Ted Lasso‘s Season 4 finale aired Wednesday, October 7 on Apple TV.
By Greg Wheeler
The return of Ted Lasso was always going to be big news. The first three seasons gave us heartfelt stories, lovable characters, and a rare kind of optimism that made the show feel like an antidote to the world around us. Even if Season 3 did not quite live up to the standards of its predecessors, the series remained witty, sweet, and deeply invested in the idea that people can change.
So what better way to bring Ted Lasso back than by introducing a women’s team at Richmond?
After spending three seasons exploring mental health, toxic masculinity, relationships, and emotional vulnerability through AFC Richmond’s men’s team, a women’s team could have opened up countless new possibilities. Unfortunately, Season 4 is barely about the women at all.
Although the season begins with Rebecca building Richmond’s new women’s team, the story quickly shifts its attention back to the familiar favorites. Roy, Keeley, Rebecca, and Ted remain at the center of the show, while most of the new players are left waiting on the sidelines.
The major exception is Alice Chilton, the team’s new coach. Talented, severe, and initially resistant to emotional connection, Alice slowly learns how to open herself up and bond with the players. Watching her thaw is one of the strongest parts of the season, even if the show does not always give her storyline the depth it deserves.
Tanya Reynolds is outstanding in the role. Alice’s first confrontation with Rebecca immediately establishes her as direct, perceptive, and unwilling to quietly accept being overlooked. Reynolds gives her an impressive strength, but she also brings out Alice’s stranger quirks and excellent comic timing as the season goes on. She fits naturally into the Ted Lasso ensemble.
Unfortunately, Alice is one of the only new female characters who receives that level of attention. Gemma Jay, played by Abbie Hern, gets a more substantial storyline for a few episodes, but most of the women on the team remain frustratingly underdeveloped.
That is a shame because the cast is full of potential. Faye Marsay is terrific as a single mother who becomes the team’s captain. Aisling Sharkey and Rex Hayes are funny as the constantly bickering Harrigan twins. Mercedes Assad and Annelise Heywood play an on-again, off-again couple on the team, while Jude Mack brings a memorable oddness to the role of a goalie who refuses to wear gloves.
The writing introduces these characters well enough to make you want more from them, then repeatedly refuses to provide it. The actors do their part, making the players feel authentic and distinct, but the scripts leave them with very little to work with while the spotlight remains fixed on the fan favorites.
Even those established characters are not always well served. The original cast is still a pleasure to watch, but good performances can only carry so much. Season 4 is filled with half-developed storylines and uneven character arcs, introducing meaningful ideas before abandoning them or wrapping them up too quickly.
Rebecca’s relationship with Matthijs and her evolving feelings about marriage could have been compelling, but the storyline never fully commits to its own questions. Roy and Keeley spend far too much time trapped in an exhausting, predictable will-they-or-won’t-they cycle. Beard undergoes a strange personality shift that barely anyone seems willing to acknowledge. Ted, meanwhile, spends much of the season on the margins of the women’s team, despite the fact that his emotional intelligence should make him central to their development.
Henry also makes several questionable comments throughout the season, but Ted never meaningfully addresses them. That feels particularly strange for a show that has always presented Ted as someone willing to confront difficult emotional truths.
The most unnecessary addition is Zelda, a billionaire feminist who becomes involved with Richmond and launches a tedious subplot about team shares and shareholders. There were so many opportunities to explore the women’s lives, ambitions, and relationships, but the show instead gives us a cartoonishly wealthy new character and an obvious twist.
Tracey Ullman is entertaining enough in the role, and Zelda has some funny moments, but the character feels like a distraction from the season we were actually promised.
That does not mean Season 4 is without charm. There are still flashes of the old Ted Lasso magic. In one particularly moving scene, Ted helps another character calm down simply by sitting beside her and breathing with her. No grand speech is necessary. It is a small, quiet reminder of the show’s best quality, its belief that presence and compassion can sometimes accomplish more than advice.
There are several other scenes that capture that same warmth. The problem is that a handful of lovely moments cannot carry an entire season.
Ted Lasso remains a likable show with a talented cast and a fundamentally generous worldview. But Season 4 feels like a missed opportunity. The women’s team deserved to be the center of this story, not the backdrop for another round of familiar character drama.
I give Ted Lasso Season 4 a C.
