'Clipped' review: Fast-paced, well-acted retelling of Donald Sterling scandal
It was such a shame when HBO canceled “Winning Time” after two seasons, as there was so much more of the 1980s L.A. Lakers story to tell. The saga abruptly ended with the Celtics beating the Lakers in the 1984 NBA Finals, which is tantamount to ending “Rocky III” with Rocky’s exhibition match against Thunderlips. Come on, man!
The six-part series “Clipped,” streaming on Hulu but made by FX, doesn’t match “Winning Time” for the inventive camerawork or the Shakespearean level of melodramatics, but it’s a solid, well-acted and, yes, fictionalized look at the Donald Sterling scandal that rocked the Los Angeles Clippers, the NBA and the nation a decade ago.
Remember those stunning and sickening audio recordings that were leaked, with Sterling sounding like a racist plantation owner? Remember how there was talk of the Clippers boycotting Game 4 of their first-round playoff series against the Golden State Warriors, rather than take the court for a team whose owner thought he really did own them? My goodness, remember the temporarily famous V. Stiviano, the mystery lady who made those recordings of Sterling and who would appear in public on roller skates and/or wearing a visor, as if she were a welder in designer jeans?
All of that and more is covered in “Clipped,” which has a less compelling overall style than “Winning Time,” but holds us in its grips over a half-dozen fast-paced episodes, in large part due to the spot-on performances by Laurence Fishburne as Clippers coach Doc Rivers; Ed O’Neill as the boorish and cartoonishly terrible Sterling; Jacki Weaver as the well-meaning but elitist Shelley Sterling, and Cleopatra Coleman as the opportunistic V. Stiviano.
It can be a tricky thing playing real-life figures who are still with us. Fishburne wisely eschews any attempt at a Doc Rivers impersonation, yet still captures Rivers’ competitive spirit, his leadership skills — and the moments of self-doubt that surface when Doc arrives in L.A. as the new head coach of arguably the worst organization in all of sports after 10 years with the storied Boston Celtics.
In the opening episode, Don and Shelley Sterling host a tone-deaf, lavish and tacky “White Party” at their estate, with the guests all dressed in white, a Marilyn Monroe impersonator acting as some kind of M.C., and a plethora of attractive young women in attendance, as if we’re at some B-movie version of the Playboy Mansion. It’s immediately clear the Clippers are a team divided, with party attendees Blake Griffin (Austin Scott) and Chris Paul (J. Alphonse Nicholson) barely speaking to one another.
Much to Shelley Sterling’s disdain, Donald’s personal assistant V. Stiviano flaunts her presence at the party from the moment she roars up in her red Ferrari. This isn’t the first time Sterling has had a “special friend,” but V., who worships the Kardashians and has designs on becoming a reality TV star, is much more brazen than her predecessors. (She’s also almost pathetically unsophisticated, at one point proudly proclaiming, “I’m Mr. Sterling’s right-hand arm.”)
In subsequent episodes, we see that Donald and V. have a bizarre relationship that includes V. slathering cheap dye into Sterling’s receding hairline, rubbing Sterling’s feet — and getting into fights with him over her Instagram posts. With her bejeweled phone regularly set to “Record,” V. captures Sterling casually spewing ignorant, racist comments, e.g., “Why are you taking pictures with minorities?” and, “Don’t bring Black people to my games.” (Kudos to Ed O’Neill, such an inherently likable presence, for leaning into this role and presenting Sterling in all his lumbering, clumsy offensiveness.)
When Shelley tries to squeeze V. out of the picture, V. retaliates by leaking audio recordings to TMZ — and the Clippers find themselves in the middle of a media maelstrom even as they’re trying to focus on that playoff series against the Warriors. (Sheldon Bailey is a standout as DeAndre Jordan, who isn’t sure he can find a way to take the court as long as Donald Sterling owns the Clippers.)
As controversy rages and the media descend upon the scene, V. revels in her sudden burst of fame while Sterling flounders in a state of denial, unwilling to accept his fate and confused as to why there’s such a big fuss. (Spoiler alert: Sterling was banned from the NBA and forced to sell the Clippers, with Microsoft billionaire Steve Ballmer acquiring the team.)
“Clipped” takes on these serious issues with respect, but there’s also room for some decent if not particularly thrilling basketball sequences, and a few quirky detours. The great LeVar Burton plays LeVar Burton, who lives in the same luxury apartment building as Doc and keeps bumping into him in the sauna, where Burton dispenses wisdom and acts as a sounding board. Shopping for groceries, Doc runs into Elgin Baylor (Clifton Davis), the legendary Laker great who was general manager of the Clippers for more than two decades and seems utterly defeated by all those years of losing and working for Sterling. It’s also fun to see actors who sorta-kinda look like the players they’re portraying, e.g., Charlie McElveen as J.J. Reddick and Jock McKissic as Glen “Big Baby” Davis.
Mostly, though, it’s about those lead performances, with Laurence Fishburne, Ed O’Neill and Jacki Weaver turning in outstanding work, and Cleopatra Coleman making V. more than a caricature. Though “Clipped” regularly exercises poetic license, it’s a spiritually accurate re-creation of one of the most tumultuous and bizarre chapters in NBA history.