How much Will Ferrell is too much? Well The Hawk, a brand new Netflix series in which he plays a washed-up golfer, answers that question within the first five minutes. After that, there’s only 295 more to get through. If you didn’t mind him before, well – this series is here to change your mind. And then some.

In fact, The Hawk delights in indulging all of Ferrell’s worst comedic instincts and squashing the better ones. He plays Lonnie Hawkins, AKA The Hawk: a former world pro who is currently languishing in the small-time golf leagues after missing out on the US World Open several years ago. Soon enough, Lonnie is catapulted on a journey back to the top. Or, really, proceeds to fail upwards, thanks to a rivalry with his son Lance (Jimmy Tatro) and the desire to get his ex-wife Stacy (Molly Shannon) back.

There is nothing original about this show. Lonnie is a pastiche of every single character Ferrell has played over the last two decades: shades of Ron Burgundy, Buddy The Elf and Step Brothers‘ Brennan Huff all abound here, but with the crassness dialled right up. In the first few minutes of episode one, Ferrell is twerking on the field as Sisqó’s ‘Thong Song’ plays, asking his competitors if they want to drink some “Lonnie juice” and spraying water around like he’s in a wet t-shirt contest.

Lonnie is also spectacularly unlikeable – and the series itself seems uncertain about whether to cast him as a hero or a villain, so he sits somewhere in the middle. When his long-standing friend dies, he takes the opportunity to rob the body before the paramedics kick him out of the ambulance.

Does he go to the funeral afterwards? Does he hell! There’s a match to play. When he finally puts in an appearance, after everybody else has left, he runs into Stacy and enters the crematorium sporting a boner. Later, he crashes his estranged son’s engagement party while steaming drunk and turns it into an announcement of his career comeback.

Ferrell plays the whole thing with an ‘aw, shucks’ energy that implies we’re still meant to like and root for Lonnie. But Lonnie is despicable, with no real redeeming qualities. Weak attempts to grasp for depth are quickly sidelined in the pursuit of more dick jokes. Even Lance, who should command the lion’s share of sympathy as Lonnie’s put-upon son, is given a bizarre semi-incestuous storyline which involves his mother kissing him on the lips after every golf win.

Fortune Feimster, who plays his new caddy Sam, doesn’t help. Her main contribution to the show is to underline Lonnie’s blue humour with more of her own. There’s hardly any plot to tell you about, either. The writers attempt to work in storylines, but they mostly serve as a way to link together scenes in which Ferrell whispers seductive things to his golf balls, or dry humps a sand trap in the throes of a temper tantrum. Somehow, he still comes out on top – the last word in male privilege. Fans of Ferrell’s work might find some straws to grasp at here; for everybody else, his latest work is considerably under par.

‘The Hawk’ is available to watch July 16 on Netflix

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