Over the course of three award-winning seasons, Ted Lasso evolved from refreshingly upbeat to gratingly cloying. And its treacle appeared to have run its course by the time it hung up its cleats in 2023.
Despite the apparent finality of that finale, however, Jason Sudeikis’ soccer coach is back for more feel-good humor in a fourth go-round (August 5 on Apple TV) that finds him coaxed out of retirement by the opportunity to lead AFC Richmond’s first-ever women’s team. What he and his friends deliver is more of the same mirthless mawkishness that sunk the show in the first place, albeit this time with gender-related jokes designed to warm the heart rather than make one laugh.
Holding one’s breath waiting for an inspired moment in Ted Lasso’s return engagement is apt to result in asphyxiation, as Sudeikis, Bill Lawrence, Brendan Hunt, and Joe Kelly’s series remains a cornball affair whose every attempt at wit is more groan-worthy than the last.
Refusing to deviate from formula, it’s once again awash in bad dad jokes that are often predicated on pop culture references, like Ted (Sudeikis) remarking about Richmond owner Rebecca’s (Hannah Waddingham) Dutch pilot boyfriend Matthijs (Matteo van der Grijn), “Ground control to major hunk!”
Such cheesiness is endemic, and during its initial four episodes (which were all that were provided to critics), it manages to shout out everything from Public Enemy, Iron Maiden, Susan Boyle, and the Beastie Boys to Casablanca, Do the Right Thing, Mean Girls, Heathers, The Lost Boys, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.
Every other line in Ted Lasso is infused with cartoony positivity as it picks up with Ted back at home in Missouri, where he’s enjoying employment at a grocery store and spending time with his son Henry (Grant Feely). His domestic suburban bliss is interrupted by an unexpected visit from Rebecca, Keeley (Juno Temple), and Higgins (Jeremy Swift), who want him to coach their inaugural women’s team.
Given that he’d have to move back across the pond and, therefore, away from his boy, this offer poses a big problem for Ted. Except, of course, that it doesn’t. In the blink of an eye, Ted’s mom Dottie (Becky Ann Baker), who encouraged him to relocate to the States in Season 3, does an about-face by arguing that sons need to see their dads happy at work. Then, Henry and Ted’s ex-wife Michelle (Andrea Anders) instantly and enthusiastically agree to move to England.
Easy-bake sitcom plotting is typical of Ted Lasso, even as it feigns wrestling with real issues. In this case, the main concern is the viability of a women’s soccer team, and an exhaustive report commissioned by Higgins reconfirms that they’re apt to be financial failures which destroy the fortunes of their conjoined men’s squads. Rebecca is worried about this very fate, but she’s also committed to the idea of uplifting women through sport. Her resolve is bolstered by Keeley, who’s all-in on the venture, no matter the misogynistic barbs tossed their way by skeptical media members and, later at a club get-together, by chauvinistic fans.
Regardless of its protagonist’s new gig, Ted Lasso has no interest in reinventing itself. To that end, it features the participation of Roy Kent (Brett Goldstein), who’s still gruff, profane, and infatuated with Keeley, and Coach Beard (Brendan Hunt), who continues to be weird, clever, and loyal to Ted, with whom he’s eventually paired on the women’s staff.
Additionally joining them on the sideline is assistant coach Alice Chilton (Tanya Reynolds), a gruff, clever ex-player who’s basically a hybrid of Roy and Beard—and who, consequently, doesn’t add anything new to the mix but more opportunities for Ted to look momentarily confused before bounding along on his merry way.
There’s no real story in this season of Ted Lasso; it’s merely a rehash of prior iterations, except this time the disparate misfits who must be corralled into a unified team wear bras and an extra obstacle in their path is sports-industry sexism.
Ted covers his eyes (including with a trash can, tee hee!) before entering the locker room lest he see an unclothed player, and Roy fixes a missing-uniforms dilemma by enlisting the aid of his niece Phoebe and her sparkly socks-making friends.
It’s all predictably aww-shucks adorable, with every conundrum rectified by compassion, tolerance, sacrifice, and an avalanche of saccharine nonsense. Moreover, it telegraphs how to feel with unbearable insistence, courtesy of a score that employs sensitive piano (or guitar) at every wannabe-poignant turn.
According to Ted Lasso, everything can be accomplished with an optimistic and empathetic can-do spirit. While that message is certainly nice, it’s hardly the vehicle for great comedy, as the show proved with its dreary third season. There’s no question that Richmond’s women’s operation is going to thrive, overcoming real-world obstacles with fantasy solutions, so its focus should be using its mini-dramas for loopy shenanigans.
Instead, though, the series boasts not a single amusing incident, concocting one scenario after another—Roy going on lots of dates; Rebecca and Keeley tentatively partnering with Tracey Ullman’s brash rock star-turned-businesswoman—that mistake joyfulness for hilarity.
Whereas Ted Lasso’s indefatigable hopefulness was refreshing in 2020, it now comes across as a one-note affectation, and Sudeikis and company don’t devise a way to revitalize their musty template.
As with Waddingham, Goldstein, Temple, and Swift, the star is still comfortable in his character’s shoes, but only the most zealous series disciples will manage a smile at bits such as Ted turning down pub owner Mae’s (Annette Badland) offer of a breakfast Guinness or Rebecca fawning over Kansas City barbeque. Whether it’s partaking in fish-out-of-water goofiness or concentrating on gender-equality tensions, its unflagging innocuousness winds up being its greatest weakness.
It makes sense for a hit series to avoid unduly rocking the boat. Yet considering that Ted Lasso originally “concluded” because its hijinks (and attitude) had grown stale, it’s difficult to understand why it hews to the familiar to this dogged degree.
“Who says you can’t go home again?” muses Ted upon resettling in London. On the basis of this unnecessary encore, I do.
