UMR Communications is offering the latest headlines in the RSS format.
Reviews
FILM REVIEW: 'Perfect' or not, baseball film may win some fans Bill Fentum, Apr 16, 2010
PRELUDE PICTURES PHOTO
Clifton Collins Jr. (left) plays the coach of a Little League team from Mexico in "The Perfect Game."
By Bill Fentum Associate Editor
The Perfect Game Rated PG for some thematic elements
The true story behind The Perfect Game sounds ideal for a sports drama: In 1957, a Little League baseball team from Monterrey, Mexico, won the world championship in Williamsport, Pa.—the first time kids from outside the U.S. had nabbed the prize.
They capped their triumph with a visit to the White House to meet President Eisenhower. Then most of the boys settled into obscurity, though one of them was later drafted by the Los Angeles Angels and led Mexico’s professional baseball academy.
The young heroes overcame racial prejudice as they traveled north from the Texas border, winning game after game. They brought hope to their families who struggled to make a living in the Mexican steel industry. And they got support from their parish priest, also a devoted baseball fan.
It shouldn’t take much to turn it all into inspiring entertainment. But director William Dear and screenwriter William Winokur defeat their own good intentions with enough clichés and stereotypical characters to sink any film.
First we meet César Faz (Clifton Collins Jr.), a once-aspiring player who ditches his job as a locker room attendant for the St. Louis Cardinals, tired of fighting racism in the major leagues. He goes home to Monterrey, and for a while drowns his sadness in alcohol.
Then he meets Angel Macias (Jake T. Austin), a 12-year-old with his own troubles. Angel’s brother recently died in an accident; their father, consumed with grief at the loss of his favorite son, now insists that Angel forget his dreams of a sports career. “You’re going to work in a factory like the rest of us,” he tells the boy.
But the local priest, Padre Estaban (Cheech Marin), is more encouraging. He inspires Angel and his friends to set up their own baseball diamond in an abandoned lot, and urges César to coach them. Before long they have their own Little League team, the Monterrey Industrials, and the chance to enter a tournament in McAllen, Texas.
So they get visas and cross the border with César, who trains them in what he calls “the holy trinity of strikes, RBIs and homers.” Padre Estaban prays for the boys each day and tells them they can achieve anything, if they will only keep their faith.
Cynical viewers who groan at those early scenes are in for a long sit. The team prevails against all obstacles—ranging from racial epithets to Jim Crow laws that bar them from whites-only rest rooms—and most of their victories are underscored with perky enthusiasm and soaring music by Rocky composer Bill Conti.
Meanwhile, a McAllen cub reporter (Emilie de Ravin), engaged in her own battle with a chauvinistic boss, proves she’s a match for the men on her staff by tracking the team all the way, turning their story into national headlines. A former Negro league champ (Louis Gossett Jr.) assists by secretly helping to coach the boys through a playoff game.
For the grand finale, folks in Monterrey gather in the town square to cheer the team, listening to a radio broadcast of the big game on loudspeakers. (Forget that Monterrey is one of the largest metropolitan centers in Mexico; for purposes of this story, it’s depicted as only a dusty, run-down village.)
Even Angel’s callous father is converted in the end, proudly welcoming his son home as a hero. And César redeems himself, leaves hard liquor behind, and wins the heart of the prettiest woman in town—with some cute, cunning help from the youngsters.
Had enough?
Perhaps we should be content that The Perfect Game at least has its heart in the right place: The team is a model of perseverance that any underdog would do well to emulate. If the story seems to imply that faith is all about trusting in God to grant us any reward we want in life . . . well, that’s Hollywood, isn’t it?
Finally, it must be noted that the audience at a recent preview screening in Dallas burst into applause at the end, clearly delighted by what they had seen. That may be all the filmmakers really want, after all.
PRELUDE PICTURES PHOTO
So they get visas and cross the border with César, who trains them in what he calls “the holy trinity of strikes, RBIs and homers.” Padre Estaban prays for the boys each day and tells them they can achieve anything, if they will only keep their faith.
