Spoiler Warning:

It’s possible to like something that is in the middle of an identity crisis, and that would be Running Point, Netflix’s sophomore comedy about Isla Gordon, played by Kate Hudson, who is continuing to run a professional basketball franchise against all odds. At the end of last season, her brother Cam, played by Justin Theroux, managed to get out of rehab. This season, he rejoins the family business, clearly with the intention of taking it over again, although he settles for a smaller position while the family slowly welcomes him back, believing that he’s sober when he is anything but. Meanwhile, the Los Angeles Waves are chasing a championship with the roster they’ve assembled over the first two seasons. Their former coach, Jay Brown, played by Jay Ellis, was supposedly leaving for Boston to be closer to his children. That’s a plot point the show immediately abandons so Jay can continue floating around as a potential love interest for Isla after her engagement to Lev Levenson completely falls apart. Isla replaces him with aging coaching legend Norm Stinson, played by Ray Romano, who is used so sparingly that I’m honestly not sure why they bothered casting Ray Romano in the first place.

Running Point suffers from a crowded cast, a glut of storylines, and unfocused energy. It’s hard to identify what the central narrative actually is beyond Isla trying to prove she can run a basketball franchise to a championship while Cam continues sabotaging the family from within. That’s a perfectly solid story. The problem is the show keeps stopping to check in with everyone else, whether they actually have anything meaningful to contribute or not.

Jackie Moreno, played by Fabrizio Guido, was one of my favorite additions in season one as the long-lost Gordon sibling. He’s still incredibly likable, but the writers don’t really seem to know what to do with him. Most of his season revolves around being manipulated by Cam while his crush on one of the team’s dancers barely progresses. Ness Gordon, played by Scott MacArthur, mostly just wanders into scenes, delivers jokes, and leaves again. I honestly don’t know if he had an actual storyline this year or if his sole purpose was to be the guy who bursts into rooms fueled by Red Bull and protein bars. Sandy Gordon, played by Drew Tarver, gets a little more to do, although he still feels trapped in the role of the token gay brother. His relationship falls apart before he discovers one of the team’s players is sexually fluid, which is admittedly a much more interesting direction than the reality-show nonsense the season starts him with. Still, Sandy is also the family’s financial genius, and I’d really like to see the show remember that instead of constantly defining him through romantic entanglements. Then there’s Ali Lee, played by Brenda Song, who was already underused during season one. Her biggest storyline revolves around finally wanting the promotion she’s earned, briefly taking a job with a Canadian basketball team, being showered with stereotypical Canadian kindness and maple syrup, and then immediately being brought back by Isla. After that… what? Was that really all Brenda Song was given to do this year?

The series wants to be everything all at once. It wants workplace comedy, family drama, romance, sports comedy, business intrigue, and character study while also trying to service an enormous ensemble in ten half-hour episodes. Instead of making every storyline feel important, most of them feel half-finished. Characters disappear for stretches of the season, recurring plots are quietly abandoned, and new ideas are introduced before the old ones have a chance to breathe. It genuinely feels like the writers’ room has a giant board full of sticky notes that they’re randomly pulling from a hat before forgetting half of them an episode later.

Then we get to the finale, and this is where the season completely loses me. Since I’ve already wandered into spoiler territory, let’s keep going. Isla successfully stops Cam’s hostile takeover after the family catches him admitting on tape that he’s using drugs, while Sandy knows about his embezzlement. The Waves win the championship, and instead of celebrating that victory, the season suddenly pivots to Cam appearing on television and announcing… something. I genuinely don’t know what it was. I’ve tried to find people who can make it make sense for me, and I still don’t think anyone really understands what his master plan actually is. It appears he somehow acquires another basketball franchise and moves it to Los Angeles, but the show never explains it clearly enough to know whether that’s what actually happened. Considering he couldn’t take over the Waves, it seems like he simply bought another team instead, but it’s presented so awkwardly that I spent more time confused than intrigued.

That frustrating ending really highlights the show’s biggest weakness. It constantly introduces ideas without fully committing to them. Once Sandy’s relationship ends, that player more or less vanishes from the series. Ray Romano’s coach barely registers despite being one of the biggest casting additions. Jackie finally gets to stand up to Cam, but it doesn’t happen until the season is almost over. Every time the show finds something interesting, it immediately runs off chasing something else.

Oddly enough, I still like Running Point. It’s cluttered as hell. It’s discombobulated. It often has no idea what it wants to be. But the cast remains so effortlessly charming that I kept watching anyway. Kate Hudson is absolutely the engine that keeps this series alive. She has an infectious energy that makes Isla instantly watchable even when the writing around her starts spinning in circles. She’s also channeling her mother, Goldie Hawn, more and more, and I’d absolutely love to see the two of them share the screen. Running Point feels like the perfect vehicle to bring Goldie Hawn in for a guest appearance. It’s a comedy, it’s right up her alley, and even if it was only for one episode, watching her and Kate play off each other feels like comedy gold waiting to happen.

Season three actually has a fairly obvious roadmap if the writers are willing to simplify things. Focus on Cam once and for all. Let him become the central antagonist instead of bouncing between schemes. Give Sandy meaningful responsibilities beyond his love life. Figure out what Ness actually contributes to the series. Let Jackie return to being the lovable puppy dog that made him so endearing in the first place. Please, for the love of God, give Ali an actual season-long storyline instead of occasionally remembering Brenda Song exists. And if Ray Romano is coming back, figure out what Coach Norm Stinson is actually supposed to do. He was a smart casting choice, but the writers never seemed to have a plan for him. There are hints the team could be headed to Europe next season, although I could just as easily see the show abandoning that in favor of dealing with whatever bizarre announcement Cam made during the finale.

As for Cam himself, Justin Theroux makes for a very effective villain, but I’m ready for the character to evolve. At this point, it’s almost absurd that nobody around him realizes he’s still using drugs. The entire premise of the series began because his cocaine addiction spiraled so far out of control that Isla inherited the job. Now he’s apparently snorting cocaine every other episode without anyone noticing. Eventually, he has to go too far. Everybody has to finally see him for who he really is. And honestly, if the show hopes to last several more seasons, I don’t think Cam should end the series as the villain. The more rewarding story is watching him finally hit rock bottom, actually choose recovery, come back from rehab a genuinely changed person, and become a productive member of the family. But before redemption can happen, he has to lose everything.

I also have to give tremendous credit to the audio description. Produced by Descriptive Video Works and beautifully narrated by Nefertiti Matos Olivares, it’s excellent. Her voice is a perfect match for a female-led comedy, while the writing somehow manages to balance rapid-fire dialogue, physical comedy, the enormous ensemble, and a surprising amount of basketball action. Sports are one of those genres where the terminology actually matters. Without it, every possession just becomes, “They’re doing something over there. Time to play some basketball, I guess.” That would be like trying to describe The Mighty Ducks without understanding hockey. Instead, the description confidently uses the language of basketball, making every game feel as energetic and important as the show intends.

Running Point lands right on the edge for me. Narratively, it’s a cluttered mess with too many cooks in the kitchen and too many people throwing ideas around without anyone stopping to ask whether they all belong in the same season. But just like the final shot of a basketball game, the ball flies toward the hoop, hits the rim, bounces around almost cartoonishly, and somehow still drops through the net. Against all of its eccentricities, loose ends, and narrative chaos, Kate Hudson is fantastic, the ensemble remains entertaining, the audio description is first-rate, and somehow, despite all of my complaints, I still found myself enjoying the chaos within. Fresh.

Fresh: 6.0/10