Popcorn Picks

Matt Bruce

Earlier this month, my friends hosted a baseball movie marathon to help everybody recover from the end of the Red Sox' playoff run. This was a chance for me to see some films for the first time ever and others for the first time since childhood. It also made for a really convenient column topic.

Before I tell you about my all-time favorite baseball movies, a brief word about baseball's post-season awards: as you well know, they went as expected, with the dramatic exception of the AL MVP.

Yes, Mike Lieberthal had just as good an offensive season as Ivan Rodriguez -- anyone reading this site probably realizes that already. Yes, Pedro Martinez was probably robbed. (I can see leaving pitchers off the ballot completely, but who in his right mind ranks Pedro seventh, behind B.J. Surhoff?)

That said, I take sentimental pleasure in the fact that, for two straight years, a former Tulsa Driller has won an MVP trophy. These weren't just any Drillers, either. Sammy Sosa and Ivan Rodriguez were the guys who dominated every game they played 10 years ago, who took our breath away so often that their June call-ups were inevitable, if all too soon.

Writers can bestow an honor, but they can't actually create the dramatic moments for which the players earn an honor. Or rather, newspaper writers can't create the dramatic moments. Movie writers can create anything they want. When the real-life baseball season is over, what better time to keep the game alive through fiction?

I have chosen to rank my five favorite baseball movies, as well as my least favorite. Note that there are a lot of highly reputed baseball movies that I just haven't seen, since I rarely go to theaters and have spent most of my adult life without a convenient VCR. For the Love of the Game, for example, looks like it might land near the top of my list as soon as I get to it.

There are also movies I liked that simply didn't make the cut. Some people might think that Field of Dreams is a shocking omission. Then again, do you really need me to tell you that this was a wonderful movie? I didn't think so.

I loved Field of Dreams, but I didn't cry. Maybe I would have cried if I were older. Fortunately, my father is alive and well, and I'm young enough to take playing catch with him for granted.

Instead of raving about a heartwarming movie in which an adult wishes he were a kid, I'll rave about heartwarming movies with actual kids. No, I don't mean those terrible comedies from earlier this decade.

Little Big League, Rookie of the Year (the new one) and Angels in the Outfield (again, the new one) all left me cold. This is a remarkable feat, since I actually really liked all three installments of the Major League trilogy. Thankfully, none of those movies were as bad as...

The Fan (Tony Scott, 1996). I didn't expect to demand an apology from the makers of this movie during its opening minutes. There were no sympathetic characters, but that seemed to be by design. John Leguizamo captured the sycophantic quality of most agents that I hate. Robert De Niro, as the anti-hero, seemed no worse than most of the guys who call sports talk shows.

Then, just when the movie tried to become a thriller, everybody not only forgot his role (or hers, since Ellen Barkin was the worst offender) but also forgot how to act. Oh, and the climax? Nothing good can come of a plot device stolen from The Naked Gun.

Enough unpleasantness. Without further ado, here are my five favorites:

5. The Sandlot (David M. Evans, 1993). Were you expecting the "Bad News Bears"? Think again. This is also a comedy about kids who become teammates, but without the adult supervision and without the hokey gags.

The baseball here rings truer, though it also reminds me a bit of the Peanuts gang. The racially diverse cast and the mysterious neighbor also make me think a little bit of "To Kill A Mockingbird", though that might be a stretch.

4. Tiger Town (Alan Shapiro, 1983). This made-for-TV movie used be ubiquitous on the Disney Channel. A young kid still idolizes Billy Young (played by Roy Scheider), his favorite Tiger, even though the rest of Detroit thinks Young is over the hill.

Despite the relentless teasing of classmates, and even a death in the family, the boy keeps his faith and counts down the Tigers' magic number. Realistic touch: Ernie Harwell plays himself.

3. Bull Durham (Ron Shelton, 1988). Just like my #1 movie, this was one I hadn't seen before the marathon. I had expected it to become my favorite. It is funny, sexy, and down-to-earth. Many of the lines are classic, especially the opening and the ending.

A movie that gets kudos for its realism, however, should try to avoid patently unrealistic events. No young stud would get 18 strikeouts and 18 walks in his professional debut -- even 15 years ago, people knew about pitch counts. I'd like to think that the minor-league home run record would not be an anonymous pursuit either, but that may just be because of what I do for a living.

I do wish that Kevin Costner could have figured out which way Crash Davis was supposed to bat (lefty in his first and last scenes but righty every time in between -- check it out for yourself), or at least not run the "gratuitous meanness" routine into the ground.
Then again, from the interviews I've seen of Costner, he may not have been acting much during those scenes.

2. The Natural (Barry Levinson, 1984). In some ways, this is the antithesis of "Bull Durham". There is lots of over-the-top simplicity and a direct contrast between good and evil, though as a kid I had a hard time understanding why the gamblers acted the way they did. Many times you just have to suspend your disbelief and enjoy this movie.

Roy Hobbs apparently sleeps around a lot in the Bernard Malamud novel on which this is based. One guy at the movie marathon kept mentioning this, repeatedly. That would make his later guilt and reclusiveness a lot more reasonable. As it movie tells it, he seems to think it's his fault that some psychotic wench shot him.

My supervisor at work hates the climax of this movie but has trouble explaining why. I think the climax of "The Natural" is the best scene in cinema. I wish I could hear the music swell, watch the swing and see the sparks from the bank of lights every night before I went to bed.

If I weren't already a Ranger fan, I would have become one when The Ballpark in Arlington started to play the theme from "The Natural" after every Texas home run. One scene, however, does not a whole movie make. Some of you may be even more surprised at what comes next than you were when Pudge became the AL MVP.

1. A League of Their Own (Penny Marshall, 1992). I didn't see this movie when it first came out, partly because of preconceived notions. To appreciate this movie fully, don't assume anything about it. Forget that it comes from the source of "Laverne and Shirley", and humor both John Lovitz and Madonna when they're clearly just playing themselves.

Most of the movie is an extended flashback that begins with a softball game in Oregon and continues into dozens of baseball scenes. These women could flat-out "play", with talent and drive that I find far sexier than any "Baseball Annie." Some of the subplots are gender-specific, but the recurring sibling rivalry should strike a chord with anyone who isn't an only child. (My sister is 18 months younger than I am.)

There is gut-splitting humor: Tom Hanks is surprisingly good as a stumbling drunk, though he isn't even involved in the bar scene that I thought was priceless. But there is also gripping drama: The final game is both more action-packed and more realistic than any other fictional ballgame I've seen.

Earlier I mentioned not crying during "Field of Dreams"; this movie actually did make me cry. (At work they taunted me, "There's no crying in baseball movies!") I challenge you to watch it and keep a dry eye.

about the author

According to Matt Bruce, "Dogma" is the best non-baseball movie he's ever seen. Tell him how to get rid of the nightmares about teenagers with hockey sticks at mb@strikethree.com.