Heels

As a family drama with professional wrestling as the backdrop and often the framing device, Heels is a success.

Heels doesn’t always expertly portray the world of professional wrestling, but it does a wonderful job of capturing what makes it so special. ... From a distance you can see the stereotypical characters, the good vs. evil dichotomy, and larger-than-life drama. But give it time, and dig a little deeper, and soon you’ll find yourself emotionally invested in a bunch of misfit weirdos throwing fake punches while dressed in spandex.

Funny, dramatic, occasionally very stupid, and equally as often incredibly moving, Heels touches every corner, and if you can keep popping up after the bumps, you'll understand how addicting those bright lights can be.

Heels captures the humor and scrappy showmanship of sports entertainment.

“Heels” ultimately succeeds as a freshman drama and could grow into something really special. Just expect some less-than-thrilling undercard bouts before the real action begins.

Throughout Heels, Jack agonizes over his scripts, trying to figure out how to make the audience care about his characters enough to come back for the next event. Heels itself, thankfully, is already there.

Jack and Ace are sharply drawn and played but they're also a pair of sulking men-children -- drab and colorless, or at least next to Bauer's feral Wild Bill. The female characters are also underwritten in the early episodes (although Starz promises the later episodes will redress that). Nevertheless, there is something here -- call it abundant promise.

Heels is an entertaining and worthwhile watch for wrestling fans and non-wrestling fans alike. While the show’s in-ring segments are pretty cool, the show’s biggest sell is the prickly but tight-knit relationship between the Spade brothers, who have very different dreams but remain entwined because of the family business.

Heels would be a better show if it could quit with the hand-holding, if it could stand on the power of its own convictions without needing to fold in a CliffsNotes summary of its every move. And yet Heels can win you over despite the clunkiness.

Despite all the early handholding, the show inevitably ends up feeling very “inside baseball,” conversations about the strain of developmental years ultimately meaning nothing when a performer sells out for corporate cash, in which terms like “screwjob” come up without being thoroughly clarified for casuals, make up a large part of the banter and narrative conflict.