Here's a sports scenario for you: you're an NFL team that just drafted a star college quarterback with a proven track record of success by making plays outside the pocket. Sure, you know the guy is going to eventually have to start performing under center. But to ease him into the NFL and take advantage of his unique skillset, you're going to play to his strengths at first, right?
Believe it or not, the same formula works for television. When you're launching a new series, you should have a firm understanding of your lead's best attributes. Unfortunately for HBO's "Ballers," which premiered last night to deflating results, it appears as if showrunner Steve Levinson has no idea how best to utilize Dwayne Johnson.
"Ballers" follows Johnson's Spencer Strasmore, a former star for the Miami Dolphins who is trying get acclimated to life after football. But while he struggles with the transition to everyday life, fans may struggle to embrace this neutered version of The Rock.
Johnson's best asset as a performer is his all natural charisma; the guy's likability levels are off the charts. It's that winning smile and innate comedic timing that enabled him to drag a half-baked film like "The Rundown" to respectability or inject some much needed energy into a flat lining franchise like "Fast & Furious." So why, for the love of touchdown dances and endorsement deals, does "Ballers" insist on stifling him by making him a wannabe agent?
In last night's premiere, Johnson assumes a sort of mentorship role for the immature yet talented fictional wide receiver Ricky Jerret. Immediately, I wish the roles were reversed. Remember former Cincinnati Bengals star Chad Ochocinco? He could be immature, self-centered and downright distracting. But his antics always carried a playful nature and his goofball oddness was endearing instead of demeaning. Who better to walk that fine line between arrogant hot shot and loveable sweetheart than Johnson? Shoulder pads and a helmet would give his character more room to run off the field than shined polo loafers and a pressed Armani suit.
But, okay, I get it. Johnson is 43 and the show wants to provide a glimpse into the unglamorous aspects of post fame and celebrity. I'm not saying Johnson isn't capable of playing that type of character because he absolutely is. I even give "Ballers "credit for inverting the typical lifestyles of the rich and famous storyline and telling it from the perspective of the not-usually-flashy money man. It's a solid hook.
But if you're trying to be a more grown up "Entourage," why shoehorn an appearance from legendary coach Don Shula just so he can say "a**hole?" Why throw "Hey! That's So-and-So!" cameos from real NFL stars into the mix? On the flip side, if you're going for comedy than why open your show with a grisly highway death? It doesn't feel as if "Ballers" knows exactly what it wants to be just yet -- raunchy fame and fortune comedy or a drama about identity -- and that muddled tone makes it difficult for viewers to grab ahold. The episode had neither enough laughs nor enough worthy storylines for me to commit one way or the other.
It's normal for a show to take a few episodes to find its groove and Johnson's star power is so bright that I'll give "Ballers" that opportunity. But if I'm being honest, I see the show's chances of long-term success more as a Hail Mary than a first-and-goal play.
