THE HAWK Episodes 1.1-1.3

Here is the decision, and the language settles it before anything else does. THE HAWK is a genuinely funny show. Will Ferrell is fully committed, Fortune Feimster is a delight, and the golf is shot with more style than the sport usually gets.
Then there are the counts. Episode 1.1 alone carries 73 obscenities and profanities, 30 of them "f" words, plus five very strong profanities, two uses of "Oh My God" and the name of Jesus Christ used as a curse. Episode 1.2 adds 31 more and another "Jesus Christ." Episode 1.3 adds 36. That is not seasoning. That is the dialogue.
Around it runs everything else: heavy sexual references and provocative dancing, a scene depicting an erection, a man in a thong, eight scenes of drinking and one of drunkenness, plus bribery, gambling, stealing, lying and adultery.
Three stars means the comedy works. It does not mean the show is worth your hours or your ears. Give this one a pass.

Twenty years ago Lonnie "The Hawk" Hawkins lost the tournament that ended his career, and he has the mullet, the sleeveless polo and the sunburned neck to prove he never got over it.
Now he is coming out of retirement to chase the one thing that always eluded him — a career Grand Slam — and to settle a long grudge with his smug arch-rival, Golden Fisk.
The complication is family. Golf's newest rising star is his own son.

Three stars, and they are for the commitment. Two decades after TALLADEGA NIGHTS and BLADES OF GLORY, Ferrell is back in the world he does best — the absurd, ego-driven realm of the washed-up sports icon — and his total investment in the bit carries scenes that would collapse under anyone else.
The show around him is sharper than it looks. The camera treats a golf ball's trajectory as hyper-stylized action and turns a tense putt into high-stakes drama. Feimster is the find: as Sam, Lonnie's unbothered caddy, she is the grounded counterweight to all that manic energy, and the laughs are instant.
It borrows openly from HAPPY GILMORE and EASTBOUND & DOWN. But by the third episode it locates something of its own — Ferrell shifting between deluded swagger and the quiet vulnerability of an aging athlete, and a ridiculous quest with real heart under the punchlines.

THE HAWK runs on a strong humanistic worldview: man controls everything, and God never comes up. Not argued with, simply absent. In a story about a man chasing greatness, no one above him ever enters the frame.
Lonnie is the argument. He makes everything about himself and cares about exactly one thing, and the series is clear-eyed about the wreckage — a son he has no relationship with, a wife he is divorcing, a family gathering abandoned for a tee time. The comedy is generous toward him; the consequences are not, and that is to the show's credit.
There is one stray reference to manifestation and one to homosexuality, carried along without comment.
Where it costs the viewer most is the mouth. A relentless stream of strong profanity. The name of Jesus Christ used as a curse in two of these three episodes. Vulgar jokes built on anatomy, aging bodies and unfiltered bodily functions. The first of those is the third commandment, not a matter of taste, and it is the biggest single reason a funny show carries a warning this heavy.
The third episode gets nearer the truth than the worldview does: Lonnie's swing fails, his ego cracks, and he has to remember why he ever picked up a club. Scripture puts the same question to every self-made man: "What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes" (James 4:14).

Ferrell is funny. Feimster is funnier. The golf looks terrific, and by the third episode there is a real man under the mullet. None of that survives the relentless profanity, the anatomical jokes, or the name of Christ used as a curse. Our answer stands: skip it. Looking for something the family can actually watch? Start with our family-friendly picks.