I'm glad you got that out of it, but I think when people hear that they think "oh, so it's not good so much as it's valuable."
I don't get it. If a film is valuable, it means it's good. If it's personal to you, it's good. All personal and valuable films are amazing to me. If a movie is seemingly personal or relatable to me but is a bad film, it ends up not being valuable or personal in my eyes because it doesn't present the essence o that value/relatibility well enough, if that makes any sense.
__________________ San Franciscan lesbian dwarves and their tomato orgies.
I don't get it. If a film is valuable, it means it's good.
"Good" meaning "high in quality" rather than "good" meaning "morally praiseworthy." Craft as distinct from message.
And yes, preemptively, I am not saying they are always or necessarily distinct. One could make a really expansive argument about how excellence is inherently moral, based on something about how all virtues converge at their highest point. Might be worth talking about somewhere or some time, but a little outside of the scope of my silly little baseball movie journey.
In a sentence: A preteen inherits the Minnesota Twins and names himself the manager.
"Baseball was made for kids, and grown-ups only screw it up." -- Bob Lemon
There is a not-so-grand tradition of films that cater to one demographic or another. The one that gets talked about the most is blaxsploitation (and hats off to you if you somehow had that word on your bingo card for a review of this film), but there are all sorts of examples. Formulaic romcoms, cheap slashers, everything Jason Statham does, et cetera.
Little Big League is boysploitation. It's part of a tradition of movies for boys, let's say 9-15, where they get to briefly escape an existence of constantly being told what not to do, of constantly struggling with their fidgeting and antsiness and hormones, and get to imagine having some kind of control over their lives. This usually manifests in money, power, or access. But above all, it's respect. People listening to them, and taking them seriously.
You know you're in good hands early on, as the film finds lots of little ways to signal to you that the script was written (or punched up) by someone who knows the game. Billy (the kid) gets to clarify a rule in his Little League game, and then spars with his grandfather over some genuinely good baseball trivia. A lesser film would've had him do that thing where he floods the zone with babble that doesn't make sense to a real fan but registers to everyone else as "is knowledgable about the thing," like a network procedural with a hacker who spews nonsensical technospeak. But no, Billy really does know the game, and a viewer who knows the game will recognize he does.
Billy's played by Luke Edwards, and he's perfect. He can't be too much like a normal kid because a normal kid would never get to do this, and he can't be too performative or he'll sound like those child actors who try to project their way through everything (SNL's Vanessa Bayer had a character that had this type down cold). Instead, he comes off exactly the way he has to: as a hyper-precocious (but mostly real) kid, the kind that can occasionally surprise the adults around him.
They don't really pull too many punches initially, either. You already know the players are going to hate this and he's going to win them over, but by God, they really make him work for it. They come at him from all angles: we look stupid, we have to live this down after you leave, you're going to hurt my ability to get a new contract. And he finds unique ways to motivate and win over each according to their distinct personalities. He's also forced to make tough choices that remind him that baseball isn't just a game, it's a business, and that being a manager means you can't just be a fan.
The film really puts in the work on the premise, rather than just expecting us to go along with it for the fun. It takes an insane idea and then works overtime to try to make it as plausible-seeming as possible, rather than just coasting on an assumed suspension of disbelief.
How's the Baseball?
Extremely good, for several reasons.
First and foremost: the actors move like real ballplayers. In some cases, it's because they were real ballplayers. Brad Lesley played a few seasons in the bigs before moving on to a similar stint as an actor, and Timothy Busfield (!) played semipro ball when he was younger. But it's not just them: it's everyone. I'd be extremely surprised if Jonathan Silverman had a similar career, but his mechanics look pretty good, too.
There are unbroken shots of one actor throwing to another, throwing to another, and everything looks great. Fast, fluid, effortless. Given the year the film was made, I doubt effects played a role. They seemingly just scoured the land for actors who knew how to play and worked with the ones that hadn't. It looks like real baseball; I can't find any seams in the shot other than the ones on the ball. Bravo.
There's also a ton of cameos that baseball fans will notice and appreciate. And none of the lines are forced or stilted. They're all delivered well. And they're folded naturally into the action, too. They don't lampshade them. They don't have some player come up, hit his mark and smile awkwardly before a real actor says "wow, it's 14-time All Star Iván Rodriguez! You're one of the best catchers in the game!" Sometimes they linger on the players for an extra beat to give you a chance to notice, but that's it. It's refreshingly restrained.
Oh, and the montages! Okay, sure, the structure and music are banal, but the action is lovely. It's not just some guy catching a ball in a close up you can clearly tell was tossed casually from just off screen. They pull back and let you see the flow, see the human gears shift and click into place as the play unfolds. It's genuinely beautiful. Balletic. They show the prettiest thing in all of baseball: the double play turn at second. The people who shot and edited these understood something real about the beautiful mechanics of baseball. It's a joy to behold, and the kind of thing even a non-fan will appreciate. Look at this, from 1:18:
Wait wait, there's more! There's a cool trick play at one point in a key moment that's genuinely creative and, honestly, even kinda believable. It's not only fun, and interesting, but it's exactly the kind of thing you'd expect a kid, unshackled by convention or social considerations, to try. Because: why not?
Oh, and bonus points for the casting of Billy's mom, not just because she's great, but because eight years after this film was released, she gave birth to Pete Crow-Armstrong, currently patrolling the outfield for the Chicago Cubs.
Do They Win?
Nope. They go from last-to-first, but they lose the big game. The final out made by the most likable player. As a general rule, I give a little extra respect to any sports film that has the good guys lose, in part because it's always interesting to see how it manages to frame the literal loss as a moral victory. And here, it's a win because they weren't even supposed to be here. And, of course, because Lou (Busfield) hits it hard enough to win the game, but is robbed by a leaping Ken Griffey Jr. who pulls it back from just beyond the wall. The ultimately tough luck loss.
It's obviously trite to have a sports movie where the moral is "it's important to still have fun," but it's true, and it's extremely well illustrated here. To whatever degree that message seems vapid, is because it's misunderstood.
When you say it's important to have fun, that doesn't mean you don't need to try and it doesn't mean you can't get frustrated. It doesn't mean you can't expect more from your teammates, and tell them so. You can still struggle, sweat, and swear...but you have to find the struggle itself enjoyable. You have to enjoy the experience for itself, independent of the result. Not every single time, but most of the time.
As of the time of this writing, I'm on eight softball teams (and kinda half-on another), and I run two (and kinda half-run another). And all of them wear out the same refrains: hit a ball hard but it's caught anyway? Don't change anything, few inches to the side and it's a hit. Nice swing, good cut, they'll start fallin'.
There are 162 games in a baseball season. That's twice as many games as they play in basketball and hockey, and 10 times as many as they play in football. And they need to play that many because individual games are highly random, and need a long statistical tail to even out. To play baseball is to learn to love process over result. And that process, that grind, that series of iterations and tweaks and riding out streaks and slumps alike, is the essence of the sport. And that process is what has to be fun, has to be gratifying in its own right, for its own sake.
A well-struck ball is a well-struck ball, whether it hits the grass or finds a glove. Or maybe, every now and then, makes its way all the way out to a cheering fan beyond a wall.
I really enjoyed Little Big League as a kid, and also in the same sub-genre, the film Rookie of the Year (which I ASSUME is the next movie you're reviewing, right? Right?).
BRING BACK THE POPCORN SCORES!!!!!1!1!11!
(we need more controversial bits to argue!)
Channeling my best Chypster.
__________________ "My Dionne Warwick understanding of your dream indicates that you are ambivalent on how you want life to eventually screw you." - Joel
"Ever try to forcibly pin down a house cat? It's not easy." - Captain Steel
"I just can't get pass sticking a finger up a dog's butt." - John Dumbear
It's obviously trite to have a sports movie where the moral is "it's important to still have fun," but it's true, and it's extremely well illustrated here. To whatever degree that message seems vapid, is because it's misunderstood.
When you say it's important to have fun, that doesn't mean you don't need to try and it doesn't mean you can't get frustrated. It doesn't mean you can't expect more from your teammates, and tell them so. You can still struggle, sweat, and swear...but you have to find the struggle itself enjoyable. You have to enjoy the experience for itself, independent of the result. Not every single time, but most of the time.
As of the time of this writing, I'm on eight softball teams (and kinda half-on another), and I run two (and kinda half-run another). And all of them wear out the same refrains: hit a ball hard but it's caught anyway? Don't change anything, few inches to the side and it's a hit. Nice swing, good cut, they'll start fallin'.
There are 162 games in a baseball season. That's twice as many games as they play in basketball and hockey, and 10 times as many as they play in football. And they need to play that many because individual games are highly random, and need a long statistical tail to even out. To play baseball is to learn to love process over result. And that process, that grind, that series of iterations and tweaks and riding out streaks and slumps alike, is the essence of the sport. And that process is what has to be fun, has to be gratifying in its own right, for its own sake.
As usual something you wrote struck a chord with me. I coached most of my boys sports teams up till they hit HS age. The amount of fathers who came up to me and told me they werent everyone gets a trophy dads is astounding. I never said it out loud, but my inner voice answer was always something along the lines of duh, you arent unique, none of us who played sports are everyone gets a trophy guys. That definitely comes with a huge caveat for me though. Obviously a totally different demographic than you are talking about in this movie, but kids playing ball arent going pro with an absolutely minuscule amount of exceptions. Hell, most of them arent even going to play HS ball. Play as hard as you possibly can, learn the game, and for Gods sake enjoy it. If you arent find another hobby. I loved spirts as a kid, and was on some absolutely horrendous teams. Winning is always better, but I never didnt have a good time. Thats my soapbox.
Probably wont have seen a lot of these young kids movies. Most I was the wrong age for. This, Angels In The Outfield, Sandlot, Rookie Of The Year are the ones that come to mind.
I really enjoyed Little Big League as a kid, and also in the same sub-genre, the film Rookie of the Year (which I ASSUME is the next movie you're reviewing, right? Right?).
I had a reference to this very film (as an example of the normal type of "boysploitation") in the review initially. Can't remember why I removed it, but yes, that's definitely on the list.
There are many ways in which it is safe and on the rails and Hollywood.
And then there's the part where myself and dozens and dozens of girls I knew finally got to see a movie about women athletes and sibling dynamics in a way that I can literally not name another movie like it. (You might nod at Bend It Like Beckham, but that movie falls at the "falling for your sexy coach" hurdle).
I totally get that and I respect it for that. I'm glad it happened I'm glad it exists and I even understood that when it came out.
But that doesn't mean there's much in the movie for me to sink my teeth into. All I can do is sympathize with the characters as they go through this very Hollywood representation. I mean, both Madonna and Rosie O'Donnell were Hollywood stunt-casting and neither are very good and the whole thing just has that 90s Hollywood/post-Spielberg sheen all over it.
I like Dottie and Kit and their journey and some of the other characters but I even felt like Tom Hanks was really there to hedge their bets over having a movie where the main characters are all women.
BRING BACK THE POPCORN SCORES!!!!!1!1!11!
(we need more controversial bits to argue!)
Channeling my best Chypster.
I agree. Please rate the movies. It's not a stamp on what the rating is for everyone, but for the reviewer. If someone starts bringing up past reviews and comparing the absolutely different type of films, expecting a perfect popcorn math to solve all doubts of life and scoring...just tell them to get a job.
This is one of my favorite movies, and by far my favorite baseball movie. Admittedly, I'm overrating the humor, as familiarity/nostalgia make every line ten times funnier to me than it should be, but I think just about every other element is better than it's generally been given credit for. I'm glad people are starting to notice.
But no, Billy really does know the game, and a viewer who knows the game will recognize he does.
The "make up a situation" scene where he shows this is so good. They not only had to show the complexity of the game and give Billy a convincing argument for how to approach it, they had to make it believable that a Major League coach wouldn't have thought of it first.
First and foremost: the actors move like real ballplayers. In some cases, it's because they were real ballplayers. Brad Lesley played a few seasons in the bigs before moving on to a similar stint as an actor, and Timothy Busfield (!) played semipro ball when he was younger.
Kevin Elster was an active major leaguer! He was rehabbing his throwing arm during the shoot, which is probably why you see him not using it on that slick double play.
Scott Patterson, who's still acting today, was a first round draft pick and pitched in the minors.
Busfield is a righty, but decided to bat left-handed in the film because he thought his swing looked better that way. There is hitch at the end of it, but I haven't seen his natural swing, so I'll take his word for it. And you can't take that shot of him artfully dodging some (unintentional) Randy Johnson chin music away from him.[/quote]
They seemingly just scoured the land for actors who knew how to play and worked with the ones that hadn't.
They held tryouts before they held auditions. Tony Todd (second baseman in the double play clip) just happened to be walking by a field where they were happening.
Everything was baseball first on this movie. They forewent the use of an Avid for editing to maximize the baseball budget.
Sometimes they linger on the players for an extra beat to give you a chance to notice, but that's it. It's refreshingly restrained.
My favorite example of this is the "TH" patches on the sleeves to honor Billy's grandfather. There's not a shot in the movie that focuses on them, but it's such a thoughtful, realistic detail. I also appreciate the weight they give to the necessarily downbeat situation this story springs from, without letting it overwhelm the joy it's supposed to bring.
And, of course, because Lou (Busfield) hits it hard enough to win the game, but is robbed by a leaping Ken Griffey Jr. who pulls it back from just beyond the wall.
Win-win for me as a Mariners fan. This also foreshadowed the the M's' first playoff appearance the following year, also clinched in a one-game tiebreaker. Their first playoff series, as many baseball fans know, ended on a dramatic play involving Ken Griffey, Jr. and featured "a rare relief appearance" by Johnson.
Incidentally, my second-favorite baseball movie is The Rookie, and if you say either title, people think of you're talking about Rookie of the Year.
This is one of my favorite movies, and by far my favorite baseball movie. Admittedly, I'm overrating the humor, as familiarity/nostalgia make every line ten times funnier to me than it should be, but I think just about every other element is better than it's generally been given credit for. I'm glad people are starting to notice.
Yeah, It's always been kind of hidden away. I think the only reason it gets seen is because there are few enough baseball movies that it necessarily ends up on any list of them.
The "make up a situation" scene where he shows this is so good. They not only had to show the complexity of the game and give Billy a convincing argument for how to approach it, they had to make it believable that a Major League coach wouldn't have thought of it first.
Absolutely. Specifically the next-level thing about how they'd bring in a specialist after the Twins pinch hit. I'm a little more meh on his "take the bat out of our hands" logic, but also, it's the kind of logic a lot of baseball lifers would respond to, so I'm down with it.
Interesting to think about what would happen if they made this film now. They'd definitely make Billy the sabermetrician clashing with the old school guys, right?
Kevin Elster was an active major leaguer! He was rehabbing his throwing arm during the shoot, which is probably why you see him not using it on that slick double play.
I almost mentioned him! And I might be one of just a few people my age to remember Kevin Elster at all, because the Pirates signed him for one year and he was perfectly pointless: a 0.0 WAR.
Scott Patterson, who's still acting today, was a first round draft pick and pitched in the minors.
Busfield is a righty, but decided to bat left-handed in the film because he thought his swing looked better that way. There is hitch at the end of it, but I haven't seen his natural swing, so I'll take his word for it. And you can't take that shot of him artfully dodging some (unintentional) Randy Johnson chin music away from him.
...
They held tryouts before they held auditions. Tony Todd (second baseman in the double play clip) just happened to be walking by a field where they were happening.
Everything was baseball first on this movie. They forewent the use of an Avid for editing to maximize the baseball budget.
Tremendous, great trivia, thank you. This makes perfect sense. I still think they must've done a lot of work, if only because, again, Jonathan Silverman (who I've always liked). But it's really gratifying to have all this confirmed. I remember thinking the baseball scenes were good when I first saw the film, but now that I'm watching or rewatching a lot of baseball films all at once, they really stand out. Nothing else is even close. I doubt I'll see another movie during this entire experience that tops the verisimilitude here.
My favorite example of this is the "TH" patches on the sleeves to honor Billy's grandfather. There's not a shot in the movie that focuses on them, but it's such a thoughtful, realistic detail. I also appreciate the weight they give to the necessarily downbeat situation this story springs from, without letting it overwhelm the joy it's supposed to bring.
My dude, I had not even noticed that. That's fantastic. And yeah, definitely walking a tightrope there keeping the film mostly fun given the downbeat of the inciting incident. But it's perfect. Baseball is very tied up in the concept of legacy. I've already mostly written a little interlude about that that should go up sometime this month. What? No, it's a total coincidence that I felt compelled to write about this right around the time of my 40th birthday, don't be ridiculous.
Win-win for me as a Mariners fan. This also foreshadowed the the M's' first playoff appearance the following year, also clinched in a one-game tiebreaker. Their first playoff series, as many baseball fans know, ended on a dramatic play involving Ken Griffey, Jr. and featured "a rare relief appearance" by Johnson.
One of my most vivid memories of the game. I freaked my wife out a little bit once when, in reference to Junior (or something like that), I just immediately reeled off the entire situation and play that ended the 1995 ALDS. I don't even need to look any of it up: M's go down 2-0, win the next two. Game 5 in Seattle, Cora (the tying run) is on third, Griffey (the winning run) is on first. Edgar Martinez up, line drive down the left field line gets all the way into the corner, shot of Griffey huffing and puffing like crazy around third, beats the throw home, M's pile on top of him and in the chaos we get a very brief shot of his face at the bottom of the pile, looking as happy as a person could possibly look. The Kid looking like a kid.
She already knew I loved baseball, but I sometimes think that was one of the first times she saw how deep the love, and obsession, can go.
It was good! I would probably mark it around on first watch, a I have no nostalgia attached to it. A really good baseball flick, but didn't come across as an instant classic.
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