Cut
white party
Season 1
Episode 1
Editor’s note
Photo: Kelsey McNeal/FX
The “Curse of the Clippers” is a term used to describe the historical futility of the NBA’s weakest franchise, the Los Angeles Clippers, as Doc Rivers (Laurence Fishburne), the team’s new head coach from 2013 to 2014 , described in Cut as having gone 43 years without a championship and only reaching the second round twice. The Clips have since done better, including their first appearance in the Western Conference Finals in 2020-21, but until they reach the top of the mountain, they will be treated like the Boston Red Sox and Cubs of Chicago were during their championship droughts. (86 and 71, respectively.) The tiny percentage of Los Angeles sports fans who prefer the Clippers over the legendary Lakers — those who must tolerate being outnumbered at home games in their shared arena — have tend to have either great coping skills or sadomasochistic tendencies. Even victories are difficult.
A phrase like “Clippers Curse” makes it seem like some cosmic, unknowable force is responsible for the team’s continued struggles. In reality, the curse may rest on one man, Donald T. Sterling, who purchased the team for just $12.5 million while it was still in San Diego (LA is not known for its greats sailboats) in 1981 and retained until 2014, when new NBA commissioner Adam Silver banned him from the league following a racist audio recording. From the start, Sterling showed no interest in investing in a winning franchise despite having a net worth far greater than that of Lakers owner (and fellow real estate mogul) Jerry Buss, and his front office was plagued by dysfunctions and incompetence. There was always the feeling that Sterling viewed the Clippers as a vanity project, and the notion of “ownership” of his black players had an unmistakable plantation mentality. The franchise has had bigger problems than blowing a No. 1 pick on Michael Olowokandi.
Based on the six-episode podcast “30 for 30” by Ramona Shelburne Sterling business, Cut opens with a revealing narration from V. Stiviano (Cleopatra Coleman), the young personal assistant/accompanist whose recording would eventually bring down Sterling (Ed O’Neill): “Mr. Sterling always says some teams sell success . The Clippers are selling hope. In other words, winning wasn’t so much a priority as keeping the pigeons in play. Although the show briefly hints at the upcoming bombshell, creator Gina Welch, who wrote the episode, works hard to set places the Clippers’ losing culture starting with the man determined to change it. When Doc arrives at LAX for his first meeting with the team – this after leaving the Boston Celtics, the pristine franchise where he won his first and only coaching title – he is escorted by a Lakers fan in a Prius because that the Clips forgot to send a driver. When he arrives hungry for lunch, he asks for a bento box but has to accept the sad charcuterie platter ordered by the boss.
For Doc, this is all standard. He played under Sterling as a guard in the 1991-92 season and hated the man like everyone else, but the league had changed and so had his stature. Plus, as he tells the driver: “I like challenges.” His strategy throughout the events of this first episode is to tolerate Sterling’s behavior and do everything possible to protect his players, who were arguably the most talented core in Clippers history. If they could all put some blinders on and focus on basketball, then they could win a title. despite Sterling does his best to sabotage them. Doc comes in with a lot more influence than he had as a player, and the “Lob City” trio – future Hall of Famer Chris Paul (J. Alphonse Nicholson) at point guard, l high-flying forward Blake Griffin (Austin) Scott) and hyper-athletic rim protector DeAndre Jordan (Sheldon Bailey) – would be one of the most formidable cores in the league.
From the team’s perspective, the problems are immediate. Doc walks in the door intending to sign sharpshooter JJ Redick (Charlie McElveen) to a reasonable contract, no small feat for a team struggling to sign free agents. He wins the argument after much cajoling with the owner and with a skeptical Redick, but the deal is almost called off when Sterling gets cold feet, expressing surprise, among other things, to learn that Redick is white. (Sterling’s habit of soliciting player options from random people in his orbit was notorious.) With that obstacle cleared, others follow, like Sterling leading around his “fabulous” players like discount ponies. prize during his famous annual “White Party” or bursting into the locker room with his entourage, where he questions Jordan about his measurements. It is obvious to the players, the blacks in particular, that Sterling did not view them as humans but as property.
But at least it’s up to Doc to deal with these issues. Outside the clubhouse, a much bigger storm is brewing around V., who may be just the latest in a succession of young women to serve as “assistant”/driver/arm candy/lover of Sterling, but proves to be the most dangerous. Sterling’s wife, Shelly (Jacki Weaver), has learned to tolerate her husband’s grotesque womanizing over the years in exchange for the lucrative business and lavish lifestyle they have built for themselves, but V. crosses line. Between the money V. receives for “gifts” like a red Ferrari convertible and her ostensible “hoochie” presence at the White Party, in the arena and on social media, public humiliation for Shelly has become a acute source of misery. Something must be do about V. and the tension between the three is what starts the bushfire that consumes the entire organization.
Among the strengths of this first episode is the conception of Shelly, who is ostensibly the victim in this scenario but who is not herself seen as innocent. She and Donald are partners, after all, and while the episode doesn’t touch on the horrendous cases of housing discrimination that should have led to Sterling’s expulsion from the league much earlier, its retrograde attitudes are generously spread throughout the hour. Among friends at the party, she denounces Obamacare as evidence of “the rise of takers,” suggesting the laziness of the younger generation, then heads to the kitchen to micromanage an employee who puts too much broccoli in the tray of vegetables. Being a billionaire, as culture repeatedly teaches us, means losing some sense of self-awareness, in addition to any sense of how ordinary people live or the respect they should receive. This problem is not limited to Donald Sterling.
As for V., she’s not exactly an avatar of racial justice but an influence-seeking opportunist looking to get whatever she can from her loathsome sugar daddy. Enjoying the benefits of being close to a team owner threatens to make him primarily a rental, vulnerable to being deposited at any time without much to show for his time with Sterling. To that end, she managed to get the car, and she’s trying to take it a step further by cajoling Sterling into buying a $1.8 million duplex for her, her sister, and her two adopted children. This purchase, combined with her bold declaration to Shelly that she will be “the next Mrs. Sterling,” makes her a big enough threat in Shelly’s eyes to do something the Sterlings are notoriously eager to do: bring the case before the courts. Except that here, V. has a powerful card to play.
• Fun sidebar on V.’s strange skepticism of DeAndre Jordan. First, she cheekily asks Doc if he plans to trade Jordan. Later, she talks about her reputation as a possible “draft” player entering the league. Both deserve severe reprimands. (And both are incorrect. Jordan is always get league minutes in 2024.)
• The “Mr. Sterling” is real, so Doc’s refusal to call him that (“I’ll call him Mr. Sterling when he calls me Mr. Rivers”) is an early display of power.
• Does Redick tell Doc about the rumors that the pound is so cheap that he once complained about having to buy socks for his players? That happened.
• A fascinating subplot about the tension between Chris Paul and Blake Griffin over the direction of the team. Not everyone appreciates Paul’s aggressive, relentless perfectionism, and it’s no small triumph for Doc to convince both men to calm down. Still, Paul takes a nice dig at the White Party, when Sterling points to Griffin: “You don’t let yourself be led by the hand unless you want to be led by the hand.”
• Keep an eye out for Harriet Sansom Harris, featured here as one of Shelly’s friends. Harris has a long list of major film and stage successes, but she recently distinguished herself as a scene-stealer in two consecutive Paul Thomas Anderson films – once as a difficult customer in Ghost wirestill as a Hollywood agent in Licorice pizza.
“Look at this guy’s eyes. This is the wisdom of the Jurassic. “Damn gecko.” The Chinese water dragon is the bonsai of the reptile world. DeAndre Jordan, lizard lover.