Given the crop of current NBA stars, casting Steph Curry as the leading man in a network sitcom is a radical choice. Rising star Anthony Edwards is a bigger personality. Reigning MVP Nikola Jokic is a better straight man. Klay Thompson, Curry’s former Splash Brother, is a situational comedy unto himself – as apt to turn up in a man-on-the-street TV news interview about New York City scaffolding as laugh at his online mimics.
Nevertheless, it’s Curry who is the star and executive producer of Mr Throwback – a new Peacock series that seems a piece of a larger strategy at NBC Universal to retain its outsized Olympics audience, snatch back its TV comedy crown from Disney (home of Abbott Elementary) and recapture some of its old Thursday-night swagger. It’s also somewhat of a teaser for the 2025-26 NBA season, when NBC will carry games again after a 23-year hiatus. NBC’s rights deal in effect pushes Warner Bros Discovery to the sidelines and would seem to spell the end of Inside the NBA, the standard in basketball comedy.
With just six half-hour episodes, Mr Throwback can’t compete with Inside’s domination of Tuesday and Thursday night NBA coverage. Nor is it poised to threaten the studio show’s knack for trading memes and jokes with its audience in real time. It’s not a coincidence that hosts Ernie Johnson, Kenny Smith, Charles Barkley and Shaquille O’Neal walk on to the pilot. Their presence lends authenticity.
So does Curry – who, monotone affect aside, embodies an ironic underdog quality. The son of one of the best shooters in NBA history, with a brother in the league as well, Curry looks like his NBA path was predestined. But 15 pro seasons on, the USA Basketball hero still smarts from early criticism about his size, durability and freewheeling playing style – all of which forged him into a four-time NBA titlist and the consensus best shooter who ever lived.
Critcally, the 6ft 2in MVP guard speaks to a time-worn athlete truism – that behind every sports great lies a rival who didn’t make it despite being the better competitor back in the day. Think Leroy Smith, the hapless Carolina kid who made the high school varsity hoops team over Michael Jordan – who spent a chunk of his basketball hall of fame induction speech recalling that slight while Smith, no better than a professional journeyman, looked on from the audience.
Like Young Rock, the NBC comedy about Dwayne Johnson’s early life, Curry drives the story as a main character and an expert witness in Mr Throwback’s mockumentary framing. But the focus is squarely on Danny Grossman, the “Jewish Jordan” touted as a man among 12-year-olds until a birther movement killed the hype; Adam Pally imbues him with the same ursine energy he applied to his gay bro character on Happy Endings, the apogee of ensemble comedy. Danny works as a memorabilia merchant because he still lives in the past, but the profits don’t bring in nearly enough to cover his spiraling gambling addiction.
A $90,000 debt prompts Danny to seek a reunion with Curry – a super do-gooder who, as it turns out, has cribbed a fair few of his signature trademarks from Jewish Jordan. When Danny is caught stealing one of Curry’s game-worn jerseys for his cause, the documentary crew following the NBA star as a matter of course sticks with Danny; he goes on to tell an even bigger lie about needing the money from the jersey sales to pay hospital bills for his daughter (Layla Scalisi), who is definitely not terminally ill. From there, the race is on to see how much deeper a hole Danny can dig for himself before his entire world caves in again.
At a glance, Mr Throwback would appear to have too many balls in the air between developing its sharply drawn characters (including Curry), advancing its complex plots and ensuring all the stars – not least the criminally underutilized SNL alum Ego Nwodim (who plays Curry bestie-turned-media maven Kimberly) – get their shine. But if anyone can juggle all these elements it’s showrunner David Caspe; at the helm of the Happy Endings’ writers room, he somehow managed to braid together these and trickier threads while maintaining a breakneck joke rate.
The punchlines don’t come as fast and furious in Mr Throwback, whose writers’ room doesn’t appear to be anywhere near the size of Happy Endings’, but the punchlines do land. One talking head interview features Danny’s sports dad father, Mitch (Pulitzer prize-winning playwright Tracy Letts), corroborating a story Curry tells about the time the coach channeled Indiana’s Bobby Knight and threw a chair on to the court with a kid still sitting in it. “That was a different time,” Mitch sighs. “I could throw kids back then. I couldn’t do it now. I’m not strong enough.”
Mr Throwback will struggle to keep pace with the perpetual snark stream that is NBA Twitter, much less Happy Endings’ rat-tat-tat rhythm. But the Peacock series’ best-to-never premise is well-timed to an era where fame, however far gone, is easily restored or restyled in a few clicks. Building the entire production around Curry was a radical choice, sure, but the payoff is nothing but net.
Mr Throwback is available on Peacock in the US with a UK date to be announced
