Sonny Steele used to be a rodeo star, but his next appearance is to be on a Las Vegas stage, wearing a suit covered in lights, advertising a breakfast cereal. When he finds out they are ... See full summary »
A mountain man who wishes to live the life of a hermit becomes the unwilling object of a long vendetta by Indians, and proves to be a match for their warriors in one-on-one combat on the early frontier.
An unknown middle-aged batter named Roy Hobbs with a mysterious past appears out of nowhere to take a losing 1930s baseball team to the top of the league in this magical sports fantasy. With the aid of a bat cut from a lightning struck tree, Hobbs lives the fame he should have had earlier when, as a rising pitcher, he is inexplicably shot by a young woman. Written by
Keith Loh <email@example.com>
Newspaper copy on screen doesn't match the accompanying headlines about Roy Hobbs and The New York Knights. The text actually contains stories about bass fishing, horse racing, funeral services for White Sox owner Charles Comiskey, a fan of the New York Giants, and a sports column about General John J. Phelan, who was (actual) chairman of the New York State Athletic Commission in the late 1930s. See more »
After the bat boy hands Roy the Savoy Special, Roy reaches down, rubs his hand in the dirt, and wipes it on his right back pocket. In the very next shot, the pocket is completely clean. See more »
I'll take some coffee, then.
[Hobbs finds ball and glove on couch after viewing framed photos placed on furniture]
It's my son's. he means the world to me. he's a great kid.
I'll bet he is. I'd like to meet him.
He's coming pretty soon.
Is he with his father?
No. His father lives in New York. But, I'm thinking he needs his father; he's at that age. He needs him.
Sure. A father makes all the difference.
[music starts as she turns her gaze away from the conversation and whispers]
[...] See more »
Whenever "The Natural" is on TV, I stop what I'm doing and watch it. I don't know why, exactly. I have been a baseball fan since I was a little kid and love the tradition. There is no other sport that has as much history. It's because one can isolate moments in time. Situations develop. Every announcer says things like, "Bottom of the third, men on first and third, Turley on the mound, Simpson is up, he's two for four today. The wind is blowing out to right field, etc." We can make words visual. In this wonderful movie, a man wants a piece of that tradition. He makes a horrible mistake along the way to the big leagues, and now is given one last chance. This is mythical. This is not realistic. To criticize it on the basis of its credibility is unfair. Even to compare it to the book is unfair. They are totally different. What one does with a camera should not be compared to the printed page. Malamud did his thing and now Barry Levinson is doing his. The cinematography is without peer. It is magical all the way through. The lighting as Glenn Close stands up in the stands is mesmerizing. This is more Greek myth than baseball story, but it is a baseball story, with the Ruth like gods and the day-to-day players. Roy Hobbs is like all of us in some ways and we love him for his endurance, patience, and drive. Redford brings him to life with that rugged face moving away from lost youth. It's a fine film.
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