‘Mr. Throwback’ Is So Good, Not Even Steph Curry’s Acting Can Sink It

As an athlete, Stephen Curry is, apparently, very good. As a TV producer, his track record is mixed, comprising both dizzying highs (I will never stop waiting for more Holey Moley) and shocking lows (yeesh, Good Times). As an actor, his talents probably hit their ceiling with his TV commercials for Subway or Cars.com, but when you’re rich and powerful, no one can really stop you from selling Peacock a mockumentary in which you play yourself, no matter how unimpressive you are in the role. Fortunately, Mr. Throwback is very good — so good, in fact, that my harshest criticism of this show about Steph Curry is that it apparently had to star Steph Curry.

The show’s Steph has a lot in common with the one we know: He’s a talented and dominant NBA player who grew up in Charlotte and whose father preceded him in the league; he has an entertainment production company; he’s married to Ayesha, and raising kids with her; he’s really, really nice. The show diverges from reality in the introduction of Danny (Adam Pally, re-teaming here with his Happy Endings boss David Caspe, who co-created Mr. Throwback with Matthew Libman and Daniel Libman). Though Danny is now a down-on-his-luck sports memorabilia dealer, it wasn’t always this way. When Danny and Steph played basketball together as kids, it was Danny who was the team’s star player, recruited to the NBA in the fourth grade under the guidance of Coach Mitch (Tracy Letts), Danny’s father. 

There are extenuating circumstances that keep Danny’s career from fulfilling its early promise, and when we meet him in his 30s, he’s so desperate to make some fast money that he contrives a reunion with his old friend to try to sneak out some Steph stuff he can flip. It doesn’t work out exactly as Danny planned… because it goes even better. Steph is happy to reconnect with Danny, who quickly finds himself welcomed into Steph’s inner circle, as are Danny’s estranged wife Sam (Ayden Mayeri) and their daughter Charlie (Layla Scalisi). Danny’s reappearance in Steph’s life is a source of irritation for Kimberly (Ego Nwodim). Now CEO of Steph’s production company, Curry Up and Wait, Kimberly was also friends with Danny and Steph when they were all in middle school together; the first thing we see her tell the documentarians covering this phase of Steph’s life is that Danny is “mad shady.”

There’s no way to say this that doesn’t sound rude, but a struggling fuckup who will say or do anything to get himself out of trouble, with no thought of the potential consequences, is the part Pally was born to play. Danny is on the same spectrum of barely functional goofs as Max, the character he played in Happy Endings, only pushed further into recklessness since Danny has a family, and thus much more to lose. Danny has further backstory that I can’t reveal, except to say that Letts was cast for a reason, and gets a lot of juicy material to play both in flashbacks to the leads in their youth, and in the present day. To see Letts, one of his generation’s greatest actors and playwrights, doing an instructive improv scene for an assembly of rowdy high school students is a particular delight.

The story is so rich, and the performers’ touch so light and assured, that the biggest problem by far with Mr. Throwback is that Steph Curry isn’t up to his co-stars’ standard. Admittedly, his job isn’t the hardest — he’s playing “himself,” and assumedly character notes like “Steph’s” extreme competitiveness (including with his own child) and excessive generosity are based on the real Curry. But whenever he appears, his scene partners have to work harder to compensate for his shortcomings. 

The show could have just as easily been about a fictional player, played by an actor who looks the part. It’s not necessary for the character to be any more convincing at playing basketball on camera than it was for any of the actors who showed up in Winning Time — and by the way, all those guys lost their jobs on that show last year, so they would have been available. Fictionalizing the Steph figure would also allow the writers license to give him some edgy moments that Curry might balk at playing as “himself.” Failing that, they could exaggerate the player character’s niceness to even more absurd comic effect. I know Curry’s probably approaching the end of his career in professional athletics and will need something else to do soon; I hope this isn’t practice for his playing any character that isn’t an NBA player with whom he shares a name.

It’s a testament to how great all the actual actors are that, even with Curry dragging down all his scenes, I have to recommend Mr. Throwback. Ayden Mayeri is perfectly understated as the ex who knows all of Danny’s bullshit but can’t help getting swept up in it anyway. Nwodim sparkles as Steph’s extraordinarily capable right hand; her whiteboard-assisted explanations of how Stephenomics work in the Bay Area and beyond define her early on as a Katie Porter for the NBA. Separately and together, Pally and Letts bring gags and pathos I wasn’t expecting. Most importantly, the ingenuity and execution of Mr. Throwback reassure me that Good Times was a fluke, and that Curry actually does have respectable taste and solid instincts as a producer. 

In a dull summer for comedy on TV, Mr. Throwback is an unexpected bright spot.