'The Dink' Review: A Pickleball Underdog Story That Actually Has Some Bite

Apple’s new streaming original throws Jake Johnson onto a converted tennis court and asks him to save his family’s country club from a sport most people still can’t take seriously. That premise alone tells you everything about where ‘The Dink‘ sits in the comedy landscape right now, planted firmly in the tradition of scrappy athletic underdog stories that Hollywood used to churn out every summer. Director Josh Greenbaum, who previously balanced absurdist comedy with genuine sweetness, brings that same instinct here, and the timing could not be better given how much actual cultural noise pickleball has generated over the past few years.

Jake Johnson plays Dusty Boyd, a former teenage tennis prodigy whose career collapsed after an injury and whose adult life now consists of coaching bratty kids and nursing a grudge against the world. His father Chuck, played with cutting precision by Ed Harris, has weaponized that resentment into an all out campaign against pickleball’s takeover of the family club. When Dusty reinjures himself and can no longer play tennis, he stumbles into pickleball as physical therapy and, much to his own horror, starts to enjoy it.

That setup could easily curdle into something forgettable, and for stretches it does lean on familiar beats, but what elevates ‘The Dink’ past the usual streaming filler is how specific its characters feel. Johnson has always excelled at playing men who are simultaneously insufferable and weirdly endearing, and Dusty is one of his sharper creations in that mold, a guy so committed to his own bitterness that watching him slowly unclench becomes genuinely satisfying. Ed Harris gives Chuck just enough menace and just enough wounded pride that the father son conflict never feels like a cartoon.

The film’s real secret weapon is Mary Steenburgen as Candace, a recently divorced club member who becomes Dusty’s pickleball partner and eventual foil. Their scenes together crackle in a way the rest of the movie occasionally struggles to match, and the slow burn of their relationship is handled with more restraint than I expected from a film with this many broad gags. Aaron Chen, playing Dusty’s oddball friend PJ, gets some of the biggest laughs simply by refusing to play his weirdness for easy sympathy, and the climactic tournament stretch, which brings in real tennis figures playing exaggerated versions of themselves, gives the back half a jolt of energy the middle section sometimes lacks.

Not everything connects. Some of the comedic setups telegraph their punchlines a full scene in advance, and there are pockets where the movie seems unsure whether it wants to satirize sports movie clichés or simply indulge them. A few supporting subplots, particularly around the club’s other members, feel like they wandered in from a broader ensemble comedy and never quite justify their screen time. The pacing sags slightly in the middle third, right when the emotional stakes should be tightening instead of loosening.

Even with those rough patches, I found myself won over by how sincerely ‘The Dink’ commits to its own silliness. It knows exactly how ridiculous it is to build a redemption arc around a sport still fighting for respect, and it leans into that absurdity rather than apologizing for it. There’s a warmth running through the whole thing that keeps it from ever feeling cynical, even when the jokes don’t all land.

I walked away from ‘The Dink’ more charmed than I expected to be, carried largely by Johnson and Steenburgen’s chemistry and a script that has more heart than its silly premise suggests. It stumbles in its pacing and occasionally settles for the obvious joke, but the sincerity underneath keeps it afloat. I’m landing on 7 out of 10, a genuinely fun watch that earns its underdog ending even when it takes the scenic route to get there.