A steady diet of soft lobs ultimately defeat "The Sandlot," David Mickey Evans'
nostalgic look at boyhood bonding over baseball, circa 1962. Still, you never
are inclined to competely reject the film, even with its shortcomings. It's
lacking in eventfulness and drama, but there's a sweetness in it that places it
a cut above most synthetic children's films. As a writer and director, Evans
doesn't always know where to go with his material, but at least there's some
feeling behind it, and this sometimes rescues it from its becalmed
predictability.
It's more interested in mythifying the rituals of boyhood than in achieving
believability as it transforms a gawky 12-year-old into a miraculously
coordinated ballplayer after only a couple of hints from the star of the
sandlot team, who happens to be such a nice guy that he hits the ball right
into the new kid's glove. The point of view is that of an older man looking
back on his boyhood, which makes for some awkward voiceovers, but also adds
mellowness and charm as the kids in the new neighborhood are presented as
pretty innocent themselves, and far from formidable despite their carefully
copied tough talk and spitting.
In fact, the new kid, played by Tom Guiry, fits in amazingly quickly and
well, even if you do choke over his ability to become an instant ballplayer
after being unable to catch or throw a ball. We don't believe in the
transformation, but we do believe in the kindness of the team leader, played by
Mike Vitar, and that these Valley kids are meandering through their last pure
baseball summer before their thoughts turn away from horsehide and toward
girls. The sandlot kids have fun squashing a snotty Little League team, and the
new kid invites trouble by using his father's ball bearing Babe Ruth's
autograph, but that's about it for storyline.
There's a certain long, lazy summer appeal in "The Sandlot," but while it's
long on atmosphere, it's short on everything else, and forces the kids to spend
an inordinate amount of time figuring out how to retrieve the Babe Ruth ball
from a yard inhabited by a big, mean junkyard dog who shows up in toothy
silhouette against a translucent corrugated plastic fence looking like an ad
for "Jurassic Park." The film takes a long time arriving at its pretty
predictable resolution, mastiff jaws and all. Yearning to be "The Natural" of
the "Stand By Me" set, it falls short. But it's in there pitching, and in ways
you can't hate even as you wish it had thrown a few more high hard ones.
Copyright © 1993 Globe Newspaper Company