Today it might be easy to dismiss the limited series about the Donald Sterling scandal. Even when it first surfaced 10 years ago, after gossip site TMZ published recordings of racist comments by the one-time owner of the Los Angeles Clippers, the whole thing still had an unpleasant, tabloid-like feel — one that ignited a firestorm of criticism that stunned the sports world and forced the team to be sold.
Making the situation even more murky: Sterling was recorded by a young female companion who was not his wife, leading some to speculate that she had leaked the audio during a power struggle with her husband. (The woman then said she did not leak the tape herself and that she and Sterling never had a romantic relationship; the series suggests that this was at least a strong possibility.)
But FX was cut As its six episodes unfold, it delves deeper, using Sterling’s abrasive toxicity to leverage a story about money, power, class, race and more — asking powerful questions about what people must accept to access wealth, privilege and prized achievements.
A team crippled by an unpredictable owner
The story begins with the arrival in Los Angeles of coach Doc Rivers, played as a savvy optimist by the barrel-chested Laurence Fishburne — a former NBA All-Star and well-reputed coach hired from Boston to shape up a team he once played for. When asked by a fan why Rivers, as a championship coach, would join a franchise considered one of the worst in the league, he simply replies: “I like the challenge.”
But Rivers soon discovers that his biggest challenge is the team’s owner – an eccentric real estate mogul who treats players like prized possessions, monopolizes meetings with long, absurd monologues, and spouts racist and sexist platitudes without regard for the consequences. Think Donald Trump with an even less filter and a more blatant tone.
modern Family Alumnus Ed O’Neill portrays Sterling as an irascible, playful eccentric who is oblivious to the devastation he causes, and confident that his wealth and power secure and justify his actions.
Based on the ESPN 30 for 30 podcast Sterling Cases, FX was cut A scenario carefully laid out later in the series, with Australian actress Jacki Weaver playing particularly smartly as Stirling’s long-suffering wife, Shelly. At the beginning, we watch with sympathy as she watches her 60-year-old husband lavish expensive clothes, accommodations and Ferraris on a beautiful young assistant, whom everyone assumes is his girlfriend, V. Stiviano (Cleopatra Coleman).
Eventually, we’ll discover that behind Shelly’s good-natured scatterbrainedness lies a harshly calculating personality—and that’s why she and Donald have stayed married all their lives.
Exposing Donald Sterling’s covert racism
When Shelly asks her husband to remove Stiviano from their life, gossip website TMZ publishes a recording of Donald urging his assistant to stop posting photos of herself on social media with famous black men, such as retired basketball star Earvin “Magic” Johnson. “It bothers me a lot that you want to broadcast that you’re associating with black people,” Sterling argued in an exchange shown on TMZ’s website.
Sterling’s questionable behavior has been a dirty secret inside the NBA for years, but the leaked audio has forced Rivers and the Clippers players to decide if they will boycott the game just as the team is winning. Tensions are already brewing in professional basketball between the highly talented, well-paid, mostly Black players and the white owners, staff and fans surrounding them; Sterling’s recording has put all of those tensions on full display.
But what’s really interesting is Clipped, The scandal forces everyone around Sterling to confront the compromises they’ve made to get what they’ve achieved. The players must choose between taking a principled stand or winning a historic championship. Flashbacks show Stiviano struggling to run a failing food truck business before a friend teaches her how to ingratiate herself with powerful, wealthy men to pay her bills.
Later, the same friend reminds Stiviano that it’s time for her to get real money from Donald Sterling. “You’re 31 years old…like cream curd,” she adds. “It’s just like playing ball. They give you 15 years to earn, then you have to find your own revenue source.”
Rivers recalls 1991, when he was a Clippers player, at the height of the Los Angeles police beating of black motorist Rodney King, and wonders if his decision to remain silent at the time was a mistake he is now repeating by urging his players not to boycott Sterling.
While dealing with all of this, Coach has an unexpected confidante: actor, director and TV host LeVar Burton, who plays himself, befriends Rivers in the steam room they both frequent. Relaxing in the living room of Rivers’ posh condo, the two men have a revealing conversation about how they’re caught between the comforts of success in a white-dominated America and the consequences of successful black people venting their anger at racial injustice.
“America first met me as (slave youth) Kunta Kinte (in the miniseries) Roots) … Then I taught their kids and maintained the integrity of their favorite spaceship … Soon, people began to consider me safe,” Burton says, adding that when he took actions in public that were construed as acrimonious or remotely confrontational, he paid a financial price.
“Therefore I throw away the chains ( Roots) on my living room wall,” he adds. “I want to let (house guests) know that I’m obviously their friend, but I’m absolutely livid.”
Facing the reality of compromise
But does such anger, even when expressed publicly, bring about lasting change? was cut‘, which I will not describe in detail here, leaves the answer in serious doubt.
It’s tempting to compare was cut With another iconic TV show about a failed Los Angeles-based basketball team: HBO’s series on the Lakers, Time to winNo doubt sports fans can criticise was cut Having some of the same weaknesses: situations were changed for increased drama, figures such as Rivers (who was involved in the production as a consultant) were given a more flattering portrayal, and an excessive recreation of a scandal already well known to many.
still, was cut It aims a little higher, teasing out a story in which everyone involved is both more — and less — than meets the eye. Its message about the ubiquity of compromise and the enduring power of money can be a little hard to get across, though.