Ted Lasso Just Let Its Final Brain Cell Slip Away

5 min readIsn’t anyone tired? As of today, Ted Lasso has ended its fourth season with a long, dreary, and at times emotionally manipulative hour-long ordeal. (A down-tempo cover of the theme by Brandi Carlile? Come on.) Season 4 as a whole has felt like a stretched-out epilogue for season 3’s big ending, ten episodes in the spirit of those one-line tags in an ’80s comedy’s credits. (“Jane wrote a whole play based on her failed marriage to Beard. Nate became the head coach of the Polish national team.”) Though there have been seeds for bigger things—and times I was convinced Lasso had turned a corner in its quality—this anticlimactic finale reveals how rudderless this show has become.What even is Ted Lasso anymore? No, really, I’m asking. What is Ted Lasso?Is it still a comedy? A drama? Is it even about Jason Sudeikis’s main character? Is he searching for love or trying to be a better father (who doesn’t lie to his kid)? After five years, does he finally know what offside means in soccer? I don’t mind him having different things at once. But when a whole-ass season ends with no resolution and no inkling about the title character, I call into question if we’re watching a television show or a desktop screen saver.“Being Alive,” the tenth and final episode of Ted Lasso season 4, has only one real major story to resolve: Who’s buying up all the Richmond shares? We finally find out about three quarters of the way through the episode, when Zelda (Tracey Ullman) suddenly reveals her scheme as the new sole owner of Richmond AFC at a nearly empty shareholders meeting. So, why? Because—drumroll—she’s a woman, and she wants to prove herself in a man’s world. Her shtick of “women helping women” at the start winds up being more selfish than she let on, because the woman she was helping was herself all along.Colin HuttonGoodbye, Ted ... again.This would be devastating. Unfortunately, we’re watching Ted Lasso. Because this is a show about unrealistic people, Higgins (Jeremy Swift) and Rebecca (Hannah Waddingham) feign shock and anger until they quickly turn the tables back on Zelda. They’ve known it all along, apparently, and secretly bought their shares back from Zelda’s minion, adding them to the shares Mae left to Rebecca in her will. (Also, the three dweebs who loiter around Mae’s pub are now its owners, which is nice. Like I said, this show is like the end credits of an ’80s movie.) And of course Rebecca forgives Zelda, even though she would be very justified in tossing her out of the room.With that storyline going out like a wet fart, the rest of the ho-hum finale treads ground that is just as directionless. Keeley (Juno Temple) and Roy (Brett Goldstein) spin their wheels with her pregnancy and essentially do a rerun of last week’s episode. Roy gets fairly massive news: a job offer to coach Chelsea. Roy spends the rest of the episode contemplating his dilemma until he arrives at the inevitable conclusion of taking the job. Rebecca’s livid, of course, and her anger is almost refreshing given how goddamn soft everyone is most of the time. But they still hug it out in the end, because this is Ted Lasso. What? You wanted more?I don’t know if this means Brett Goldstein—also a writer and producer on the series—has written himself out, or if it is just a change of direction for Roy. Either way, it is bizarre to do something like this when Keeley’s pregnant with their child. Keeley is sure to stick around next season, but Roy? Will Keeley talk about him in the same way we just assume the men’s team is just hanging around in the locker room across the hallway? The men’s cameo at the end of the episode is extra funny when you remember that they haven’t technically gone anywhere. With the exception of Obisanya, most of them still play for Richmond and are presumably just out of frame at all times.As for the rest, I resent that Beard’s story with Jane has been reduced to a joke, and while Alice’s promotion to team manager is sweet, I don’t buy that she’s ready yet. We don’t actually see how the team performed in its final game—there were truly no stakes going into it at all—and since New Year’s she’s been in a bizarre limbo state now that the drama around her relationship with the players has become vapor. It was at least interesting when Alice was iced out socially from the team, and it could be interesting to see her be for them what Ted became for the men. But this in-between gray area where they are cordial, even friendly, but distant? Again I ask: What is this show about anymore?Perhaps the most frustrating story, ultimately, is Ted’s. The man has too many different storylines and not enough gas to get through any of them. We spend virtually half the season worrying about his romantic prospects, culminating with his ex-wife creating a new BELIEVE sign. Although the stage-manager tease went nowhere—what a dumb red herring in hindsight—it wouldn’t have been terrible to keep it going somehow. Again, I predicted something along the lines of Mae having a hot, age-appropriate relative taking over her pub, which would have made the Henry stuff even more interesting because of his attachment to the place.But the death of Mae has inspired an altogether different path for Ted, one that’s about loss and honesty and which Ted grapples with until the end. We know the tragic circumstances of Ted’s father’s death. But Ted is shaken when Henry—in the midst of mourning Mae—asks about it and Ted lies to protect him (and maybe himself too). It’s great that Ted recognizes his misstep and tries to be honest with his son. He doesn’t know how until the reunion of the Diamond Dogs, which is grating until it’s a little beautiful when Alice imparts wisdom about being present (which might have been, one wonders, informed by her own relationship with her father).I don’t mind this diversion for Ted in a vacuum. But did it have to happen now? As the season 4 finale? I often vibe with finales that prioritize character climaxes over plot. (See: Lanterns.) But Lasso has been exclusively “anything but plot” for weeks now. And Ted hasn’t had an issue being honest with his kid until, like, today.Remember when this show was exciting? Remember when it was funny? Remember when this show had some real drama and stakes and a feeling that the floor could open up at any moment and a delicate house of cards could come crashing down? (Remember when Rebecca was the villain?) I remember when Ted Lasso was many good things. These days, I doubt I’ll have a clue what show I’m tuning in to when season 5 eventually comes around.