as Stacy, Lonnie’s not-quite-ex-wife) is electric. Shannon’s character is a whirlwind of energy, delivering some of the most graphic—and hilarious—dialogue in the series. But what this really suggests is that even in a show about golf and redemption, the relationships off the course are just as important as those on it.
Lance, Lonnie’s son, is a more complex character than I expected. His gambling problem feels like a plot device at times, but it also adds a layer of tension to his relationship with his father. In my opinion, this is where the show could have dug deeper. Lance’s struggles feel underdeveloped, and his engagement to Natalie (Katelyn Tarver), an aspiring wellness influencer, feels like a missed opportunity to explore the clash between ambition and authenticity.
The Swing and the Miss
Here’s where I have to be honest: The Hawk isn’t perfect. The plot mechanics often feel clunky, with threads that appear and disappear without resolution. The climax, in particular, felt rushed and unsatisfying—almost like the writers ran out of steam. But what makes this particularly frustrating is that the show has so much potential. The golf scenes are suspenseful, the humor is sharp, and the characters are likable. So why does it feel like the show is holding back?
From my perspective, the issue lies in its reluctance to fully commit to its themes. Is it a comedy? A drama? A sports redemption story? It tries to be all three, and while it mostly succeeds, it never quite reaches the heights it could. This raises a deeper question: can a show be both silly and profound? The Hawk says yes, but it doesn’t always stick the landing.
The 19th Hole: Reflections on Ferrell’s Legacy
Will Ferrell has built a career on playing overgrown children—from Elf to Anchorman, his characters are lovable, clueless, and endlessly entertaining. Lonnie “The Hawk” Hawkins is no exception. But what’s interesting here is how Ferrell uses that persona to explore something deeper. Lonnie’s narcissism isn’t just a joke; it’s a mask for his insecurities, his failures, and his desire to be loved.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how the show handles its supporting characters. Unlike many comedies, The Hawk doesn’t rely on caricatures. Even Chris Parnell’s snobby board member, Anton, has moments of humanity. This isn’t just a show about one man’s journey; it’s a snapshot of a world where everyone is trying to find their place.
Final Thoughts: A Par or a Bogey?
So, is The Hawk worth your time? Personally, I think it is—but with a caveat. If you’re looking for a laugh-out-loud comedy with Ferrell’s signature style, you’ll find plenty to enjoy. But if you’re hoping for a deep, nuanced exploration of redemption and family, you might come away feeling slightly underwhelmed.
What this really suggests is that Ferrell is still searching for that perfect balance between humor and heart. The Hawk isn’t his best work, but it’s a solid addition to his filmography—a show that’s as endearing as it is flawed. And maybe that’s the point. After all, isn’t life a little like golf? You don’t always hit the green, but the journey—bumps and all—is what makes it worth playing.
