“Running Point (2025) Series: Family, Foul Language, and Funny Business”

Isla, the only sister in a family of brothers, is ambitious and often overlooked. But when her brother is forced to resign from his position as president of the Los Angeles Waves, she's appointed in his place. Now that she's stepping up into the family business, she's going to have to prove to her skeptical brothers, the board, and the larger sports community that she was the right choice for the job. Over the course of the series, she sets out to do just that - especially in the unpredictable, male-dominated world of sports.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thA5bHMjOI4

I was a little late to this party jumping in on the action in season two, but nonetheless lets dive in.

Kate Hudson dominates the frame as Isla Gordon, locked in conversation (and possibly a smackdown) with volatile point guard Travis Bugg (played by Chet Hanks). In Netflix’s sports sitcom Running Point, Isla – “the only sister in a family of brothers” – is thrust into the front office of the Los Angeles Waves when her hot-headed brother resigns. The official synopsis has it right: this reformed party-girl-turned-franchise-owner must navigate “the unpredictable, male-dominated world of sports” and convince her skeptical brothers, the team board, and the entire LA sports community that she deserves the job. It’s a premise ripe for family (and locker-room) hijinks – think Succession meets Ted Lasso, with a shot of Fresh Prince-style fish-out-of-water comedy.

Isla is definitely not alone in the mayhem. Her chief of staff and college BFF Ali (Brenda Song) is there to rein her in – she once told Isla “I understand where the bodies are buried” and she’s not joking. (Pictured: Ali and Isla hashing out big Plans at Waves HQ.) The rest of the Gordon gang is equally colorful: youngest brother Sandy (Drew Tarver) is the hyper-ambitious CFO who insists he’s “often right” (and if he weren’t gay and goofy, maybe he would be); middle brother Ness (Scott MacArthur) is the earnest GM with too many ideas and not enough common sense; and eldest sibling Cam (Justin Theroux) is the dethroned boss-in-rehab who named Isla as his replacement. Rounding out the Loony Bin (er, roster) are all-star players and staff who are nuts in wonderfully sitcom-y ways: from prima donna Marcus and rapper-aspirant Travis to an overbearing player-mom (Nicole Sullivan steals the bench-warming scenes as a basketball mom) to a cocktail of executives and family friends so diverse they make the Olympic opening ceremony look monochrome.

What hooked me on Running Point was this happy chaos. There are so many wacky characters I lost count: A player who does half-time shows with a kid’s birthday performer (with tragicomic results), a Chinese acrobat troupe, big brothers brawling poolside – it’s an absurdist circus. Yet amid the insanity, there are actual feels: sisterly loyalty, brotherly bickering, and even a cute touch of Mom influence (Kate Hudson’s character channels Goldie Hawn’s Wildcats-era coach vibe – strong, funny, a little wild) without ever going full Hallmark. The family scenes, in particular, have heart: Isla fearing she’s “just Jack Gordon’s little daughter” and the family gathering to pump her up at playoffs.

Of course, this being a modern ensemble comedy, Running Point also cheers diversity like an all-star draft. The more-significant gripe is that Running Point doesn’t pull any punches on language. Holy orange and blue F-bombs! If you’re offended by salty language, run for the hills but I get why some parents might clench their jaws.

Also, not everyone is a fan of the broad acting style. The performances walk a fine line between over-the-top and infuriating: think characters so zany they sometimes cartoonishly bounce off the walls. Between the Snapchat screens, celebrity cameos, and magazine-shoot montages, Running Point is as glossy and frantic as an Instagram story gone rogue – it knows it’s absurd and leans into it.

By the way, speaking of scenery: Watch closely for a mind-blowing set trick. The Los Angeles Waves’ stadium exterior isn’t in LA at all – it’s Glasgow’s OVO Hydro arena, cleverly redressed as an L.A. basketball palace. (That orange-and-blue-painted Hydro and a CGI ad on top is the closest thing to Hollywood magic we’ve got.) They shot the rest in Los Angeles proper, but whenever the camera cuts to the big stadium, you’re actually peeking 5,000 miles northeast of Pasadena. How about that? It’s a little detail that says a lot about this show: half-baked in truth and half-tossed into comedic CGI.

So what’s my final take? Running Point is a bit of a dud if you go in expecting deep drama or tight realism. It doesn’t treat its real-life inspiration (Jeanie Buss’s trailblazing path) as sacred scripture; Mindy Kaling’s team mined some real moments (Ding ding, Isla has a Playboy subplot just like Jeanie did), but mostly it’s one big fictional hoop.

Yet none of that matters if you just want a fun seat-filler. The leads carry it: Kate Hudson wears Isla’s suits like Armani armor, firing off sarcastic zingers faster than a free-throw. (Brenda Song's Ali is a rock; Tarver and MacArthur are endlessly endearing as the nerdy/game-boy bros.) Even when it swings for the fences with a predictable plot (because yes, the trope of “unlikely sister outsmarts brothers” is super familiar), it mostly lands and gets the crowd laughing. I’d tell you more – but I won’t spoil who ends up in the game, or in Isla’s dating foul line! – aside from hinting that it all builds to a nice finish with some truth bombs lobbed about playing through adversity.

All told, Running Point feels like a friendly jump shot of a show. It’s fun more often than it’s eye-rolling, even if sometimes it’s a joke short on rim. I give it 7.0/10 – I had a good time in the stands, even if a few plays were a bit off.