The best dramatizations know when to color outside the lines. Showrunners Max Borenstein and Jim Hecht understand that to maximize its appeal, Winning Time has to be about more than basketball. In its purest, most incisive form, it's a study of ego, power, the cost of the spotlight, and the personalities which make and break the game. Does its second season, premiering Sunday on HBO, achieve that form? Occasionally.
The first season brought with it a flurry of objections and clarifications from the real-life figures depicted in the series. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Jerry West were among the many Los Angeles Lakers legends to voice their disappointment in the show's handling of history. The second season doesn't stray from this approach, although it does ease up on its insistence that West was an explosive alcoholic.
The truncated second season, bumped down to seven episodes from the first season's 10, more efficiently charts the Lakers' rise to prominence. Head coach Paul Westhead (Jason Segel) struggles to quell long periods of in-fighting corroding the team from the inside while the franchise's owner, Jerry Buss (John C. Reilly), threatens his fledgling dynasty's health with a string of frustrating blunders. On the court, Abdul-Jabbar (Solomon Hughes), Earvin "Magic" Johnson (Quincy Isaiah), and Norm Nixon (DeVaughn Nixon) play on different wavelengths. A lot happens, but the writers stagger it so that keeping up with characters’ names, jobs, and responsibilities isn’t a chore.
In some respects, Winning Time's prioritization of drama over accuracy reflects Borenstein and Hecht's understanding of their imperative: tell this story in the most entertaining way imaginable. What does that mean specifically? Stretch the truth, flirt with “what-ifs,” and exaggerate specific dynamics. It isn't always graceful with its portrayals – particularly West and Buss – but it’s well-meaning enough to forgive its sporadic lapses of empathy. History's broader strokes – Westhead's firing, Pat Riley replacing him, the Magic/Larry Bird rivalry – remain largely intact, and the creative team honors those beats by stretching them across multiple episodes and treating them as the seismic shake-ups they were.
While Winning Time may be faithful to the big picture, it suffers greatly at the hands of its self-importance. The showrunners frequently commit the sin of overestimating the audience's interest in their account, venturing into explanations we don’t need, and context we didn’t ask for. Bird is an important opponent for Magic, but do we really need to spend 15 minutes on his recruitment? Do we really care that Buss can’t host a family game night without screaming at his kids to be more cutthroat businesspeople? We don’t, but the writers throw it at us anyway.
Thankfully, Winning Time’s cast saves it from mediocrity. The performances are far too good for the writing, and that only becomes more apparent by the time the credits roll on the last episode. Reilly remains a welcome presence, even if his rendition of Buss becomes too much of a caricature for us to take him seriously. Isaiah, Hughes, and Nixon are irresistible together, and the show is rarely better than when the three butt heads on screen. Adrien Brody and Jason Segel sell the Pat Riley-Paul Westhead friendship as one marked by pain, ambition, and mutual respect. It’s one of the series’ only wholesome dynamics, making their interactions handy narrative lifelines for them and for us.
