The Dink (dir. Josh Greenbaum)

by Jack Martin | Jul 26, 2026

Certificate: 12A

Running Time: 102 mins

UK Distributor: Apple TV

UK Release Date: 24 July 2026

WHO’S IN THE DINK?

Jake Johnson, Mary Steenburgen, Ed Harris, Ben Stiller, Chloe Fineman, Patton Oswalt, Aaron Chen, Martin Kove, Chris Parnell, Christine Taylor, John McEnroe, Andy Roddick, Lynne Marie Stewart, Cayden Romero

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Josh Greenbaum (director), Sean Clements (writer), Jake Johnson, John Lesher, Rob Paris, Ben Stiller and Mike Witherill (producers), Dara Taylor (composer), Carl Herse (cinematographer), Greg Hayden (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

A former tennis prodigy (Johnson) finds an unexpected outlet in the game of pickleball…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON THE DINK?

Pickleball is certainly a growing phenomenon within the world of sport, particularly for its universal accessibility, but let’s be honest with ourselves: it is a rather silly game to play. The court designs are beyond elaborate, the hollow balls literally have holes in them, the scoring only goes up to 11 (did the members of Spinal Tap introduce that rule?), and random words like “kitchen”, “falafel” and “dink” are frequently used as genuine terms of play. In other words, pickleball is ripe material for a rip-roaring sports comedy on the level of Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story or BASEketball, one that showcases just how silly a sport it actually is.

Sadly, The Dink isn’t that movie. While it does frequently point out the ridiculousness as well as the comforting essence of pickleball, director Josh Greenbaum’s film lacks the comedic firepower needed to really give it that forceful serve. Because of that, The Dink a largely laugh-free affair that is more dull than it is fun to watch, though it does at least have a bit of charm coming from its lead actors and the precious few subversions of familiar sports movie tropes.

The film is about Dusty Boyd (Jake Johnson), a former tennis prodigy who, after a career-ending wrist injury, has resorted to giving private lessons at the tennis club owned by his ever-disapproving father Chuck (Ed Harris). But with pickleball rapidly on the rise, much to the ire of Chuck, Dusty and their fellow tennis snobs, the sport is on course to be effectively banished from the club, so long as they – as per the archaic charter rules – beat their rivals in a one-on-one match. For Dusty, however, things get a bit more complicated when his doctor (a cameoing Ben Stiller, also one of the film’s producers through his Red Hour Films production company) recommends he give pickleball a go while his wrist continues to heal, and to his surprise he soon not only takes to the game fairly well but also makes a genuine connection with Candace (Mary Steenburgen), a middle-aged divorcee who encourages Dusty to finally embrace the person he was always meant to be.

Like so many underwhelming comedies out there, the biggest issue with The Dink is that it is simply not very funny. The actors are certainly trying to get something out of the material, especially Johnson who manages to mine a couple of light chuckles from his sardonic deadpan delivery alone, and there are times when Greenbaum – previously the director of much livelier comedies like Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar and Strays – is allowed to embrace his inner weirdo with a few out-there moments, including one fateful scene involving an owl. But Sean Clements’ script severely lets its talented cast and crew down with gags that continuously fall flat, leaving many of the actors to constantly ramble through ad-lib sessions which feel as though they go on forever, the constant non-hilarity only making numerous scenes, such as Johnson and Stiller talking about hookup websites or another character declaring their bizarre sexual attraction to a decommissioned US Navy ship, seem even longer. It’s rather telling that the one decent joke in the entire movie revolves around tennis legend John McEnroe, his more recent success as an overly informative sports commentator, and some comically oversized food; but even then, it comes far too late into the game for it to liven things up.

What it severely lacks in comedy, The Dink doesn’t entirely make up for it but still fills a decent amount of that hole with its gentler, more sombre approach that gives it a fine sense of heart. Much of that comes from the genuinely sweet chemistry between Johnson and Steenburgen, as both actors are charming enough to make even their less well-written scenes together feel somewhat credible, and the film even manages to admirably restrain itself from going in a more conventional romantic direction while instead simply emphasising their friendship above anything else. For the most part, Clements also avoids settling into that typical sports-movie cycle of training montages, inspirational speeches and ragtag teams of all-out losers, focusing more on the smaller yet personally significant stakes between its characters and how their wildly different goals manage to collide in sometimes disastrous fashion. Though of course, a number of them still remain, including the slightly odd decision to bring in real-life tennis star Andy Roddick as this movie’s answer to Ivan Drago.

But again, none of that is enough to save this movie. That fundamental lack of laughs, which is already a huge problem for any film that is specifically designed to inspire laughter, clouds over the few bright spots and makes The Dink that much more sluggish to sit through. It all boils down to a script that needed a significant polish in order for it to actually land the majority of its jokes, or at least make them solid enough so that the actors don’t need to resort to painfully unfunny improv back-and-forths in order to squeeze desperate laughter out of the viewer. In its current form, it’s an unfortunate slog that you’ll wish you could laugh more at instead of pitying it.

The efforts of its cast are noble, and it’s not like the script itself has any bad intentions, but The Dink is – to use a common pickleball term – firmly stuck in the kitchen.

SO, TO SUM UP…

The Dink is a disappointingly laugh-free sports comedy that relies on painfully extended ad-lib humour to disguise its script’s considerable lack of actual jokes, and although the sardonic and surprisingly sweet charm of leads Jake Johnson and Mary Steenburgen gives it a little warmth, it’s not enough to save a film that needed more time in the kitchen.