Time to Win, Review: Adam McKay’s Lakers basketball saga is too pleased with itself

If you are a fan of basketball, the stories and characters in Time of Victory: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty (Sky Atlantic) will be known. For the rest of us, this is an encouraging introduction. The series begins in 1979 when freelance businessman Jerry Buss decides to buy Los Angeles Lakers. That same year, they produced an actor named Magic Johnson. Together, they will change the assets of the team.

There are many ways to tell this story from a creative point of view. Executive producer Adam McKay, who directed the first episode, decided to throw it all away. The result is a show that makes you feel vaguely uncomfortable – as if you were filling your face with junk food and a bucket of fizzy bangs.

The characters constantly address the audience directly and with a conscious wink. Some scenes are shot with a grainy aesthetic reminiscent of 1970s television, others are not, and we are constantly switching from one to the other without rhyme or reason. There are inscriptions everywhere on smart alleys: when Buss’ business partner Frank Mariani is introduced, his name appears on the screen and is accompanied by the interpreter “he has acid reflux”. The show is more pleased with itself than McKay’s latest work, a satire on climate change Don’t look up.

Too bad there are some good things here. John C Reilly he has a ball like Buss, the type of man who wakes up in a Playboy mansion, dries his chest hair, and orders rum and coke at board meetings. Reilly paints a loving portrait of Buss as a blind man with a golden heart and a sharp business brain. If all the things about breaking the fourth wall were limited to him, it could work.

Quincy Isaiah, a newcomer who was blessed for this part because he is very tall, has a much more natural role than Johnson: the son of hardworking parents from Lansing, Michigan, who soon got used to the superstar lifestyle. And when it comes to other characters, there is no light and shadow. The outgoing Lakers owner is a one-dimensional villain; head coach Jerry West (Jason Clarke) exists in a state of near-murderous rage (if he were the real West, he would be on the phone with his lawyers).

If only the show would commit to either OTT comedy – for which Reilly was born – or serious drama (Rob Morgan as Johnson’s watchful father brings rare dignity to his scenes). But McKay’s attention is focused more on the dazzling superficial details than on the essence of the story.