NBC Mockumentary Sitcom “Stumble” is a Flipping Good Time | TV/Streaming | Roger Ebert

NBC’s “Stumble” is pretty cute. The mockumentary sitcom follows champion cheer coach Courteney (Jenn Lyon) as she builds a team from scratch after getting ousted from the community college where she’s spent her career.

Yes, the faux documentary format is overdone, and where “Stumble” hits wrong notes, it’s because of its chosen format. We don’t need to blur out dolls because the fictional toymaker doesn’t give permission, or pretend like Courteney’s own college cheer coach is refusing to participate in the show because of ill will between them. That’s just manufactured silliness, and it reads as such.

But aside from those few point deductions, “Stumble” gets a high score, thanks to it mostly resisting easy/dumb jokes in favor of surprising and warm ones. Now, a sitcom about a cheer team led by a conventionally attractive blond woman could easily be one long, women-are-dumb slog. There’s none of that here. Yes, Courteney cannot always find the right words, but the show portrays her lack of eloquence as a personality quirk rather than a reflection of her intelligence.

In fact, there are no ditzy blondes on “Stumble.” Instead, the show contrasts Courteney’s acumen with her husband’s forgetfulness. Boone (Taran Killam) is the football coach at the same school Courteney attends. He introduces himself with a clip of his career-ending head injury as a quarterback—and “Stumble” shows the clip several more times, emphasizing its severity but also the absurdity of playing tactical football at all. Years later, he still has trouble with basic functioning, and the show plays this inherently masculine dumbness for laughs. It’s a bit of gender reversal that works in part because the show is so kind to both Boone and Courtney.

This central couple is undoubtedly inspired by the other famous fictional Texas football coach power couple, Tami and Eric Taylor of “Friday Night Lights.” Like their predecessors, Courteney and Boone are both in charge of shaping young minds, and they have a healthy relationship—still a rarity on screen. These are two equals who affectionately call each other “coach” in bed and always have each other’s backs. Some of “Stumble’s” warmest moments are with the two of them, gently in love and gently joking. In “Stumble,” Courteney takes the central role, and like Coach Taylor before her, she’s excellent at her job. We see her “tough love” approach working, and understand how she could have so many championships.

Along with Courtney’s role as an educator, “Stumble” takes cheer seriously as well. We’re talking gymnastics’ pom-pom’d cousin here. Clearly, doing a back handspring is actually a spectacular feat. And while “Stumble” does play a cheerleader’s injury for laughs, it also notes that the sport is dangerous; in fact, according to some studies, cheering is the most dangerous sport for female athletes. These gymnasts perform their routines without pads or mats, and they face the consequences.

And the show isn’t afraid to poke at larger dynamics, teasing easy targets like influencer culture and taking an insider’s perspective to rib its Texas/Oklahoma setting. The acronym for Courtney’s new conference is hilarious—a bite at the lack of opportunities for Courtney and Boone’s graduates. None of these student athletes is turning pro or going to the Olympics. But the goal of being the best at what they’re trying to do right now does matter, even if it won’t make them famous or rich.

That said, “Stumble” isn’t even particularly invested in the athlete’s futures—we spend no time in their classrooms and learn little about them outside of their performance on the mat. No, this is Courtney’s story, and she’s a compelling protagonist, bringing heart and humor to her attempts to shape another championship cheer roster.

It’s a strong setup and approach, buoyed by a cast that’s clearly having fun with it. Lyon and Killam are both heartfelt and funny, able to pull laughs and play their more down-to-earth moments. And in the more-developed grown-up sphere (in the first two episodes given to critics to screen, the young people are more gags than humans), there’s also Kristin Chenoweth, playing Courtney’s assistant coach, turned rival. She’s clearly having a blast as the bad type of coach who runs her team as a way to foster her own ego.

It all adds up to a flipping good time—a chance to watch good people achieve a bit of excellence in their little corner of the world, while laughing at the absurdity of the society that surrounds them.

First two episodes screened for review. Show premieres November 7th on NBC.