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Billy Chapel (Kevin Costner) is having a bad day. His girlfriend Jane (Kelly Preston, stunning as ever) says she's leaving, and his boss (Brian Cox) says he's selling the business and ace employee Billy may be out of job. Sounds like business as usual for an old-fashioned veteran. However, the business is baseball and for Billy Chapel, the 40-year old former all-star for the Detroit Tigers, it means his career--and his life--is at a crossroads.
Although it is no
Bull Durham,
For Love of the Game finds a solid and very believable role for Costner. The film is based on Michael Shaara's (
The Killer Angels) stream-of-consciousness novel (the rough manuscript was found after his death 1988). The entire film takes place on Billy's day on the mound against the Yankees, a meaningless late-season game for the Tigers, but everything for Billy. In flashbacks, he lingers over his long relationship with Jane and his baseball career (from World Series heroism to a career-threatening injury). His one viable link to the game at hand is his catcher, played winningly by John C. Reilly. Costner, like Chapel, is looking for one more great performance, but the film is too simplistic and loopy at times to resonate. The love story has an extra helping of cuteness, and legendary baseball announcer Vin Scully nearly takes on a leading role, waxing grandiloquent. It's no grand slam, but a solid double.
--Doug Thomas
From The New Yorker
The Detroit Tigers pitcher Billy Chapel (Kevin Costner), a forty-year-old right-hander with a sore shoulder, works on a perfect game against the Yankees, and, as he pitches, innings of his relationship with a magazine writer and single mother (Kelly Preston), pass through his mind. Billy is a combination of stoic warrior and Hemingway's old man in the sea, fighting the great fish. And yet the movie is not all idealization: Billy can be cold and self-involved, and "For Love of the Game" asks whether the same qualities that make an athlete a champion don't also destroy his happiness. The answer, unfortunately, is long-winded and redundant, and the iron-larynxed baseball announcer Vin Scully, who narrates the game, turns everything into a cliché. But some of the baseball scenes are good. With John C. Reilly as Billy's tender-hearted catcher. Written by Dana Stevens, who adapted Michael Shaara's novel, and directed by Sam Raimi, who shows an unexpected flair for popular romance. -David Denby
Copyright © 2006
The New Yorker