Kill the Umpire (1950).

The Scoop:
William Bendix was a fantastic character actor who built a fine career in the 1940s and 1950s playing distinctive supporting parts in a variety of different films. He specialized in playing gun-toting heavies in classics like “The Blue Dahia” and “The Glass Key,” as well as playing the lovable schlub/best buddy in plenty of war movies. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to tackle lead roles too often, but when he did (most memorably in "The Life of Riley" and as the Sultan of Swat in “The Babe Ruth Story”) it was always worth a watch.

That’s why his presence is the best thing about the otherwise forgettable “Kill the Umpire.”

Bendix plays Bill Johnson, a former ballplayer who still gets so wrapped up in the game that he can’t keep a steady job because he keeps sneaking off to the ballpark during work hours. After losing one too many jobs, his wife threatens to leave him if he doesn’t do something to shape up. Bill’s father in law, a retired major league umpire, comes up with the idea of sending Bill to umpiring school so that he can make a living in the game he loves. What follows is a lot of slapsticky, sitcom-ish comedy and moralizing about the importance and integrity of umpires as Bill finally finds a steady life for himself.

The script by Frank Tashlin and direction by Lloyd Bacon are amiable and competent, but also silly and predictable. (When the opening theme incorporates the melody of “Three Blind Mice,” you know exactly what you’re in for.) Baseball has been a constant presence on the big screen since the beginning, but stories focusing on umpires have been rare, so it’s good to see that aspect of the game highlighted, even if it’s only superficially.

And it lets Bendix put his flair for comedy to work. Plus he’s surrounded by a solid cast of fellow character actors (lots of familiar faces, including Ray Collins, Una Merkel and William Hawley) who do a lot to save the film from itself. But ultimately “Kill the Umpire” falls a little flat with its ridiculous situations and hokey theme.

It’s a treat to see Bendix get a chance to carry a film himself, even if the material doesn’t live up to his talents.

Best Bit:
The three-headed steer. (Don’t ask.)

Side Note:
The uncredited actor playing Harry Shea, the catcher whose bobbled play is at the center of the rhubarb at the end of the film, is none other than Alan Hale Jr.

Companion Viewing:
"Safe at Home" (1961).

Links:
IMDb.
AZ Snakepit.

Take a Look:
The trailer:

Bluetopia: The L.A. Dodgers Movie (2009).

The Scoop:
Fandom for a sports team is a hard thing to explain to the uninitiated. There certainly isn't anything logical or rational about it, but it's something that becomes ingrained at an early age and is a passion that runs deeper than anything. It isn't about going to games for a fun getaway or to be "seen." It's about being there, win or lose (especially when they're losing), through sun or rain. It's an unbridled love for anyone wearing your uniform.

“Bluetopia” is the story of the 2008 Los Angeles Dodgers season, but this isn’t your typical documentary. It’s an all-access look, not only with the players in the clubhouse and their off-field lives, but also with the stadium operations and what happens behind the scenes. But even better than that are the interviews with the lifelong fans, talking about their love for the team. This is, at heart, as story about fandom, and offers a snapshot of the state of Dodgers Nation.

Besides the usual suspects like the players, general manager Ned Colletti and owners Frank and Jamie McCourt, there are also interviews with the likes of clubhouse manager Mitch Poole, Roger “The Peanut Man” Owens, Joe Beimel’s parents and, of course, Vin Scully. But there are also visits with the owner of a Dodger-themed tattoo shop, former gang members working with Homeboy Industries, three little old ladies who love Russell Martin, and doctors and cancer patients at the City of Hope.

But the pivotal moment, of course, is the arrival of Manny Ramirez, and we get to see his first entrance in the clubhouse, the media crush and the reaction of his new teammates (including Andruw Jones sulking in the background).

What’s most memorable about the film, though, are the small moments. The guy who wants to get all of Dodger Stadium and the L.A. skyline tattooed on his back. The joy on the face of Clayton Kershaw’s mother while watching his Major League debut. The rookie hazing costumes. The teenager who catches a batting practice home run and manages to parlay it into an autograph from Chan Ho Park.

Don’t expect any objectivity with this documentary. It’s a celebration of the Dodger experience, and the portions with the team personnel definitely have the feel of PR spin. But what makes “Bluetopia” are the moments with the fans. They come from all walks of life and don’t have much in common but their love for the Blue. But that’s all it takes. That’s what true fandom is all about.

Best Bit:
The excitement of Mateo, the little boy who was attending his first game.

Side Note:
Want your own True Blue tattoo? The shop is on Hollywood Boulevard, not far from the stadium. While you're there, be sure to pick up your Pavilion Pimp gear.

Companion Viewing:
A game at Dodger Stadium, of course, from the field or loge level with a little radio to hear Vin Scully's call.

Links:
IMDb.
The Trolley Dodger.

Take a Look:
The trailer isn't embeddable (what's up with that?), so here's a link.

Safe at Home! (1962).

The Scoop:
It's World Series time again, which is an ideal time for dusting off this little curio. The New York Yankees may not have made the playoffs this year, but with the Tampa Bay Rays going on their remarkable run, Florida baseball is getting its due. And the Florida locations (shot in and around Fort Lauderdale) provide a strong background for "Safe at Home!"

Wooden acting abounds in this little morality play about a Florida boy (Bryan Russell) who deals with the arrival of his widowed father's new girlfriend by lying to his Little League teammates about knowing New York Yankee greats Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris. So, he has to travel to the Yankees' spring training camp to get the guys to back him up.

Roger and the Mick are better ballplayers than actors, of course, but at least they (along with teammate Whitey Ford and manager Ralph Houk) manage not to embarrass themselves too much. Along the way, we learn that lying is bad and that the power of baseball can conquer just about everything.

This is a modest, cheesy little film that has a lot to love, even in its inadequacies.

Best Line:
"There's that kid again! He's followin' us! He must be a spook!"

Side Note:
The script was co-written by Robert Dillon – the auteur behind "Muscle Beach Party" (1964) and "X: The Man With X-Ray Eyes" (1963) – and Steven Ritch, a veteran actor in many TV Westerns.

Companion Viewing:
"Headin' Home" (1920) and "Kill the Umpire" (1950).

Links:
IMDb.
IFC.com.

Take a Look:
The trailer:

When We Were Kings (1996).

The Scoop:
In our UFC/mixed martial arts age, boxing -- with its big padded gloves and strict limitations on engagement -- seems positively quaint. At the height of its popularity, boxing was the gladatorial spectacle of its day and although it was cloaked in the "sweet science" rhapsodizing of the writers who covered it, the level of violence (tame by today's standards) was enough to keep critics aghast.

What also seems quaint is the celebrity of Muhammad Ali, particularly the way he used his fame toward political and social ends rather than commercial ones. Few modern athletes can hope to reach his global appeal, and those who do (such as Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods) seem more interested in selling products than supporting causes. Commerce has trumped conscience, and now even the slightest his of an opinion on a controversial topic is considered career poison.

All of which makes Leon Gast's fine documentary "When We Were Kings" feel like a trip through a time machine. And what a revelatory, eye-opening trip it is. Gast set out to simply document Ali's 1974 bout against reigning heavyweight champion George Foreman in Zaire -- dubbed "The Rumble in the Jungle" by exuberant promotor Don King -- but instead happened upon one of the great socio-political crucibles of the 1970s.

Ali's outsized charisma and outspoken views on American race relations turned out to electrify the people of Zaire (now known as the Democratic Republic of the Congo) and capture the imagination of dictator Mobutu Sese Seko, who used his influence to bring the fight to his country. When Foreman was injured in practice, forcing the postponement of the bout, it just gave Ali that much more time to win over the people of Zaire.

Along with the fight, King also organized a music festival, featuring standout performances by James Brown, Miriam Makeba, B.B. King, the Spinners and other acts. Gast captured these performances with the same eye for nuance and personality that he brings to bear on Ali's and Foreman's fight preparations, as well as on glimpses of everyday life in Zaire.

Taking advantage of the 22-year delay between production and distribution (courtesy of legal squabbles with the film's Liberian investors), Gast couples all this terrific footage with thoughtful interviews with observers like Norman Mailer, George Plimpton and Spike Lee who help put the events into historical context.

It all adds up to a must-see film, even for those who do not consider themselves boxing fans, or even sports fans. "When We Were Kings" is a powerful history lesson that has much to teach 21st century viewers.

Best Bit:
Norman Mailer doing his Ali impression.

Side Note:
Although the film revealed deep personal animosity between Foreman and Ali, they eventually became good friends. When the film won the Academy Award for Best Documentary, the two came onstage together to accept the award.

Companion Viewing:
"Ali" (2001) and "Hoop Dreams" (1994).

Links:
IMDb.
Salon.

Take a Look:
James Brown brings the soul:


Mailer and Plimpton break down the fight:

The Busher (1919).

The Scoop:
This baseball themed drama is pretty standard fare for its era -- perhaps even somewhat conservative, given that it is preaching the evils of big city life at a time when the film industry (and mass entertainment as a whole) was embracing the joys of urbanization.

Charles Ray (the reigning heartthrob of his day) plays Ben Harding, a small town pitching star who gets discovered by a major league club and heads to the big city. While there, he turns his back on his hometown supporters and succumbs to the requisite temptations of booze, women and gambling. He eventually washes out, returning to his hometown in disgrace. But out of that disgrace comes the chance to redeem himself and win back the girl he loves.

The look at old-time baseball is fun, but the rest hasn't aged well and the last half of the movie is just plain tedious.

Best Line:
"Take it from me -- that guy's got more curves than a stovepipe!"

Side Note:
Ray's costarring cast includes Colleen Moore and John Gilbert, who would both go on to eclipse his stardom in the silent era, only to find their careers stalled after the advent of the talkies.

Companion Viewing:
"Headin' Home" (1920) and "The Natural" (1984).

Links:
IMDb.
Silents are Golden.

Take a Look:
Sorry, nothing to offer you on this one. Obviously, there are still a few holes to fill in the Internet.

Headin' Home (1920).

The Scoop:
Terrific vintage baseball footage highlights this film, which was designed as a vehicle to showcase the New York Yankees' newest slugger, Babe Ruth.

Ruth was the first great media superstar in the world of sports, becoming a household name as much for his appetites (for food, booze and women, not necessarily in that order) as for the way he single-handedly changed the face of baseball. And "Headin' Home" marked the start of this. It was his film debut (he plays himself, a role he would return to often) and purports to tell the story of his rise from a mispent youth in Haverlock, Maryland, to the baseball superstardom.

The scenes that bookend the movie are authentic, shot at actual Yankees games in the old Polo Grounds (their home before Yankee Stadium opened) and are a real treat for fans of baseball history.

Of course, the story that comes in between is more fanciful than factual. We're treated to scenes of Ruth carving his own bats from trees he chopped down, saving little girls' beloved pets from the evil dogcatcher, and rescuing damsels in distress. But the film catches him at his youthful best -- slim and full of energy, not the broken down older Babe we would see is his later, better known films and newsreel footage.

However, through all the trite silent comedy shenanigans and slow second half, Ruth's larger-than-life personality shines through and it is that, along with the game footage, that makes "Headin' Home" worth a look.

Best Bit:
The dog-in-the-meat-grinder dream sequence. Eep!

Side Note:
The Babe's love interest is played by Ruth Taylor, who would later become the mother of writer/comedian/actor Buck Henry.

Companion Viewing:
"The Babe Ruth Story" (1948) and "The Natural" (1984).

Links:
IMDb.
Silents are Golden.

Take a Look:
This clip strings together scenes from several silent baseball films, but the first features the Babe hitting his big home run in "Headin' Home":


The full film is available at the Internet Archive.

And, just for fun, here's the 1932 short "Fancy Curves," in which Babe tries to coach up a women's baseball team:

Rollerball (1975).

The Scoop:
In the future, everyone will still be stuck in the '70s.

That's the real lesson learned from watching this horribly dated movie, which purports to make a serious statement about the growing commercialization and corporatization of sports and world culture. While the film has some important points to make -- which are even more valid today than when it was made -- they are all lost in the torrent of garish production design (check out the font on those uniforms!) and bad acting.

In the far distant year 2018, multinational corporations have replaced countries and all world conflict has been channeled into the ultraviolent sport of rollerball. James Caan is a superstar rollerball player who rebels when he is forced to retire by his corporation. Director Norman Jewison tries to class up the proceedings with appearances by John Houseman and Sir Ralph Richardson, and even achieves a few good moments. But mostly it's short on character, long on roller skating and polyester.

Best Line:
"They have muscles! They bash in faces!"

Side Note:
John Box won a British Academy Award for his horrible, dated art direction.

Companion Viewing:
Complete your marathon of cheesy, dated '70s "futuristic" sci-fi with viewings of "Logan's Run" (1976) and "Zardoz" (1973).

Links:
IMDb.
Scoopy's Movie House.

Take a Look:
A trailer:

Any Given Sunday (1999).

The Scoop:
Never let it be said that Oliver Stone is not an ambitious artist. While striving for the fulfillment of his vision, he doesn't hedge his bets. As a result, his strivings can just as often bring success as failure. This film, his exploration of the dark underbelly of professional football, has equal helpings of both. On the plus side are terrific insights into the pressures money and fame exert on the athletes, as well as a surprisingly nuanced dramatic performances by comedian Jamie Foxx and retired NFL linebacker Lawrence Taylor. The cinematography in the game sequences is also top-notch, putting the audience right inside the action, feeling every bone-rattling hit.

Among the drawbacks, though, are Cameron Diaz's thoroughly unbelievable character of the team owner (although she does a good job with it) and Al Pacino's histrionics as the head coach. But the most troubling, perhaps, is Stone's failure to get product licensing from the NFL. The upshot is that all team uniforms and properties in the film are fictional and their design needlessly gaudy, detracting from the impact of the realism Stone achieves elsewhere.

And yet, with all those shortcomings, this is still the best football film to date. Pacino plays Tony D'Amato, legendary coach of the Miami Sharks, who tries to hold his team together for one last playoff push. Along the way he must deal with an injury to his aging star quarterback (Dennis Quaid, playing a combination of Dan Marino and Brett Favre), a hotshot young upstart (Foxx, whose character is very obviously inspired by Michael Vick), the shady team doctor (James Woods), a Jim Rome-like TV host (John C. McGinley) and even the commissioner himself (given biblical authority by Charleton Heston).

The strengths of this movie are strong enough to smooth over its shortcomings, making it a must-see look at life behind the scenes in the NFL.

Best Line:
"On any given Sunday you're gonna win or you're gonna lose. The point is -- can you win or lose like a man?"

Side Note:
The scenes at the home of Cap Rooney (Quaid) were shot at the home of Miami Dolphins quarterback Dan Marino.

Companion Viewing:
"Playmakers" (2003) and "Bull Durham" (1988).

Links:
IMDb.

Take a Look:
The trailer:


Here's Pacino giving his impassioned halftime speech: