ST. LOUIS — Public Service Announcement: HBO's "Ballers" isn't a comedy series. It's much more than that.
At its best, the show about an ex-NFL star (Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson) navigating the turbulent waters of retirement in and around the game found its rhythm on the dramatic side of the ball. The laughs came and went, but the powerful foundation belonged to the unjust and corrupt aspects of the world of sports.
Sometimes, the model of the car doesn't exactly sit in line with the make. From the outside, a half-hour series from Stephen Levinson (creator/producer) and Mark Wahlberg (producer), who brought audiences the high life in "Entourage," seemed like "Jerry Maguire" meets "Any Given Sunday." Deep down, there was much more going on.
Johnson's Strasmore wasn't just trying to make a life after the game was over for him-he was trying to live with what he experienced as a child, teenager, and adult around the prism of football at the same time. Here was a guy who seemingly had it all, left it, and had to rebuild. Thanks to a loyal friend, Joe (the gifted Rob Corddry), Spencer found a calling in the financial side of the game, helping players protect their earnings. It wasn't just about making money for Strasmore, but then again, it wasn't NOT about making money either.
The ties that bind in a ruthless game like the NFL reveal the true colors of everyone around you, including owners, general managers, and the publicity aspect of the game. As he gained footing on the other side of the ball, Spencer found the business aspect to be unforgiving, especially when it challenged his relationship with Joe and agent/friend Jason (Troy Garity), or fading receiver Ricky Jerret (John David Washington, bringing depth to a supporting role).
I loved the way the show never shied away from the little things most forget about. The relentless pain the game leaves a player in, as Strasmore couldn't leave home with a pill bottle. The way the scars of childhood and a lost brother damaged Spencer even into adulthood. A powerful moment in Season 4 that revealed a whole new side to the show came when Spencer told Joe about his brother's suicide. Gray-beard and weathered look intact, it's some of Johnson's best work.
Strasmore is The Rock's best role, or at the very least, his deepest portrayal. A part that forged his college football days at the University of Miami and his current status as a global movie superstar. The usual delights of a Johnson performance are present: the charisma, overwhelming physicality, and swagger. The quiet poignancy he brought to the role was the unexpected part. One can see that throughout the final season, where Spencer is giving a tell-all interview as the final story is unfolding.
It's impossible to forget about Omar Benson Miller's Charles Green, another ex-player trying to let go of the game that consumed his life, but finding it harder to break loose. An actor who usually gets a small piece of the pie, Miller got more time each season to expand Green's palette on screen, taking him from car salesman to comeback player to General Manager with a pregnant wife and heart problem.
The shocking aspects of the show came when a former player got involved in gang crimes, car accidents, or a mixture of both. The show was never afraid to throw a jab at your chin when you weren't looking.
The cover identity of a comedy may have been on purpose, diverting your eyes just long enough to forget about the dramatic punch coming your way. Whether there was intent or not, the comedy never truly found a place on "Ballers", and I think it was better for it.
Did it hurt the marketing aspect of the game? Arguably so. People hear it's a comedy, sit down, and are struck instead by a riveting sports drama. There can be side effects, and as the seasons waged on, viewers were lost. Once the highest-rated comedy on HBO, "Ballers" simply lost touch with its audience. In my opinion, it went deeper than people expected or wanted.
That was the part I liked. The depth. Comedy may be hard to produce, but there's so many lanes heading to its succession that the effect can be tiresome. "Ballers" went for something more. A show about older athletes fighting the dying of the light, trying to find their place in an ever-changing world that doesn't care about them. A show about the racial divide in the game, on and off the field. A show about the brutal politics of the ownership groups and how the scope of a team can sometimes have little to do with the game.
One of its best messages being hammered home in its fifth and final season is the lack of respect the game holds for its ex-players. It shows Spencer taking ownership of a football team with the hope of using his influence to help the league deliver aid to former players. Like many of its themes, "Ballers" takes real-world problems in the sport and tackles them head-on.
I appreciated that and hopefully, binge addicts will too when they find it. That's the great thing about television shows, movies, music, and pretty much any piece of art. It's just sitting there waiting for you.
On Oct. 13, "Ballers" lines up for the last time on HBO. Five seasons and 47 episodes with more tough drama than laughter.
It's more than just a game on this show. Take a look for yourself.
