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Big
things are brewing for the runners up of
the North Valley Baseball League. Seems
the Bears have been chosen by Sy Orlansky (Clifton
James), a representative from
Anheuser/Busch (two
great things that go great together --
beer and baseball),
to play the Texas state champs in
Houston's famed Astrodome. (And
why the champion Yankees aren't going is a
mystery that's never resolved.)
The stakes are high, too, because the
winner gets to go to Japan to play an
exhibition game against their champion.
When the Bears meet for practice, things are
kind of in disarray (even
for these clowns).
All the familiar faces are there:
Engleberg, Toby, Jimmy, Jose and Miguel,
Ogilve, Stein, Ahmad and Tanner Boyle --
the foul-mouthed and ill-tempered
short-stop; but they're missing a few key
pieces from their championship run. For
some reason, their old coach, Buttermaker,
and pitching ace, Amanda, have abandoned
them. Then, more bad news when they find
out their
hard-nosed
gym teacher, Mr. Manning (Dolph
Sweet), has been named interim
manager.
Manning
arrives and lays down the law with an iron
glove. Engleberg, the team's overweight
catcher, mouths off and promptly gets
booted off the team. The dismissed
Engleberg runs into Kelly Leak (Jackie
Earle Haley), the heart, soul, and
only discernable talent on the Bear's
team, and he promises to straighten things
out. Tearing onto the field on his
AMF Harley, he uses the engine to
drown out Manning. Kelly then tells
Manning he's fired and starts flipping
kitties on the diamond, the rest of the
Bears bolt, so Manning gives up and
leaves. As
the rest of the Bears congregate around
their hellion leader, Kelly asks if
they're still heading to Houston. They
want to, but don't know how without a
coach or a pitcher. Kelly promises to get
them there, but when they ask if he plans
on playing with them, he isn't sure.
Later,
Ogilve, Engleberg and Tanner visit Timmy
Lupus at his home. Lupus, who must have
been to busy picking his nose, crashed and
fractured his leg while skateboarding.
Stuck on the disabled list, the others
present him with an autographed team ball
and a wish that he could come to Houston
with them. After the others leave, Tanner
apologizes for being so rough on Lupus and
promises that they'll win the big game for
him.
The
next day, Kelly returns with Carmen
Ronzonni (Jimmy
Baio), a fast-talking. mini-me
version of the Fonz. Carmen claims
to be a pitching whiz, combining several
styles and wind-ups from his major-league
idols -- including Catfish Hunter, Luis
Tiant and Warren Spahn. But Tanner sees
right through the blowhard, and his
air-balls, and the two come to blows. The
team breaks them up as Kelly announces
that he has
decided to play after all, for reasons he
won't divulge, but the team can't go
without a coach and chaperone. Kelly has an
idea but only if everyone is willing to
bend the rules and go along with his
devious plan. Challenging the younger
Bears, they all decide to go for it. And the
plan goes off without a hitch, the Bears
convince their parents that the simpleton
groundskeeper (Fred Stuthman)
is going with them and they all congregate
at his house and load up in a really boss
looking van with a bitchin' paint job.
Their parents say their goodbyes and
leave, then the Bears load up and leave
the groundskeeper behind, who waves as
they go past.
Kelly
and Carmen are a little coy about where
the van came from, and the rest of the
team panics realizing the van is probably
stolen. Ahmed laments that "we're all
going to the joint!" and everybody
goes off the deep end when a patrol car
rolls up behind them. Carmen does his best
to calm them down while Kelly dons a hat,
shades and cigarette. His bluff works and
the patrolmen rolls on by much to
everyone's relief.
As
a grating, hippie-power ballad eases us on
down the road a piece into New Mexico,
where the team decides to pool their money
together. Carmen is upset that they don't
trust him to hold the money and elect
Ogilve instead. They arrive at a hotel and
Ogilve manages to talk his way past the
clerk, claiming Kelly is his father out in
the van whose "hesitant to go out in
public since the fire." The Bears
commandeer a room and argue over the beds.
While a pillow fight breaks out amongst
the rest of the players, Carmen heads to a
convenience store and fast-talks the
cashier into letting him buy several Playboys.
Carmen returns to the room and his booty
of boobies finally wins the Bears over --
except for Tanner, who still thinks he's a
total crud.
When
Carmen asks where Kelly is, Toby says he
had to get away because "we were
acting like a bunch of retards." We
cut to Kelly by the van, lighting a
cigarette, and uses the lighter to
illuminate a photo he's holding of a
mystery man whose identity we don't know
yet. Later, Kelly returns to the hotel
room and everyone is asleep except for
Tanner, who's watching an old movie on the
TV -- Knute
Rockne: All American.
Tanner watches as Van Johnson's Rockne
gives his famous inspirational Notre Dame
halftime speech about George Gip (Ronald
Reagan).
You
know, where he goes "Sometime, when
the team is up against it, and the
breaks are beating the boys, tell them
to go out there with all they got and
win just one for the Gipper."
Tanner
takes this pledge to heart and modifies it
to help fulfill his promise to win one for
the Luper.
The
next morning, the Bears are challenged by
a group of Native Americans to a baseball
game. The playing field is full of
obstacles and garbage that the Indians use
to their home-field advantage. After the
Bears go down in order, the great Ronzonni
takes the mound.
Tanner's
fears prove true as Carmen can't get it
over the plate. Then the team fears for
their "scalps" when he beans the
next player. Things get worse as the Bears
revert to their old bumbling ways, Kelly
gives Carmen hell for lying to him about
his pitching ability, and the massacre is
on.
In
Houston, Morrie Slayton (Pat
Corley), the Toro's coach, meets
with Orlansky while his team practices.
Orlansky is worried because the Bears are
a no show, but Morrie says not to worry
and assures him the Bears will show. After
Orlansky leaves, Morrie tells one of his
assistants to bring in a replacement team,
just in case, because Orlansky won't know
the difference.
Despite
several hundred side of the road pit stops
for Engleberg to take a dump, the Bears do
make it to Houston and get their first
glimpse of the Astrodome. The only place
they can afford to stay is a seedy hotel
in the wrong side of town, and,
unfortunately, Kelly parked the stolen van
in a no parking zone bringing them to the
attention of the Houston police. The
investigating detective (Lane
Smith) takes pity on them and
promises that if the van checks out, and
if they can find someone to take them in,
they can stay. Otherwise, he'll send them
home. Kelly says he'll go and get their
coach. The other Bears don't have a clue
as to who he means but keep their fingers
crossed.
Kelly
tracks down the man in the photo, who
turns out to be his father; Mike Leak (William
Devane). The two haven't seen each
other for several years, and Mike doesn't
recognize him at first, but is glad to see
him. Kelly lets him in on what's going on,
the ballgame, how they got there, and how
they need a coach for the weekend. And I
assume some massive absentee father guilt
has a major influence on Mike's decision
as he decides to help out. Taking Mike
back to the hotel, the elder Leak confers
with the authorities who turn the motley
crew, turned media darlings, over to him.
Several newspapers and TV stations have
arrived to interview the team and are
smitten with the story of what these kids
did to get here to win the ball game for
their injured friend back home. (Are
news days usually that slow in Houston?
Don't they get nuked off the map in every
other disaster film? C'mon...)
They
all load up in Mike's convertible and he
takes them to a park so they can practice.
Kelly makes it a point to say they don't
really need him, except as a chaperone, so
Mike takes his paper and sits on the
bleachers. Kelly tries to run the practice
but the dulcet tones of Bizet's "Carmen"
sneaks onto the soundtrack so we know
trouble lies ahead. 53 errors later, the
practice dissolves into a scrum pile.
Kelly gives up and storms off, but
Mike breaks up the wrestling match and the
team admits that they're not called the
"Bad News" Bears for nothing. (Remember,
this was back when bad still meant bad.
Really bad. Bad BAD. Stinky poo-poo caca
bad!) And if Mike has anything in
mind that can help them, they're all ears.
He agrees to help but we cans sense some
bad things brewing between father and
estranged son.
Moving
on to the Astrodome, they're shocked to
find out they've been replaced by a team
from El Paso. Mike calms them down and
finds Sy Orlansky, watching in the stands,
and reveals Morrie's trickery of trying to
pass the other team off as the Bears.
Orlansky loves all the publicity the Bears
have been getting and tells Morrie to send
the other team home. And while
Mike gets the Bears working on the
fundamentals, Ogilve goes to work on a
little espionage and checks out the Toros.
Several local girls fall for the gangly
youth from California and they fill him in
all the Toro players. Practice
continues and the Bears are amazed with
Mike's baseball skills. Mike also razzes
Kelly about his smoking and tells him to
lose the cigarettes. They almost have it
out, then and there, but Engleberg
interrupts, saying Carmen is all over the
place with his pitches. So Mike tells
Carmen to cut out all the mimicking and to
just throw the ball. Carmen loses the act
and smokes several pitches over the plate
for strikes. (He's
just as shocked as the rest of us.)
Ogilve
returns and reports they're only hope is a
rain out; and since they're playing in a
dome, they're doomed. Mike ignores him and
runs more fielding drills and rips into
Kelly again when he refuses to
participate. Kelly realizes he's losing
the team to his dad and doesn't like it.
Losing his temper, he walks off the
practice field and Mike realizes he may
have pushed a little too hard. Outside, Kelly
runs into several Toro players who taunt
him. Kelly ignores them until they take
potshots at his dad. They almost fight but
Kelly regains control, but the Toros
continue to ride him as he walks past
them. His rage brews as his pace quickens
and soon he's at a dead sprint.
That
night, back at the hotel (the
team has moved into fancier digs thanks to
Orlansky),
the Bears watch themselves on the news.
Mike finds Kelly in a pool hall and tries
to talk things out because he's stuck with
a bunch of kids who say they can't play
without him; so he wants to know if
Kelly's going to play or quit. They
both realize that their problem runs a
little deeper than a baseball game. Kelly
rips into Mike for leaving him eight years
ago, and when Mike tries to counter,
things get a little nasty and they don't
part on the best of terms.
After
a night of soul searching, Kelly surprises
everyone by showing up to play after all.
In the locker room, Tanner translates
Rockne's speech, the best he can, and
encourages them all to win one for the
Luper.
As
the Bear's take the field, the size of the
stadium and sold out crowd is a little
overwhelming. Tanner stares up at the
ceiling, gets dizzy, and falls down; Ahmed
grows excited when he sees his name up on
the big scoreboard; and Carmen takes the
mound and tries to warm up, but his
pitches bounce well before reaching home
plate. He panics until the groundskeeper
moves the rubber up several feet, to
Little League regulations; Carmen thanks
him for saving his life.
When
the game gets underway, the Bears get two
quick outs but eventually surrender two
runs to the showboating Toros on a two-run
homer by their catcher. Ogilve had him
scouted and warned Carmen not to throw a
fastball -- but quickly found out to not
try a change-up either.
In
the second, the Toros come out swinging
again. When the dust settles, another
homerun puts them up 5-0 as the big
Astrodome Scoreboard goes wild with a
lightshow and sound effects.
I
understand that several Houstonians
still haven't forgiven former Houston
Oilers owner Bud Adams for demanding the
removal of that famous scoreboard for
more seats. Of course, to pour more salt
in that wound, Adams eventually moved
the whole blasted franchise to
Tennessee. The Astros have also left, so
I honestly have no idea what goes on in
the Astrodome these days. Back to the
review!
The
Bears come to bat again and Kelly manages
to get a double. Next, Jimmy fouls out but
Toby singles, moving Kelly over to third.
Jose lifts a shallow fly ball to left.
Mike tells Kelly to tag up, the throw
comes home, and Kelly is out at the plate,
squandering the Bears scoring opportunity.
After that third out,
the Bears try and take the field again but
an official rushes out and stops play. The
four inning exhibition game that's taking
place between a double-header between the
Astros and the Cincinnati Reds has taken
too long and is being called off after two
innings. (If
a trip to Japan is at stake, I don't know
if it should be settled in just four
innings.)
The
Toros are declared the winners and
celebrate. In their dugout, the Bears
watch dejectedly. On the diamond, Tanner
refuses to yield the field of play.
Screaming that they've got to keep playing
for the Luper, he eludes two security
officials, dodging, ducking and chucking
the bases at them. The Astros players
watch (in
those awesome rainbow striped uniforms)
and one player speaks up (who
I think was Bob Watson) and
says let the kids play and finish their
game. With the
crowd really into the spectacle Tanner is
providing on the field, Mike takes up the
player's suggestion and charges the crowd
to let the kids play. Kelly joins him and
the rest of the Bears follow. Soon the
chant of "let them play" is
booming in the Astrodome.
The
giant scoreboard flashes "Play
Ball!" The game is back on.
That's
all well and good, but the Bears are still
down by five runs. They manage to stay out
of more trouble, and with a nifty
double-play, get out of jam. Ahmed leads
off the next inning, rhyming like Muhammad
Ali, and smacks a triple. Two batters
later, Kelly parks one over the fence. But
that's all the runs they can get before
the last inning. Down 5-2, the Bears get
one out on a grounder to third. Then
Carmen gets the next batter on strikes,
but the next Toro legs out a single.
Ogilve recognizes him from his scouting
report as the team leader in stolen bases
and warns Mike to watch out for him.
Asking for time, Mike heads to the pitcher's
mound and calls in all his infielders. He
takes the ball from Carmen and secretly
gives it to Toby. Mike tells Carmen to
stall. While Toby returns to first base,
Carmen sweats it out on the mound. He
works on his wind up and checks the runner
on first who finally takes his lead off
the bag. Toby quickly tags him for the
third out. (Little
Big League
so ripped this movie off.)
So
the Bears come up for the final at bat in
the bottom of the last inning. Now I'm
scratching my head at this point, 'cuz
Mike must have pulled off some kind of
quadruple, double-switch because his
batting order just went haywire. Toby, who
batted behind Kelly two innings ago, now
hits ahead of him and singles. Ogilve
comes off the bench as part of this scheme
to pinch-hit next. He grounds out but
advances the runner to second. Which
brings Kelly to the plate again. (Okay,
if I were Morrie I'd be protesting right
now because this can't be legal.)
He smacks a single and Toby winds up on
third. Then Miguel strikes out on three
pitches, bringing Stein, the last player
off the bench, to pinch hit. And Stein
does what Stein does best and gets hit by
a pitch to load the bases. So
the Bears last hope falls on Carmen (and
I ponder why Kelly isn't allowed to be the
hero? Or the goat, as I don't want to get
ahead of myself here).
Carmen works the count full, then smokes a
bases clearing double, tying the score;
but then the Toro's defense breaks down.
The outfielder bobbles the ball allowing
Carmen to advance to third. Then the
cut-off man botches the relay throw and it
skitters away, so Mike yells at Carmen to
head for home.
There's
a play at the plate -- and this time
Carmen beats the throw and the Bears win
the game 6-5. The soundtrack erupts into
the cannon fusillade from the "1812
Overture" as the Bears celebrate
their victory. In the tunnels below the
stadium, as they head back to their locker
room, Mike and Kelly break the ice and
show signs of a possible reconciliation
and walk away together.
The
End

As
with any franchise that shows a modicum of
success, it seems a sequel is inevitable
and The
Bad News Bears was no different. For
the second go round, gone are Walter
Matthau and Tatum O'Neal, to be replaced
by William Devane and Jimmy Baio. This
reduction in star power isn't the film's
biggest hurdle, though. Breaking
Training
is done in, mostly, by something we've all
been through (or
going to go through)
called puberty, and the film shows it's
growing pains.
All
the Bears are back except Amanda and
Reggie. All the actors are back, too,
except for Jeff Starr who takes over for
Gary Cavagnaro as the pudgy catcher,
Engleberg. I honestly miss Cavagnaro in
this film. As a pudgy little leaguer
myself in the old Mid-Rivers League when
these films came out, Cavagnaro's
Engleberg was my hero. Aside from Kelly,
he was the only other player who could
hit, and his prickly attitude about his
weight killed me. Frankly, Starr ruined
the character for me, turning Engleberg
into a grotesque caricature with his
constant feeding frenzies, whining,
uncontrollable bowels and curiously
misplaced southern accent that keeps
surfacing when he's stressed.
Now,
the first film was a vehicle for Matthau,
and all the youngsters were supporting
characters. Here, they're the whole show.
Gone is all the biting commentary and
black humor, replaced with silly antics
and hi-jinks -- this time to the tune of
Tchaikovsky's "1812 Overture"
-- justified with a bare-bones attempt at
a reconciliation between estranged father
and son as our moral of the day. I
think Haley could have carried the film on
his own if his character was given
something to do besides pose on his Harley
and look cool while lighting a cigarette
before brooding. And since Devane doesn't
show up until the film's half over, the
film lands in Baio's and the rest of the
Bear's lap, and they, like their on screen
counterparts, drop the ball badly.
A
lot of this can be blamed on Paul
Brickman's script -- part of which is left
out, but shows up later in Risky
Business.
Brickman wrote the scripts for both films.
Originally, Carmen was supposed to talk
about how he scored with a babysitter that
basically winds up, word for word, in the
later film. And I would
hazard a guess that at least half the
Bears players have hit puberty sometime
between sequels, and it's painfully
obvious. As I said in the last review,
what makes The
Bad News Bears so great is that the
kids act like kids. In Breaking
Training,
they're acting like little movie stars
who've got a hit movie under their belts.
The language is toned down and it appears
there's an equal time clause in everyone's
contract.
The
paperback novelization of the film
explains away quite a few plot holes in
the movie, like why the Bears are playing
the Toros and not the champion Yankees. It
seems Buttermaker knew Orlansky and
convinced him to take the Bears instead.
It also explains where the stolen van came
from, and why they didn't get in trouble
for it because the owner refused to press
charges. However, it
doesn't explain the Bear's mysteriously
shifting batting order (admittedly
a problem in the first film as well) or
why the the creators decided to let Carmen
get the winning hit and not Kelly.
So
what it all boils down to is this: The
Bad News Bears in Breaking Training
is a no-frills, by-the-numbers sequel that
didn't take a lot of chances and played it
safe. It gave the audience what they
wanted; it lets Kelly be cool, Ogilve be a
geek, Engleberg be fat, Ahmed to be sassy
and Tanner to lose his temper, much to our
delight. Aren't they cute?
Well,
yeah, they are. Breaking
Training
is harmless and can be fun when viewed as
a juvenile fantasy
come to life: Tricking your parents and
road tripping with a rebel in a boss van,
picking up beautiful hitchhikers and
playing baseball in an actual Major League
stadium is the stuff of any eight
year-old's dream. And when
I was eight, as I was when I saw this in
the theater many moons ago, I thought it
was awesome. The only problem is, now I'm
33 and it just doesn't hold up anymore.
And for me, the poster child for arrested
development, that's really a damning
statement.
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