I eventually do discuss AGS here - it's a long journey, but a scenic one...

Rating: 7/10 (21 June 2001)

So I took another giant leap in my ongoing quest in becoming a sports fan. Tonight I was riveted by the second Yankee upset to the rallying Detroit. Then I watched the complete postgame program, including all that happened in baseball tonight. Then I watched the midnight, edited rerun while flipping to the repeated Mets game. Ain't that something for me to be proud of?
I now know the complete Yankee starting defensive lineup, if not yet batting order (I'm working on that one). Ok, I don't know all the pitchers yet. But I haven't known this much since growing up with the 80's Phillies. I also know who's on the DL and why, and how it affects the team, and who's in a slump and who's on fire.
Man, who knew Detroit was this much a match? I hadn't ever heard anything about them until this series. They've earned my respect, and have established themselves in my eyes as a viable force. I also now know details of their park and their players.
And talk about rallies. The Mets have a four game winning streak, their best of the season. But, as a former Philadelphia native - go Phillies! A two-game division lead! Put that in your crock pot and simmer it, Atlanta!!
This brings me thoughts of why football never held any allure for me. Because the Eagles play each team only once or twice in regular season, they don't allow me to properly size up the opposition. I hardly know any of the other quarterbacks in the sport (and none of the other positions), or the idiosyncrasies of the stadiums, if they exist. If this compacted, accelerated schedule applied to baseball, I would never have had the opportunity to recognize Detroit's strengths or know much about any non-Yankee players.
Anyway, so after the high of a Yankee game, I was really itching for a movie that took an insider's look at professional baseball. But I couldn't think of one that fully explores this angle. Bull Durham is set in the minors and focuses on the superstition aspects of the game as well as specific fictional characters. The Natural and Field of Dreams focus on baseball's romantic allure and its idealistic nature as America's Favorite Pastime. Major League is played broadly for laughs. The Babe is simply awful. For Love of the Game could have been good had it focused more on Costner's mind (and the team's reaction) while pitching a perfect game, and less on syrupy, groan-inducing, clichéd, generic romantic turmoil in the pitcher's private life. So what are we left with?
Then, lo and behold, Any Given Sunday pops up on HBO. THIS is what I'm talking about! What I was looking for was a baseball version along these lines. The inevitable collision of a rookie's ego, inexperience, talent, and stupidity. The relationship of the team, coaches, and reporters. Yeah, parts of the movie are, well, "movie-ish" (do real players recite brief monologues, trade insults, and incite a shoving match while in a huddle? I've never seen it.) But Oliver Stone is a masterful director who gives all his films an immediate, urgent feel with creative editing and topnotch production values, even though sometimes he feels the need for his characters to shout at the top of their lungs too much to complete the effect; he's never been known for subtlety.
Any Given Sunday stimulated my mind to wander a bit, and I reflected on the similarities of Dennis Quaid's characters here and in Everybody's All American - a legendary quarterback past his prime who's trying to retain his dignity and stature in the sport. And, poof! I flip to Showtime, and there's Everybody's All American. God must have had His cable modem plugged into my head tonight. This happened earlier in the day too. Poetic Justice, featuring Regina King, was on Cinemax. Ms. King was also in Jerry Maguire, which led me to Tom Cruise and thoughts on the era in his career as a rising star - the 80's. And of course one can't think of said era without reflecting on his financially successful misfire known as Cocktail. Sure enough, Cocktail also made an appearance on television tonight. Too bad God logged off when I wished for a Yankee victory this evening.
Anyway, back to AGS. How clueless is Elizabeth Berkeley's manager? We all know the story of Showgirls. She tried to break out of her wholesome TV image in an daring, adult role. She failed, with a wooden performance (and she wasn't helped by the impossible dialogue and ridiculous character), and garnered scathing reviews. On the flip side, Gina Gershon made the most out of her character and was rewarded with a integral role in Face/Off and a lead in Bound. A successful example of the transition Berkeley attempted is Lisa Bonet, who broke free of her Cosby persona in an equally controversial, bod-baring performance in Angel Heart. Bonet's role was supporting, so perhaps Berkeley felt, when she accepted the lead Showgirls role, that by baring so much skin in a notorious movie, she'd be catapulted to stardom like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. Lizzy, honey, you ain't no Sharon Stone; you possess neither solid acting ability nor star power. Neither does, say, Ashley Judd, but she obviously has a established, influential agent/manager to overcome these obstacles. This is also why Cameron Diaz became a headliner within a couple of years after The Mask. Diaz does have star power, which helps, too; Judd took a lot longer to get where she is after her debut in 1993's Ruby in Paradise, and still can't headline a movie; Tommy Lee Jones and an intriguing (but deeply flawed) premise contributed to the commercial success of Double Jeopardy.
So, after the failure of Showgirls, what does Berkeley do? Bares her boobs again, but this time in an inconsequential bit role. Granted, she's romantically partnered with Al Pacino, but, unlike Diaz, her character is not connected with the central plotline and can be easily eliminated. This is not the way to rise to the top in Hollywood - from a lead to a bit player, trying to make her breasts her ticket to stardom. Stupid girl.

Another point about AGS is that I admired its attention to the corporatization (is that a word?) of pro ball, from the superstars' endorsement deals and vanity projects (like cutting an inane, ego-inflating rap album) to the trend of naming ballparks the likes of Coors Stadium, Staples Center, and First Union Center. This view is expressed in a scene with Pacino and Jim Brown, where Brown recalls a time when players didn't have their eye on the riches and were thrilled to merely be a part of the tradition and prestige of the sport, which leads Pacino to lament the advent, ubiquity, and hype of modern sports broadcasting as the culprit of the misguided values of today's younger stars. This is why I'm anti-corporate: "Teams" are now known as "franchises." Stadiums are no longer named to honor legendary figures or a location. Fenway. Ebbetts. The Vet, Camden Yards and Madison Square Garden. All these names evoke a sense of history. Hell, there was even a Mr. Shea who was granted eternal props.
Jeez, I wish I could build a career on all this: personal ruminations based in film comparison and analysis. Oh well, that's why God created IMDb at least. I hope I haven't breached the thousand word limit. As for Any Given Sunday: I have seen it all the way through, but didn't tonight. I do recall Jamie Foxx's breakthrough performance, and, during a beach scene with babes in bikinis, how and why movies stars today have bodies like Diaz and not, say, Marilyn Monroe (bless you, Kate Winslet). And, viewed on television, how better the film must look in widescreen. And how quickly the running time goes by (unlike the draggy Nixon). And how Stone somewhat reigned in his trademark bombast towards a point of self-parody (it's an artistic step back) to deliver a mainstream hit.
7/10