Compared to some sports owner behaviors over the past two decades, partial owner and President of the Los Angeles Waves Cam Gordon’s (Justin Theroux) sins seem relatively quaint in Running Point. Yes, he is a polysubstance addict who dropped his crack pipe while driving, leading to a car accident. But he didn’t commit vehicular manslaughter, utter a racial slur, or engage in sexual harassment during or in the aftermath of the event. Still, it’s enough to force Cam to resign his position and enroll in an extensive rehab program.

Taking his place at the helm is his younger sister, third in birth order, Isla Gordon (Kate Hudson). After a wild child teens and 20s (and perhaps 30s?), Isla got back on track with a job as the Waves’ charitable coordinator. However, she’s always longed to be directly involved in basketball operations. Unfortunately, while her dad was alive, he reserved that for her brothers—eldest Cam, general manager and second born Ness (Scott MacArthur), and younger half-brother CFO Sandy (Drew Tarver). So, this is her first—and likely only—chance to grab a foothold in the boys’ club.

That’s the good news. Well, besides Cam’s addiction and reckless driving. The bad news is the Waves are thoroughly below average. Like maybe give up on the season and hope for a good draft pick terrible. That makes Isla vulnerable to coups from her siblings, distrust from the board, and prima donna shenanigans from her superstar players, especially point guard and “rapper” Travis Bugg (Chet Hanks…yes, the one you are thinking of).

If you’ve ever seen an underdog sports story, you can likely guess how that part of the story will go. Truth be told, if you’ve seen more than a handful of television and film in your time, you can probably guess where most of Running Point is going, including Isla’s relationship with her seemingly perfect fiancé pediatrician Lev Levenson (Max Greenfield), the handsome Zen coach with an occasionally fiery temper Jay Brown (Jay Ellis), and her funny on top of it all best friend/chief of staff Ali Lee (Brenda Song).

But predictability doesn’t have to be bad. With Elaine Ko, Mindy Kaling, Ike Barinholtz, and David Stassen listed as creators of Running Point and the latter three as showrunners, the show can do predictable with style. And it typically does. Nothing here is especially jaw-dropping or knee-slapping, but there is something impressive about seeing how talent can breathe life back into the most tired of tropes.

Even when the writing isn’t particularly sharp, the actors can pick up much of the slack. Hudson retains that kind of tart wit that made everyone want to cast her in romantic comedies. And then no one be able to write one suited to her skills. On the front, Running Point feels like a much better fit. She stumbles a little when the show goes for pathos and heart instead of giggles, but the responsibility for that feels like it belongs more with scripting.

On the supporting front, MacArthur continues to be the kind of utility player that should get much more attention. Every time he shows up on something, you know he will play above the material. Song, Theroux, and, yes, Hanks, all arguably do the same, to various degrees. Tarver isn’t as funny in his part, but he crafts a deeper character. Only Greenfield gets the short end of the stick. He has incredible comic instincts and must mostly bury them to play the “normal” guy in Isla’s life.

In the end, though, they’re all acting in service of a fairly predictable sitcom. Running Point is the kind of show that would have run in the 8:30 on NBC’s non-Thursday night comedy lineup. It’s another sign that streaming increasingly welcomes the type of network television it appeared to bury five years ago. The price tag (for both the viewers and the streamers) is larger, the jokes a bit bluer. There’s fun to be had, certainly. But the days of a Netflix Original Series delivering on the promise of “original” are firmly in the rearview mirror.

Running Point moves without the ball on Netflix starting February 27.

Running Point Trailer: