I Am ‘Ted Lasso’s’ Total Lack of Surprise
If you’re wondering why Season Three of Ted Lasso has felt … off, it’s because the show has nothing new to say.
It’s funny how time ruins everything1. The conversation surrounding Ted Lasso used to be “Is this show too positive or is it giving the entire world life-giving energy?” but as its third season comes to an end the conversation is more “Is this show even any good?2” The sprawling, hourlong episodes, the distinct lack of Ted Lasso (Jason Sudekis) in Ted Lasso, the deep dives into side characters we didn’t care much about in the first place—all of these things have conspired to drag down the show’s reputation.
I’m still enjoying Ted Lasso3, but I admit the show’s wandering has undercut its effectiveness a bit. As a comedy tasked with making me laugh, it still works, as I laugh frequently throughout each episode. As a work of fiction telling a story, it’s been less effective despite the indulgence of time allowing the writers to explore nooks and crannies of this world to their heart’s content4. The reason it’s been less effective isn’t complex: The show has run out of surprises.
If That's a Joke, I Love It. If Not, Can't Wait to Unpack That With You Later
The slow erosion of surprise is something that every work of serial fiction struggles with. You start off with characters, setting, and dynamics that your audience is unfamiliar with. Everything that happens is a happy surprise. When Ted Lasso kicked off, we didn’t know much about the characters or the universe they were occupying. Why was Ted such an agreeable dweeb5? Would Rebecca (Hannah Waddingham) regret using him and Coach Beard (Brendan Hunt) as part of her revenge plan against her ex-husband Rupert (Anthony Head)? Would Jamie Tartt (Phil Dunster) ever get his head out of his own ass6?
There were also tiny mysteries that added to the fun of the show. Where was Ted getting those delightful biscuits he gave to Rebecca every day? Why was Roy Kent (Brett Goldstein) so angry all the time7? Would Nate (Nick Mohammed) ever find a backbone and stand up for himself?
That sense of discovery is what drives every new piece of fiction, and certainly doesn’t guarantee success. But in order for a show’s writing, acting, and directing to shine and deliver a successful entertainment you need that sense of discovery at first. It dissipates kind of fast—by the time you’re done with a book or film, it’s more or less over. With a serial fiction it’s usually gone by the end of the introductory season—and then the problem is where in the world do you go from there8? This is what happened with Ted Lasso: By the end of the first season we had most of the answers we needed. Conflicts were resolved (a specialty of this show), answers provided, and most of the characters had gone through some kind of arc that seemed to bring them to a resting point.
Ever since, it’s been diminishing returns.
It's Kind of Like Back in the '80s When 'Bad' Meant 'Good.'
The problem is simple: Now that we know why Ted has anxiety, that Rebecca is actually a good person, that Leslie Higgins (Jeremy Swift) plays stand-up bass and has the happiest marriage in the history of the universe, now that we know that Roy and Jamie are secretly best friends and that Keeley Jones (Juno Temple) is a pretty smart cookie, what else is there to discover9?
Not much. And the result is this saggy, sloppy third season. The show doesn’t have a through-line any more. There are good jokes in there, well-written scenes, solid performances. But it doesn’t coalesce into anything solid because there’s nothing holding it all together any more. The character of Ted Lasso has spent an inordinate amount of time this season smiling in the background of scenes because we’ve settled his account, there’s nothing else to discover10.
Some shows deal with this by inventing new traumas, new problems, new failures to litigate. Characters spin through endless horrors as we chase after the drama and payoff of their redemption arcs and epiphanies11. This can work, to an extent, but eventually the misery porn of seeing characters endlessly battle disease, addiction, betrayal, and the terrible force of their own (usually inexplicably) bad decisions gets wearying. It can keep the plates spinning for a while, but it eventually ends in the same place: Boredom.
Ted Lasso is trying to do it differently. It’s trying to explore the supporting characters more fully, to find weird corners of its universe to dig into12. There’s some credit to that, to resisting the urge to have Ted get hooked on painkillers or have Jamie suddenly learn he has six illegitimate children or some similar bullshit. Instead, the show is attempting to leave settled accounts settled and find interesting stuff in the margins. It’s the writing equivalent of searching the couch cushions for spare change when the rent is due, and it works about as well13.
Of course, in some ways it’s amazing Ted Lasso worked as well as it did for as long as it did, being such a conflict-adverse show with a main character who is 50% Foghorn Leghorn, 40% mustache, and 10% Marty Sue of the Ages14. Blessed with perfect timing, that first season will forever be remembered as a jolt of positivity in a dark time, but it was always a show born out of an advertising campaign that way overdelivered.
Of course, there is a non-zero chance this is all just jealousy of Ted’s glorious facial hair, which Your Humble Author could not equal without undergoing some sort of mustache transplant surgery15.
Next week: Silo has a Three’s Company Problem.
For example, when I was 9 years old my haircut was “adorable.” Today, it’s “crazy people hair.” Life is a hideous bitch goddess.
In the Age of Algorithmic Content, however, the real question is whether this even matters any more.
Then again, I also enjoy old Benny Hill reruns, so my taste in entertainments is … suspect.
It’s actually a very frustrating fact of storytelling (and art in general, I think) that constriction — of time to work, space to work in, et al — produces better work, and freedom produces less interesting stuff. It’s one reason why many artists become kind of boring once they hit great success. Luckily I’m still broke as a joke and ruined by incompetence.
And was his mustache CGI? To be honest, I’m still not sure about this one.
Also: Jamie Tartt’s hair is pretty much the main reason I keep watching these days. It is … breathtaking in its awfulness.
Also, why al all the football players in such unspectacular shape? Ted Lasso makes it look like I could play 15 minutes in the Premiere League, and that can’t be right. I got winded typing that sentence, and I was a kid who considered Gym Class to be Hell.
If you’re most TV shows, the answer is to erase almost all progress and reset everything back to square one so you can do it all again! And then again and again! And again!
As much as I love the character of Coach Beard in small increments, the answer here is not More Coach Beard, despite the best efforts of the show.
The show hilariously(?) puts a lampshade on this in the penultimate episode, when Rebecca shows up in Ted’s office and says this is the moment each year when she drops a truth bomb on him, but this year she doesn’t have one. The fourth wall cracks and shimmies, and everyone at home nods wearily: Yes, Rebecca, we know you have no more truth bombs. We’ve seen them all.
This leads to Very Special Episodes like “The One Where Ted Becomes Addicted to Heroin for Five Days” or “The One Where Someone Touches Roy Kent’s Ass and He Has to Deal With an Overpowering Sense of Shame.” Wait a second, I actually want to watch these. TO THE FAN FICTION ARCHIVES!
Again: The writers seem to think Coach Beard is a deep well of fascinating stuff. He is not.
I live a largely cashless life, which means there have been zero coins in the couch cushions for a long time now. Instead, when I need money I click over to my Substack dashboard and imagine if every one of you paid me $25 a week for these essays, then cry myself to sleep.
Even when Ted Lasso is being Led Tasso he’s nicer than 99% of real people.
Whenever I let my facial hair grow, I wind up looking very, very Methhead-y.
I am pretty sure I am the only person alive who didn’t like any season of Ted. Partly because I was am American in London for five years so we instinctively hated “so weird they drive on the left here” or football bs soccer. And Ted first season is full of such observations. And second it’s just style I guess. I love derry girls,kudrow’s the comeback and the early curb your enthusiasms. And this is the polar opposite. The female owner is pretty shardp but otherwise the show was just meh and often irritating, especially so given its fanatic and enormous fan club.
Hands off my Ted Lasso.
Some days, what we really need is a Ted Channel—all Ted, all the time.
And what about the crossover episodes?
Wouldn’t you love to see Ted in a BusyTown-like traffic mess and have Happy Valley’s Sarah Lancashire respond and deliver one of her rapid-fire monologues leaving everyone gaping like fish? (Did you see her visit to the head master’s office in defense of her grandson?)
Will Roy hook up with the teacher? Reunite with Keeley? Will Keeley say “yeah, whatever, laters” to Jack who, for all her wealth and connections, is shallower and more morally bankrupt than a first year pro footballer?
And what will Becks Becks and assistant do to make Rupert a has been, was heard, no influence yawn?
Nate? Don’t care.
We need more Doctor Sharon.
And will Rebecca and House Boat man ever learn each other’s names?
And Roy and Jamie “secretly best friends?” No no no no. They both matured enough and did their homework and put their time in to develop the best relationship of their lives, but they still want Keeley. No secrets there, anywhere.
And Sam? More Sam. All the time.
We’ll always have streaming.