They call me magic. And not because I possess any supernatural powers or can do tricks out of a magician's playbook. No, they call me magic because of my ability to make things happen, to make dreams come true, to turn the impossible into possible. I have always been a dreamer, someone who refuses to accept the limitations of reality. Growing up, I was constantly told that certain things were out of reach, that dreams were meant to stay in the realm of imagination. But I never bought into that idea.

If You’re Already Watching 'Winning Time', Is New Doc Series 'They Call Me Magic' Still Worth a Shot?

It’s debatable whether the makers of They Call Me Magic, Apple TV+’s new four-part documentary about the LA Lakers’ talismanic point guard Earvin “Magic” Johnson, were pleased – or very much displeased – to discover that another show, HBO’s glitzy drama Winning Time, about the rise of the Lakers during Magic’s reign in the late Seventies and early Eighties, was also in the works. Would the fact that HBO’s show landed first – and is in fact already seven episodes down, with the eighth airing on Monday – mean that by the time their doc series came out, which it does today, there’d be nothing left to say? Or would Winning Time create buzz that a secondary show could capitalise on?

Perhaps that should be “second”, not “secondary”, but in some ways They Call Me Magic, directed by Rick Famuyiwa (Dope), does feel like a kind of York Notes for the HBO series, which bears the high-energy, big-characters, whizzy-casting hallmarks of its executive producer Adam McKay. Winning Time is a show with big ambitions, and doesn't just portray Magic Johnson and the other major players of his generation, such as his mentor (and occasionally tormentor) Kareem Abdul-Jabaar and his nemesis Larry Bird, but the backstage team of down-at-heel middle-aged men (owner Jerry Buss, coaches Jerry West, Jack McKinney, Paul Westhead and Pat Riley) who also helped bring the Lakers to greatness. So what can They Call Me Magic do that Winning Time doesn't ?

For starters, it can fill in some blanks. Where Winning Time begins with Johnson getting drafted by the Lakers in 1979, the first episode of They Call Me Magic delves further back into Johnson’s high school career in Lansing, Michigan, where he was already causing a sensation on the court and, thanks to some savvy branding by a local sports reporter, the legend of “Magic” was well underway. It can also luxuriate in archive footage that doesn’t tell so much as show how Johnson’s nickname was earned: the no-look passes, the telepathic alley-oops, the way he could make his team, when at their best, work like one single-brained organism. Also, his love life: while Winning Time is big on raunch – Johnson has admitted to a sexually profligate lifestyle in his playing days – They Call Me Magic goes for romance, expounding on the emotional connection Johnson felt with Earlitha “Cookie” Kelly, whom he met at college and would become – and despite some difficult periods (see "sexually profligate lifestyle," above) remain – his wife.

What They Call Me Magic, as a documentary series, also demonstrates is just how well Winning Time, as a drama, is cast: 26-year-old actor Quincy Isaiah might not be a dead ringer for Johnson, but he captures his charisma – the ever-present smile, the open, determined eyes – to a tee. Solomon Hughes as the cerebral Abdul-Jabbar, Adrien Brody as assistant coach Pat Riley and even John C Reilly as Buss are also inspired hires. Saying all that, They Call Me Magic is not without star power of its own, with a roster of talking heads that includes Johnson himself, Bird, Abdul-Jabaar, and also a raft of famous fans including Snoop Dogg, Samuel L Jackson, Spike Lee and not one but two former US Presidents (Obama and Clinton, natch).

There are some points – like, say, Johnson and Bird playing for Team USA at the World Invitation Tournament in 1978 – where the two shows seem to resonate, rather than compete. At the end of the first episode of They Call Me Magic it is 1980, and Abdul-Jabbar has sprained his ankle in game five of the NBA World Championship Series, leaving the stage set for Magic in game six. Which is roughly also where Winning Time has got to now, after seven episodes, with three more to go. Soon, though, they will diverge: They Call Me Magic’s further three episodes look deeper into the future, covering his wildly escalating popularity following the 1980 championships, then his HIV diagnosis in 1991 – which rocked the sporting world – and his more recent years as a family man and, somewhat less scintillatingly, as “a business powerhouse”.

So. If we’re down to seconds on the clock, which should you go for? Both Abdul-Jabbar and Johnson seem to know which they prefer: Abdul-Jabbar recently referred to the characters in Winning Time as “crude stick-figure representations”, while Johnson told Variety, “You can’t do a Lakers show without the Lakers”; something which the documentary series can definitely claim. (Jerry West, who’s portrayed as a hot-head in Winning Time, by Australian actor Jason Clarke, went further and has, according to ESPN, demanded a “retraction and an apology” from McKay.) If we had to choose, Winning Time, with its energy, glossy production values and sexy late-Seventies lasciviousness, takes it at the buzzer. But for a quieter, kinder take, They Call Me Magic is a worthwhile runner-up.

'They Call Me Magic' is released on Apple TV+ today. 'Winning Time' is available on NOW TV with new episodes released every Monday

Miranda Collinge is the Deputy Editor of Esquire, overseeing editorial commissioning for the brand. With a background in arts and entertainment journalism, she also writes widely herself, on topics ranging from Instagram fish to psychedelic supper clubs, and has written numerous cover profiles for the magazine including Cillian Murphy, Rami Malek and Tom Hardy.

‘They Call Me Magic’ adds necessary context to ‘Winning Time’… and vice versa

When I heard that Magic Johnson would be producing a four-part documentary series about his life and NBA career titled They Call Me Magic, I wanted to roll my eyes. The last thing we need is another ego-driven chapter in the decadeslong competition between Johnson and Michael Jordan, whose The Last Dance was an epic 10-episode advancement of the latter’s legacy.

Then, when news that HBO’s Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty, Adam McKay’s fictionalized reimagining of the Showtime Lakers’ rise to glory, would be released, I rolled my eyes over Johnson’s documentary again. It felt like a public relations scramble to offset the HBO depiction of the Hall of Famer as an unrepentant womanizer.

But after watching both Winning Time and They Call Me Magic, the latter feels like a necessary palate cleanser that offsets the HBO drama’s obsession with scandal and reminds us that Johnson is a Black icon — even if the real story is somewhere in between McKay’s show and the Johnson-produced series.

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Half of Winning Time’s first season, which aired its finale last week, had already appeared by the time They Call Me Magic hit Apple TV+. That means fans spent weeks watching a one-dimensional portrayal of Johnson as a small-town kid who wound up in Los Angeles obsessed with having sex with as many women as possible. While no one would deny Johnson spent plenty of time with plenty of women, Winning Time fails to offer a three-dimensional portrayal of the all-time great point guard or any other character in the show, for that matter (as Kareem Abdul-Jabbar noted in his review).

Overall, Winning Time feels needlessly mean-spirited. Besides the portrayal of Johnson as sex-crazed, Abdul-Jabbar is made to look like an emotionless curmudgeon. Yes, the show depicts Lakers legend Jerry West and late team owner Jerry Buss in similarly negative lights. But there’s something about a show run by a white man stripping two of the most prominent Black icons of our lifetimes of their redeemable qualities that makes me uneasy.

That’s why They Call Me Magic feels like a glass of sweet tea to wash down the bitterness of Winning Time. The documentary reminds us why we have loved Johnson for so many years. The real Magic, after all, is much more charismatic than the one we see on Winning Time. (This isn’t an indictment of Quincy Isaiah’s performance, but he isn’t given an opportunity to be the magnetic Magic we know.) And in the documentary, the archival footage of the young Michigan kid with a million-dollar smile jumps off the screen, as do his present-day interviews. You want to hear Johnson wax on about almost anything, especially when his competitive side comes out in discussing his former feud with Isaiah Thomas and legendary rivalry with Larry Bird.

Despite my hesitation going in, They Call Me Magic isn’t just a celebration of all things Magic Johnson. He’s candid about his on-court failures in the 1984 Finals, for example. And the documentary delves into Johnson’s messy personal life, including the many on-again-off-again engagements between him and his wife, Cookie, with Johnson taking responsibility for calling them off. Cookie Johnson is given ample time to tell her side of the story, along with her college friends, who share their perspective on the couple’s relationship. There’s also time dedicated to Johnson’s icy reaction to his son E.J. coming out as gay.

Of course, the series doesn’t dig into these topics as deeply as an independently-produced documentary would. In one scene, Johnson gets teary-eyed discussing his decision to marry his wife, but it still left me wanting. In another, Johnson laughs off a pool party where athletes left their wives at home to be with any number of LA women. And he doesn’t offer any commentary on the cringey 1992 ABC Primetime Live interview where he discussed his sexual escapades with a huge smile on his face.

In the doc, Johnson also never spends enough time explaining where his anti-gay bias came from. After all, by the time his son had come out, Johnson had already been advocating for HIV/AIDS survivors, and spent time working for and with members of the gay community. He was also at the center of speculation about his own sexuality when his HIV diagnosis was revealed. Why didn’t any of these things lead him to a better understanding of his son? Johnson is never forced to reckon with it on camera. Because this is his show and he doesn’t have to.

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That’s where Winning Time finds its utility. While it would be great if the series gave us a fuller picture of Johnson, its depiction of the young, selfish star who doesn’t care about his girlfriend’s feelings but wants to be with her eventually feels like the unspoken parts in the corners of They Call Me Magic. After all, Johnson admits he didn’t invite her to an NBA Finals series until 1991 — years after they had been dating and engaged for the first time — adding credence to the scandalous and selfish depictions of Johnson in Winning Time. It also makes me wonder why the HBO series bothered to make Johnson’s relationship with her more dramatic than it actually was — one episode has him getting her best friend pregnant, though there isn’t any account of this ever happening.

While the final episode of They Call Me Magic can sometimes feel like I’m being sold a time-share to a Magic Johnson resort, it does center something Winning Time feels unwilling to do: situating Johnson as a resilient Black icon. The doc spends time illustrating Johnson’s business decisions and why he wanted to invest in Black communities, something Winning Time, which chronicles the Lakers’ 1979-1980 season, has yet to address.

In the end, the real Magic Johnson rests somewhere between Winning Time and They Call Me Magic. The irony here is that the existence of one makes the other more bearable – and necessary.

David Dennis Jr. is a senior writer at Andscape and an American Mosaic Journalism Prize recipient. His book, The Movement Made Us, will be released in 2022. David is a graduate of Davidson College.

‘They Call Me Magic’ Is a Revealing Look Inside a Basketball Icon’s Head: TV Review

That’s how Magic Johnson describes his 1991 appearance on Arsenio Hall’s talk show in the new documentary “They Call Me Magic.” It was a key moment in Johnson’s public life, coming just after the basketball star’s announcement that he had contracted HIV. And it’s slightly telling that what Johnson recalls is not any particular thing he said but the applause of the audience for whom he was putting on a show.

Johnson, throughout both his athletic and business careers, is as close to an entertainer as an athlete gets. And “They Call Me Magic,” though often glowingly promotional, does an elegant job of depicting the mentality of a figure who needs his public just as much as they need him.

The contours of Johnson’s story will be familiar to anyone currently watching HBO’s “Winning Time,” about the so-called “Showtime” era of the Los Angeles Lakers. The team was invigorated by owner Jerry Buss’ approach to presenting sports as sometimes salacious amusement, and by a new superstar out of Lansing, Michigan. We see how Magic got his nickname as a high-school phenom, and the unusual amount of attention that attended him — his decisions to attend Michigan State, and then to go pro before graduation, were both media events.

This milieu is fascinating and well-drawn by director Rick Famuyiwa; the Showtime era is the strongest portion of “They Call Me Magic.” The straight-ahead nature of Apple’s documentary is more effective in illustrating the pressures on Johnson than is the frenetic “Winning Time.” With that said, Johnson is an imperfect documentary subject, especially by comparison to the voluble and emotive Michael Jordan in the docuseries “The Last Dance.” (Jordan, along with several other basketball stars as well as two U.S. Presidents, appears as a talking head here.) Johnson is squarely undemonstrative, as well as something less than completely open. Especially after the story moves to his HIV diagnosis, it’s apparent there are lines of conversation he won’t pursue.

Which means that this series can sometimes fall into the trap of narrating precisely what its subject wants; moments in the final episode in which we run through a laundry list of Johnson’s post-basketball accomplishments in business endeavors are precisely the sort of thing that would, rightly, have been cut were this a two-hour feature film instead of a four-hour series. And there’s a certain heavy silence around Johnson admitting his initial reaction to his son’s coming out, though we’re told he eventually made his peace with his son being gay. (What changed, and why? These are questions the documentary doesn’t dig into.)

What is easiest to glean from Johnson’s speaking to camera, though, is his endless delight at impressing his audience — not just the joy of winning but the pleasure of being seen winning. And in the main, “They Call Me Magic” is both an engaging look at the impact this charismatic, endlessly newsmaking figure had on his era and an occasional glimpse into the mentality of a performer.

“They Call Me Magic” launches Friday, April 22, on Apple TV Plus.

But I never bought into that idea. I believed in the power of belief itself, in the magic that lies within each and every one of us. They call me magic because I have a way of inspiring others to believe in themselves.

I have a knack for finding the silver lining in even the darkest of clouds. When others see a dead end, I see a detour leading to a new adventure. When others see failure, I see an opportunity to learn and grow. I have faced countless challenges in my journey, but I have always approached them with an unwavering determination and a firm conviction that anything is possible. I have witnessed miracles happen before my very eyes, not because I possess some special gift, but because I never give up. I never stop believing. They call me magic because I have the audacity to dream big and the courage to chase those dreams relentlessly. I have learned to embrace failure as a friend, a stepping stone on the path to success. I have learned to trust my instincts and follow my heart, even when the odds are stacked against me. And in doing so, I have discovered that I am capable of achieving things that others would dismiss as impossible. But the truth is, I am not magic. I am just a human being with flaws and imperfections. I am someone who has stumbled and fallen more times than I can count. But I am also someone who refuses to let setbacks define me. Someone who believes that true magic lies not in extraordinary abilities, but in the power of resilience and perseverance. So yes, they call me magic. And while I may not possess any supernatural powers, I do possess the unwavering belief that anything is possible. And maybe, just maybe, that is a kind of magic in itself..

Reviews for "Magic as a Performance Art: The Skills and Training of a Magician"

1. John - 2 stars - I was really excited to read "They call me magic" based on all the positive reviews, but I was left disappointed. The plot felt scattered and confusing, and I struggled to connect with any of the characters. The writing style was also a bit off-putting for me, with too much exposition and not enough dialogue. Overall, it just didn't live up to the hype for me.

2. Sarah - 2 stars - I found "They call me magic" to be extremely slow-paced and lacking in action. The story seemed to drag on with unnecessary details and mundane conversations. The characters were hard to relate to and lacked depth, making it difficult to become emotionally invested in their journeys. Additionally, the ending felt rushed and left several plot points unresolved. I wouldn't recommend this book to those seeking an engaging and gripping read.

3. Emily - 3 stars - While "They call me magic" had an interesting concept, I found the execution to be underwhelming. The pacing was inconsistent, with some chapters dragging on while others felt rushed. The character development was also lacking, as I didn't feel a strong connection or investment in their stories. Additionally, the dialogue felt forced and unrealistic at times. While it wasn't a terrible read, it didn't leave a lasting impact on me.

4. Mike - 2 stars - I had high expectations for "They call me magic" but was ultimately let down. The writing felt amateurish, with clichéd phrases and awkward sentence structures. The plot was predictable and lacked originality, making it difficult to stay engaged. I also found the characters to be one-dimensional and unrelatable. Overall, this book failed to captivate me and I wouldn't recommend it to others.

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