One consequence of the current glut of streaming platforms is a deluge of shows to fill them: ones to suit every attention span, ones to fill potential gaps during periods of viewer inactivity, ones that might make certain streaming services less important while others take the lead. And stories get told and retold again and again. Romantic comedies are starting to feel the samey-money. Dating reality shows are resorting to the same dramatic tricks (often well, it must be said). Another consequence of this is that, for better or worse, the stories being told are drawing more from direct memory. Yes, of course, there are still documentary series about real crimes from the 1970s and financial crimes from the 1980s. But there is also a wave of salacious retellings, such as “White Hot: The Rise and Fall of Abercrombie & Fitch” and the scripted drama about Theranos fraudster Elizabeth Holmes, Hulu’s 2022 series “The Dropout.” I’m not entirely opposed to the repetition of recent events. When made well (like the aforementioned The Dropout, featuring an award-winning performance from Amanda Seyfried), it can function as an insightful digest of not-too-distant news events, or at the very least, a fun reliving of moments you experienced but barely remember.
I vividly remember the evening of April 25, 2014, when TMZ released audio of Los Angeles Clippers owner Donald Sterling (the subject of the FX show Clipped, which ended on Tuesday) scolding his assistant and lover V. Stiviano for posting photos on Instagram of him near black people. The photo with Magic Johnson in particular was the start of the altercation. The audio transcript is wide-ranging and bizarre, with Sterling at one point veering off to talk about the treatment of black Jews in Israel to justify his views on race. He insists that Stiviano not come to a Clippers game if he brings a black person. Part of the altercation has the two arguing about then-Dodgers outfielder Matt Kemp (with whom Stiviano also posed for photos), discussing Kemp's racial makeup and whether it was OK to post a photo of Stiviano with him on Instagram. (Kemp is mixed race. In the audio, Stiviano says, “I thought Matt Kemp was mixed race, but it was OK, like it was for me. He's lighter and paler than me. I've met his mother.” Sterling responds, “OK.”)
It's tempting to dismiss Sterling's 10-minute audio as the incoherent ramblings of an aging authority figure untethered from logic, but it reveals a calculated worldview that Sterling has long constructed and participated in: If you're seen in public with a black person, the world will despise you because black people are inferior. (It's worth noting that Stiviano is half black and half Mexican; on the tape she can be heard saying, “I wish I could change the color of my skin.”)
In the spring of 2014, the Los Angeles Clippers, long laughed at, were no longer the laughing stock of the town, and no longer “the other Los Angeles basketball team.” In December 2011, the team acquired superstar point guard Chris Paul in a trade. Paul was the only player capable of singlehandedly changing the team's fortunes. This ushered in a new era of basketball for the Clippers, which became known as Lob City. The team was exciting, played fast, and above all had personality. Not only did they have Paul, who was calm yet playful in equal measure, but they also had Blake Griffin, who was highly sought after at that point for his highlight dunks and easy-going, carefree sense of humor. Griffin's frontcourt mate DeAndre Jordan, though extremely intense, mirrored Griffin's playfulness in candid post-game interviews.
The Clippers' ascent came at a fortunate time for the franchise. They were on the rise while their rivals, Staples Center housemates, and much older Los Angeles organization, the Lakers, were on the decline. Incredibly, for a few seasons, the Clippers dominated Los Angeles. Their only problem up to that point was a lack of playoff success. In 2012, they were swept in the conference semifinals. In 2013, they won 56 games and topped the division, but lost in the first round of the playoffs. In 2014, they were poised to really take off. In the first round, they lost their first game against the Golden State Warriors, but then won games two and three. Less than a day after the conclusion of game three, the story was hijacked by Sterling's leak. Unfortunately for the Clippers, their bouquet of personalities extended beyond the court into the front office.
By 2014, Sterling had been subject to years of harassment and discrimination allegations. In 2009, he settled a lawsuit brought by the Department of Justice against him for housing discrimination against black prospective tenants. (Sterling was a longtime landlord in Los Angeles, making his fortune primarily in real estate.) He had amassed a list of sexual harassment accusers. In a less serious but indicative of Sterling's stance on racial issues, he promoted Black History Month in 2011 by taking out ads in Los Angeles newspapers. Times The NBA was very strict with Sterling, despite his numerous violations, in a campaign to allow 1,000 “underprivileged” kids to watch the game for free. This policy was put to the test on the night of April 25th.
Clipped begins at the start of the Clippers' 2014 season but quickly accelerates to April. Episode 1, rushing to catch up with those new to the story, shows Doc Rivers (Laurence Fishburne) being hired as head coach and quickly finding himself at odds with the childish and moody Sterling (Ed O'Neill). Sterling's fame-obsessed assistant, lover and best friend Stiviano (Cleopatra Coleman) is an annoyance to everyone, including Sterling. While the team makes the playoffs, behind the scenes the marital feud deepens, eventually leading Stiviano to decide to leak audio of Sterling rambling on. Sterling's wife, Shelley, played in the show by Jacki Weaver, has begun the process of suing Stiviano, accusing him of taking advantage of Sterling's age and wealth, in an attempt to get back the many gifts Sterling has lavished on her. (Stiviano had a habit of recording his conversations with Sterling, a connection Sterling maintained was agreed upon between the two, but Stiviano claimed he recorded them without his knowledge. Stiviano acknowledged leaking the racist rants to Clippers employees and some friends, but denied leaking them to TMZ.)
“Clipped” hits its stride in the second episode, when the tape is leaked and the ensuing chaos begins. On an aesthetic level, there's a lot of absurdity in the series, starting with the casting decisions. One of the clever uses of recent events is that the people portrayed are not far from our memories. In the case of “Clipped,” some of the players depicted are still in the league and famous enough to remain top of mind for NBA fans. And it must be said that the actors playing Chris Paul, DeAndre Jordan, and Golden State Warriors rival Stephen Curry bear no resemblance to the real people. Fishburne's Doc Rivers is more similar, but much of this is because Fishburne tried to imitate the real Rivers' unique, gravelly vocal style, wild hand gestures, and moments of bewilderment or indignation. “Clipped”'s approach is to elevate all the characters to a cartoonish level. O'Neill's Sterling is loud, petulant and relentlessly childish, and uniquely jarring in his sense of entitlement and ignorance (such as when his assistant brings him news of a leak and Sterling shrugs it off as nothing).
Coleman's Stiviano, while still an extreme portrayal, is the show's most complex character. In episode four, a series of flashbacks shows how Stiviano went from working in a food truck on the studio lot to coming into contact with wealthy men (initially via a friend's invitation to a sex party). Stiviano is perhaps not the most obvious hero. You may remember him stumbling through a primetime interview with Barbara Walters (recreated with startling accuracy in “Clipped”) or saying, “I'm not a very good actor,” or “I'm not a very good actor.”V StivianoShe wears Stiviano's hats and, oddly enough, walks her pet turtle in her front yard at night while the press gathers in her driveway. But the story works best when told from Stiviano's point of view, as a character study of someone who wants fame but isn't quite sure what to do with it once it arrives. There's a Stiviano subplot I didn't recall in the actual story, but maybe it was drowned out by the more salacious storylines. In the middle of it all, she's struggling to adopt two adolescent boys, both black. In its less raucous moments, “Clipped” focuses on Stiviano desperately trying to balance her hunger for fame with more practical needs, like the two-story house she's urging Sterling to buy to make room for her children.
