Cast:
Scott Bakula (Gus Cantrell), Corbin Bernsen (Roger Dorn), Dennis Haysbert (Pedro Cerrano), Takaaki Ishibashi (Taka Tanaka), Jensen Daggett (Maggie Reynolds), Eric Bruskotter (Rube Baker), Walton Goggins (Billy "Downtown" Anderson), Ted McGinley (Leonard Huff), Kenny Johnson (Lance "The Dance" Pere), Judson Mills (Hog Ellis), Lobo Sebastian (Carlos Liston), Thom Barry (Frank "Pops" Morgan), Peter Mackenzie (Carlton "Doc" Windgate), Tim and Tom DeFilippo (Juan Lopez), and Bob Uecker (Harry Doyle) Directed and Written by John Warren.
Review:
You can tell there is probably a bit of laziness with the filmmaking with one little shot about 25 minutes before the end, where you can see the scoreboard that signifies the runs and hits in the wrong place (runs are listed in the inning portion for one team while the runs column says the game is 0-0); this also happens in the baseball game in the climax, where it lists a score of 4-2 but has two runs listed in the seventh and one in the eighth for the home team (which happens right before one sees the third run scored). Watching high school baseball a long time ago makes one appreciate the fine art of having a scoreboard operate correctly. Anyway, here is the third and final installment of the Major League films. Imagine thinking that the best things to follow up a foul-mouthed classic is two movies that all people of age would groan away at. If you didn't know already, David S. Ward (who had lived in a Cleveland suburb growing up) wanted to make a movie where he could see his beloved Cleveland Indians win (and with that in mind, he felt it would only happen in a comedy). The result was Major League (1989, #426) - a riveting classic, one that I revere as the perennial baseball movie that had a collection of name actors to go with soon-to-be familiar presences in an enjoyably predictable and raunchy time. It is actually one of the few movies I try to watch every year, preferably as baseball season is starting. The sequel (1994, #444), released five years later by Ward, was not quite as successful, likely owing to middling returns of humor that for some reason was done for a PG-audience. The co-producer of that film in James Robinson returns to produce this film, but this time around the attempts at humor try to reach a PG-13 level (Ward, who had no involvement in this movie, disowned it while trying to shuttle hopes for a true third movie, which has not gone anywhere). It is perhaps a bit baffling to see that the team of focus besides the minor leagues is the Minnesota Twins.. Welp, perhaps the state of Minnesota was more accommodating to the production or something, but I can technically say that I do think of pity when I think of sports in the state (on that matter, go Vikings), so I guess that works out, and Little Big League (1994) featured them while a child became their new owner, so technically this is a step up. This makes this the only Major League movie to actually use the right filming location for its intended team, since Milwaukee County Stadium and Oriole Park at Camden Yards doubled for Cleveland for the first and second film, respectively; one is curious about that air-supported roof of the Metrodome and its unique right-field wall that I kid you not was called "The Baggie" (besides, I cannot fault its Astroturf setup because the Astrodome would be one of the first places I could visit if I had to visit Houston). Besides, the movie can't even get the minor league aspect correctly, since the "Buzz" were actually the minor league team of the Twins...who played in Salt Lake City, not South Carolina (I suppose filming in the high elevation would have been quite a difference in contrast). I will admit that despite being a baseball nut, I really don't have many minor league team names on hand to note, except for one - my region had an independent baseball team named the Whitewings for over a decade, and my parents took me to a game when I was a young boy that resulted in a baseball I still have in my house.
I wonder if the film would have been an even bigger failure if it didn't have "Major League" slapped on (such as calling the movie Minor League). This was the work of writer/director John Warren, who apparently would not direct or write any more movies after this (the only other directing credit was for The Curse of Inferno, released in 1997). Keep in mind, nothing makes much sense in this movie. Beyond the collection of misfits that range from a ballerina-turned third baseman to a catcher that has to be told he stinks in order to be any good...a major league team plays a series of exhibition games with its minor league affiliate. Honestly, how does that work? Do the players in this mythical series get paid extra, or is it all just on the whim of their nut owner (who if you've seen these movies has somehow managed to purchase a baseball team on two separate occasions)? Is this really going to help inspire the major league team if they are playing against guys who could presumably replace them? Just how long is the major league manager for the Twins going to last at the position if he can't even beat the minor league team, especially when he apparently can just call the electricity man at the Metrodome and turn off the power in the span of a pitch being thrown? Then again, in this movie players will just come out if you call out to the sky and say you need a player right before you take a ball to the head. Five folks from the first two films return here through means that I can't really explain very well, because you have one guy who is managing a putt-putt course and a major-turned-minor league announcer. Maybe this was actually supposed to be thought of for television, because the levels of humor certainly feel that way, and it only seems to serve as the further de-evolution of a series that should have stopped when it was ahead. This isn't to say that the first movie is perfect (because it really isn't), but there is something about how it handled the clichés when it comes to the sports movie and made it a warm story that was never too crude or syrupy with characters and lines that actually could stick with you. Yes, seeing the Indians win is the end note, but it is the journey to get around with in the various little stories that encompass it that make it mean something; strangely enough, this statement might also apply in some way to another movie that received sequels with Slap Shot (1977). In short: there is no real heart to the movie. It has essentially turned into a product, one that groans and heaves towards trying to mine moments that are used for obvious gags or to remind you of something from before.
It is weird to see Bakula in this film, honestly. This isn't because of some sort of animosity towards him, because his star role in Quantum Leap (1989-1993) is a favorite of mine, but it is because half the time he really looks lost here (that, and one wonders if an imaginary friend will start to show up - incidentally, the second episode of that aforementioned show featured him playing a baseball player on the skids). Besides, the attempts to move along with the player-turned-manager plot in ways different from what one saw in the second movie might have felt more interesting with Tom Berenger. Bakula here just seems too reserved to really stick as a lead trying to shepherd this ensemble into anything. Bernsen probably has even less to do this time around when it comes to generating humor that sticks beyond sitcom stuff. Haysbert is playing for the laugh track like everyone else, and it proves just as disappointing as was the case last time, complete with him even putting a hood over his head as practice. Ishibashi is used here and there for silly gags that involve him stating dialogue that will either be translated to English, Japanese, or snarky guesses at what he is saying - the result is a performance blander than his appearance in the second one. Daggett has barely anything to do as a whole, with snippets providing no spark between her and Bakula through fault of the script and not her. Bruskotter probably play acts baseball better than he does with acting for laughs, which is technically an accomplishment. Goggins (in one of his first film roles before hitting it big with television in the 2000s) moves through the drawl of attempting confidence that sometimes can seem like a refreshing presence for a movie in need of one, but the traps of the story means that there isn't much tension to really draw interest. You might think that Bakula is the only television favorite to experience this weird feeling, but then one recognizes McGinley from Married...with Children (he also appeared in other shows, but we both know where favorites reside) shows up from time to time as the adversarial manager. He reflects the sitcom-level of filmmaking that happens here, for better or worse. The movie can't be taken seriously for a variety of reasons, but one can at least think that McGinley is at least trying to have some sort of fun with it, regardless of how goofy he seems, particularly since he is always shown with lush hair and no hat (this obviously gets used for a gag near the end, where he shakes his hair to prove it is real). Johnson and the others collect into obvious gags and quiet failure that play for the laugh track and nothing better. 100 minutes can not pass by soon enough when it comes to a limp movie filled with the bare minimum in meaningful baseball and even less in meaningful heart that prove that some movie ideas should just stay as ideas.
Overall, I give it 4 out of 10 stars.
