Intolerant TV: Mr. Throwback

Steph Curry plays himself, and isn't terrible, in Mr. Throwback

At Intolerant TV, we watch every new show on network television for the fall season—so you don’t have to. We don’t watch them for long, though. Instead of giving thumbs up/down or a certain number of stars, we let you know how long we were able to stand the pilot episode before turning it off.

I’ll admit I budgeted for a quick hook for this show—a mockumentary starring Steph Curry—but it pleasantly threw my schedule into turmoil by not being terrible.

We open with NBA superstar Steph Curry dribbling a basketball in a gym.

“This is the story of one of the most dominant basketball players of all time,” he says to the camera, then introduces us to Danny Grossman, the kid who started in front of him in middle school.

Cut to cell phone video of Danny, now the owner of a sports memorabilia store, filming a cringeworthy promo. Intercut with that is a documentary-style confessional interview with his ex-wife.

“Could you make sure my title thing says ex-wife, not wife,” she says. “Someone on the walkie-talkie said wife.”

Just like that, we’re hooked. The show is quick and clever, poking fun at the characters (“Do I have to say who I am first? Just kidding,” says Curry in his confessional) and reveling in their awkwardness.

Curry isn’t able to hit from anywhere, like he does on the court, but his portrayal of an exa

ggerated version of himself still manages to score consistently. We’re laughing with him, not at him, which is better than some previous NBA player actor turns. It’s far better than his previous foray into TV, but the absence of Rob Riggle alone might account for that.

Grossman was a junior-high basketball star, until officials discovered that his father forged his birth certificate, and he was actually 15 years old, playing against pre-teens.

As an adult, his nodding acquaintance with the truth continues to get him in trouble, including a live-streamed beating by someone he owed $90,000.

“It was all a misunderstanding,” he tells the documentary crew. “I owed him the money, and he thought I had it.”

Desperate for a quick influx of cash, Grossman arranges a “bump” meeting with Curry, his former teammate, after a Warriors’ game. While catching up, Grossman gets caught trying to steal Curry’s game jersey. He explains he’s doing it to raise money for his terminally ill daughter, which is, of course, eventually revealed to be a lie.

Curry offers to organize a charity game for the girl, setting up the premise for the remainder of the season.

The show has a strong cast in comedian Adam Pally as Grossman and SNL’s Ego Nwodim as Curry’s manager, another childhood classmate of the pair who is skeptical of Grossman from the outset. (“Didn’t you kill yourself?” she asks when they’re re-introduced.)

It’s quirky and creative, similar to Young Rock, another mega-star-driven comedy NBC took a chance on that was gone too soon.

It’s not clear whether there’s enough to support an entire season, as the plot appears to be better suited for a short movie, but the pilot inspires confidence. It’s clever and not only survived until the end of the half hour but left me coming back for more.