Year: 1993
Genre:
Comedy
Directed:
David Mickey Evans
Stars: Tom
Guiry, Mike Vitar, Patrick Renna, Chauncey Leopardi, Marty York, Brandon Quintin
Adams, Grant Gelt, Shane Obedzinski, Victor DiMattia, Denis Leary, Karen Allen,
James Earl Jones, Art LaFleur
Production:
20th Century Fox
By the time
I got around to watching The Sandlot, I was already in high school. I don’t know
why that is exactly – It’s considered an early nineties touchstone in much the
way Pogs, Game Boys and The Mighty Ducks (1992) were back in the day. By the time
it was widely available on VHS, the movie was laser-focused on kids my age. To
whit snippet of dialogue like “you’re killing me Smalls,” had actually managed
to sneak into my vocabulary without me even realizing it. So by the time I sat
down to watch this ode to summer and eye-fluttering nostalgia, I was already at
a point in my life where I was knee-jerkingly against everything that everyone
else liked.
That is the
legacy of The Sandlot that in my mind before setting out for a redemption
rewatch. A clichéd, cloying, and unrelentingly sweet kid’s movie that had neither
the sense of wonder that E.T. (1982) had nor the propensity to revel in its silliness
the way something like The Little Giants (1994) did. To top it off it was about
baseball, a sport I had failed miserably in, two years in a row. I even had the
distinction of being the only kid on my team to never hit the ball when up to
bat. Hearing the collective sighs of parents in the stands and seeing the
encroaching outfielders strolling closer as I came to the plate was excruciating.
My team uniform |
Stock characters beat writing something original |
What strikes
me the most about The Sandlot the third time around (I think) is it’s not
really about baseball. In fact, other than a late junkyard dog inspired action
boost, the movie basically sits there like a summer heat wave. It’s not really
about anything other than chasing that feeling of no school, no work. None of
the characters really change all that much, and inclusion of James Earl Jones
feels like a lesson falling on deaf ears at best. At worst, it’s a non-sequitor.
If we’re honest the only thing holding this thing together are a couple of
loosely chronological hijinks.
I'm in this movie less than Coca-Cola |
Gee, I with Denis Leary was my stepdad |
Nevertheless,
The Sandlot appeal remains hidden under oh so many layers of quaintness. Even a casual observer
will notice the camerawork is sloppy, the acting amateurish and the story lacks urgency. If you grew up with it, watching it a second time isn’t likely to
change your mind on its merits. Since I technically didn’t grow up with it, I
can’t really see anything other than nostalgia propping it up.
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Grade: C New Grade: C
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