REVIEW: ‘Stick’ — Apple’s golf-based comedy unlikely to rival ‘Ted Lasso’ success

Owen Wilson (left) and Peter Dager in 'Stick' - Apple TV+. (Supplied)
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Updated 13 June 2025
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REVIEW: ‘Stick’ — Apple’s golf-based comedy unlikely to rival ‘Ted Lasso’ success

  • Owen Wilson’s charisma shines through, but ‘Stick’ is forgettable fluff

JEDDAH: You remember “Ted Lasso,” right? The Jason Sudeikis-fronted feelgood football-based sporting comedy that was a huge hit for Apple? Apple sure does. Hence “Stick.”

The Jason Sudeikis of “Stick” is Owen Wilson — a solid choice, possessed of a similar goofy charisma and real comedy pedigree. The football of “Stick” is golf. Which, while it’s easier to convincingly replicate to a high standard on screen (the supposedly elite football action in “Ted Lasso” was, unintentionally, just as hilarious as its best jokes) is also nowhere near as visually engaging as football. So “Stick” already has a lot of work to do.

The plot: Wilson is former pro golfer Pryce “Stick” Cahill, a serious talent who had a serious meltdown during a televised tournament, basically ruining his life. He now sells golf gear, gives lessons, and carries out side hustles with his former caddy Mitts (Marc Maron, doing what Marc Maron does — grumpy, cynical, with a glimpse of heart). And he’s going through a protracted divorce with a woman he still clearly loves but who has moved on.

One day, Pryce spots a young teen, Santi (Peter Dager), smashing balls further than most pros manage. Pryce quickly identifies that Santi is a prodigy and convinces his single mom Elena (Mariana Trevino) to let him coach/manage/try and qualify Santi for the US amateur championships. This involves a road trip in Mitts’ RV. It also involves Pryce handing over $100,000 that he really can’t afford to Elena to prove to her he’s serious. She knows Santi’s good, but since his dad — and former coach — left them, he hasn’t wanted to play golf at all. Santi is hugely talented, but prone to losing his head if things don’t go perfectly for him.

And that’s about it (in episodes up to the time of writing). We follow the mismatched crew on their road trip; Santi plays some golf and wows people; Pryce kind of becomes a substitute dad; Mitts and Elena bicker in a kind of flirty way. Nothing much happens, no huge laughs are had, Dager is a convincing mix of adolescent arrogance and angst, and Wilson is his usual quirky, charming self.

There’s nothing to hate about “Stick,” but there’s nothing really to love about it either. It’s nice. It’s vaguely entertaining. I’m already forgetting it.


Review: ‘Sorry, Baby’ by Eva Victor

Eva Victor appears in Sorry, Baby by Eva Victor, an official selection of the 2025 Sundance Film Festival. (Supplied)
Updated 27 December 2025
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Review: ‘Sorry, Baby’ by Eva Victor

  • Victor makes a deliberate narrative choice; we never witness the violence of what happens to her character

There is a bravery in “Sorry, Baby” that comes not from what the film shows, but from what it withholds. 

Written, directed by, and starring Eva Victor, it is one of the most talked-about indie films of the year, winning the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at Sundance and gathering momentum with nominations, including nods at the Golden Globes and Gotham Awards. 

The film is both incisive and tender in its exploration of trauma, friendship, and the long, winding road toward healing. It follows Agnes, a young professor of literature trying to pick up the pieces after a disturbing incident in grad school. 

Victor makes a deliberate narrative choice; we never witness the violence of what happens to her character. The story centers on Agnes’ perspective in her own words, even as she struggles to name it at various points in the film. 

There is a generosity to Victor’s storytelling and a refusal to reduce the narrative to trauma alone. Instead we witness the breadth of human experience, from heartbreak and loneliness to joy and the sustaining power of friendship. These themes are supported by dialogue and camerawork that incorporates silences and stillness as much as the power of words and movement. 

The film captures the messy, beautiful ways people care for one another. Supporting performances — particularly by “Mickey 17” actor Naomi Ackie who plays the best friend Lydia — and encounters with strangers and a kitten, reinforce the story’s celebration of solidarity and community. 

“Sorry, Baby” reminds us that human resilience is rarely entirely solitary; it is nurtured through acts of care, intimacy and tenderness.

A pivotal scene between Agnes and her friend’s newborn inspires the film’s title. A single, reassuring line gently speaks a pure and simple truth: “I know you’re scared … but you’re OK.” 

It is a reminder that in the end, no matter how dark life gets, it goes on, and so does the human capacity to love.