A washed-up tennis prodigy turns to pickleball to help recuperate from a wrist injury in The Dink, a low-key but generally agreeable sports comedy now streaming on Apple TV+. Backed by an impressive cast, fun cameos and a breezy atmosphere, this new feature from director Josh Greenbaum (Strays) has all the ingredients for a winning underdog sports movie except one: consistent laughs.
The Dink stars Jake Johnson as Dusty Boyd, a former tennis prodigy whose promising career was derailed by a wrist injury and a humiliating defeat against future tennis star Andy Roddick (who plays himself in a featured role). Now middle-aged and working as an instructor at his father Chuck’s (Ed Harris) tennis club, Dusty still clings to the glory of his past while struggling to earn the respect of the man who pushed him toward greatness.
Following another wrist injury, Dr. Stone (Ben Stiller) suggests Dusty try out pickleball to help him recover. And a growing friendship with older pickleball player Candace (Mary Steenburgen) introduces him to the sport he once dismissed as beneath tennis, Dusty finds himself reluctantly drawn into a world that may offer him a second chance.
The screenplay by Sean Clements wastes little time establishing where this story is headed. From the opening scenes, when Dusty aggressively confronts Candace over a pickleball court on his father’s property, we know that he will eventually embrace the sport he initially despises, repair his relationship with his father and discover that there is more to life than the achievements he lost.
Or will he? The Dink takes so long to reach its expected emotional destination that it creates the impression that it might subvert the formula. Dusty’s transformation arrives surprisingly late in the film, and by the time the climactic showdown against Roddick finally arrives, it feels less like a natural progression than a requirement the movie has remembered to fulfill. Thankfully, the final match is still entertaining, and while largely ignoring the intricacies of the sport to this point, Greenbaum stages the climactic pickleball action with enough energy to make the conclusion satisfying.
The film’s greatest asset is its cast. Johnson brings an easygoing charm to Dusty, a character who could easily become unbearable given his arrogance and misplaced nostalgia. Instead, Johnson finds the insecurity beneath the bluster, making Dusty an appealing if deeply flawed protagonist. His chemistry with Steenburgen is also a highlight; she brings warmth and humor to Candace, whose patience and maturity provide a sharp contrast to Dusty’s arrested development.
Harris adds some more pedigree as Dusty’s demanding father Chuck, even if the screenplay does not give him enough material to fully explore their complicated relationship. Harris brings an almost frightening authority to the role, and the tension between Chuck’s expectations and Dusty’s need for approval provides the film with its strongest emotional foundation.
The supporting cast is packed with familiar faces. Stiller has a pair of loosely engaging scenes as Dusty’s eccentric doctor, Patton Oswalt plays the sport’s enthusiastic representative, and Chris Parnell pops up as a tennis rival. Fortune Feimster, Steve Berg, Cleo King and Lynne Marie Stewart (in her final role) appear as competitive pickleballers, while Aaron Chen is fitfully amusing as Dusty’s overly devoted friend PJ. John McEnroe gets a fun cameo as himself, echoing similar appearances in Adam Sandler comedies, providing commentary during the final match.
The main issue with The Dink is that the comedy never quite matches its premise. Despite its talented performers, the screenplay rarely provides them with genuinely funny material. Much of the humor comes from the basic contrast between tennis elitism and pickleball enthusiasm, but the film never pushes that idea far enough. The result is a comedy where the actors are often left to generate laughs through personality rather than through the writing itself.
The screenplay occasionally finds its footing. References to The Graduate, country music and the absurd seriousness with which people approach recreational sports provide some amusing moments, and a late sequence involving Parnell’s character delivers one of the film’s better comedic payoffs. But these highlights are scattered throughout a story that too often settles for predictable situations rather than sharper jokes.
There is also a missed opportunity in the film’s treatment of pickleball itself. Movies like Dodgeball and Balls of Fury (not to mention Marty Supreme) succeed because they embrace the ridiculousness of their sports while also understanding their rules, culture and competitive appeal. The Dink, by comparison, mostly treats pickleball as a punchline. Aside from basic concepts like staying out of “the kitchen” and the importance of the titular strategy, akin to a drop shot in tennis, the film never fully digs into its central sport.
Director Greenbaum keeps things moving with a clean, accessible style, and the film’s relaxed tone makes it an easy watch. There is enough charm here to make the film enjoyable, particularly thanks to Johnson, Steenburgen and the strong ensemble around them. But despite the presence of so many talented performers, The Dink feels more like a pleasant streaming diversion than a fully realized sports comedy.
