Starring: Thomas Ian Nicholas, Gary Busey, Amy Morton, Dan Hedaya, John Candy
Director: Daniel Stern
Producer: Robert Harper
Screenplay: Sam Harper
Music: Bill Conti
Released by Twentieth-Century Fox
Henry Rowengartner (Thomas Ian Nicholas) is little leaguer who can throw strikes (not very hard), but has trouble catching the ball. Then one day, while trying to impress a girl at school, he has an accident. His arm ends up in a cast for most of the summer, but when the doctor finally removes the plaster, Henry discovers a remarkable thing. Because of "tight tendons" in his right arm, he can somehow throw a ball in excess of 100 miles per hour. It doesn't take long for the Cubs to give the twelve year old a tryout, and, when they discover he's the real thing, they immediately sign him to a major league contract (how desperate is this team?) The move pays off, because, after a rocky debut, Henry becomes the catalyst that leads the team into a Pennant Race.
As the title suggests, Rookie of the Year aspires to be a baseball movie. In this, it fails in almost every respect. Fans of the game will be horrified by the lack of attention paid to the nuances and subtleties of baseball, while those who don't like "America's pastime" will probably find this film uninspiring, unimaginative, and uninteresting (all of which it certainly is).
A gargantuan misstep is that Rookie of the Year tries a few stabs at drama while its outrageous setup allows only for the most absurd of comedies. Maybe the Monty Python troupe could have done something with the premise, but it's way beyond Daniel Stern's meager abilities. As an actor, Stern has a flair for comedy (as showcased in Home Alone and City Slickers), but, as a director (at least from the evidence we're given here), he is inept.
This movie is grueling even as a fantasy for Cubs lovers and Mets haters. There's not enough substance here to give meaning to the "big game" between the two clubs. Added to that, the Mets are portrayed as such a ridiculously over-the-top gang of thugs and losers that it's impossible to hate them. Besides, given the team's current woeful brand of real baseball, setting this team up as the heavy is a huge mistake. No one despises New York's National League team any more (except perhaps their own fans) -- they're too woeful for that.
Rookie of the Year presents a perfect opportunity for a line of cameos by current and ex-Major League players. However, with the exception of fleeting glances of Bobby Bonilla, Pedro Guererro, and Barry Bonds (in a Pirates uniform -- oops), there's nothing. No members of the real Cubs are around, and play-by-play announcer Harry Carry is conspicuous by his absence. Instead, all we get is an embarrassingly silly John Candy doing his best Harry imitation -- and a pale one it is, at that.
This is a genuinely insulting movie. Most baseball films, even the best of them, are formula-driven. Robert Redford hitting a home run in the bottom of the ninth is pure fantasy, but it's still a great movie moment. Rookie of the Year lacks this kind of style, and its comedy is so daft that it can't compete with the likes of Major League (which was, at best, a mediocre film).
Of course, the characters are stock, and the actors aren't able to do anything with them. Amy Morton, playing Henry's mom, overacts outrageously. Thomas Ian Nicholas, in the title role, manages to make his character as irritating as possible. I'm sure I'm not the only one who wished someone would plunk that kid when he was dancing off first base and making fun of the Dodgers' pitcher.
If you're a ten-year old boy who wants to vicariously live out the fantasy of playing for a big-league ball club, this might be worth a look when it shows up on television, but, for anyone else, it represents a blunder as big as a hanging curve ball. With Rookie of the Year, Daniel Stern has struck out.
© 1993, 1996 James Berardinelli