Bull Durham

Bull Durham

Bull Durham is about minor league baseball. It's also about romance, sex, poetry, metaphysics, and talent--though not necessarily in that order. Susan Sarandon plays a loopy lady who just loves America's national pastime--and the men who play it. At the opening of every season, she attaches herself to a promising rookie and guides him through the season. Unfortunately, the player she bestows her favors upon does not really deserve it. She knows it, and veteran Kevin Costner knows it. Her choice, a dim bulb played for laughs by Tim Robbins, is the only one who doesn't know it. The film, directed by its writer, Ron Shelton, a former minor league player, is rich in subtle detail. There are Edith Piaf records playing in the background, fast-talking managers, and minor characters as developed as the leads. Sarandon's retro-'50s outfits make you think she's just another bimbo, not an English teacher very much in control of her life. And Costner's clear-eyed, slightly vitriolic performance is devastatingly sexy and keenly witty. The love scenes, though tasteful, are almost as humorous as they are hot. Sarandon's character likes to tie her players up and expand their horizons by reading Walt Whitman to them, "'cause a guy will listen to anything if he thinks it's foreplay." How can you not love a movie with such a wicked sense of humor? --Rochelle O'Gorman

Genre: Comedy, Romance, Sport
Production: Orion Pictures
  Nominated for 1 Oscar. Another 7 wins & 5 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.1
Metacritic:
73
Rotten Tomatoes:
97%
R
Year:
1988
108
31,936 Views
A Major League love story in a Minor League town.
It's all about sex and sport. What else is there?
Romance is a lot like baseball. It's not whether you win or lose. It's how you play the game.
A movie about America's other favorite pastime.

Annie Savoy:
I believe in the Church of Baseball. I've tried all the major religions, and most of the minor ones. I've worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball. When I heard that, I gave Jesus a chance. But it just didn't work out between us. The Lord laid too much guilt on me. I prefer metaphysics to theology. You see, there's no guilt in baseball, and it's never boring... which makes it like sex. There's never been a ballplayer slept with me who didn't have the best year of his career. Making love is like hitting a baseball: you just gotta relax and concentrate. Besides, I'd never sleep with a player hitting under .250... not unless he had a lot of RBIs and was a great glove man up the middle. You see, there's a certain amount of life wisdom I give these boys. I can expand their minds. Sometimes when I've got a ballplayer alone, I'll just read Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman to him, and the guys are so sweet, they always stay and listen. 'Course, a guy'll listen to anything if he thinks it's foreplay. I make them feel confident, and they make me feel safe, and pretty. 'Course, what I give them lasts a lifetime; what they give me lasts 142 games. Sometimes it seems like a bad trade. But bad trades are part of baseball - now who can forget Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas, for God's sake? It's a long season and you gotta trust. I've tried 'em all, I really have, and the only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the Church of Baseball.

Annie Savoy:
These are the ground rules. I hook up with one guy a season. Usually takes me a couple weeks to pick the guy - kinda my own spring training. And, well, you two are the most promising prospects of the season so far, so I just thought we should kinda get to know each other.

Crash Davis:
Time out. Why do you get to choose?

Annie Savoy:
What?

Crash Davis:
Why do you get to choose? I mean, why don't I get to choose, why doesn't he get to choose?

Annie Savoy:
Well, actually, nobody on this planet ever really chooses each other. I mean, it's all a question of quantum physics, molecular attraction, and timing. Why, there are laws we don't understand that bring us together and tear us apart. Uh, it's like pheromones. You get three ants together, they can't do dick. You get 300 million of them, they can build a cathedral.

Ebby Calvin LaLoosh:
So is somebody going to go to bed with somebody or what?

Annie Savoy:
Honey, you are a regular nuclear meltdown. You better cool off. Ha ha, ha ha!

Annie Savoy:
Oh, where are you going?

Crash Davis:
After 12 years in the minor leagues, I don't try out. Besides, uh, I don't believe in quantum physics when it comes to matters of the heart.

Annie Savoy:
What do you believe in, then?

Crash Davis:
Well, I believe in the soul, the cock, the p*ssy, the small of a woman's back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.

Crash Davis:
Goodnight.

Annie Savoy:
Oh my. Crash...

Ebby Calvin LaLoosh:
Hey, Annie, what's all this molecule stuff?

Crash:
Relax, all right? Don't try to strike everybody out. Strikeouts are boring! Besides that, they're fascist. Throw some ground balls - it's more democratic.

Nuke:
[to himself] What's this guy know about pitching? If he's so good how come he's been in the minors for the last ten years? If he's so good how come Annie wants me instead of him?

Crash:
[turns back] Oh, hey, and another thing, Meat. You don't know sh*t, all right? If you wanna make it to the bigs, you'll listen to me. Annie only wants you so she can boss you around, got it? So relax! Let's have some fun out here! This game's fun, OK? Fun goddamnit. And don't hold the ball so hard, OK? It's an egg. Hold it like an egg.

Nuke:
[to himself again] What's he know about fun? I'm young. I know about fun. An old man. He don't know nothin' about fun.

Crash:
[behind the plate again] All right. Nobody's goin' out there. [Crash calls for a curve ball]

Nuke:
[to himself] Why's he calling for a curve ball? I want to bring heat. Shake him off. Throw what you want.

[Crash gives Nuke the sign for the pitch, Nuke shakes his head again.]

Crash:
Timeout. [Walks to the mound] Hey! Why are you shaking me off? Huh?

Nuke:
I want to bring the heater. Announce my presence with authority.

Crash:
To announce your what?

Nuke:
Announce my presence with authority!

Crash:
To announce your f***ing presence with authority?! This guy's a first-ball, fastball hitter, he's looking for the heat.

Nuke:
So what? He ain't seen my heat.

Crash:
All right, Meat. Give him your heat. [He walks back to his place behind the plate.]

Nuke:
Why's he always calling me Meat? I'm the guy driving a Porsche.

Crash:
[to the batter at the plate] Fastball.

[Nuke throws it and the batter hits a home run. The batter stands there, watching.]

Crash:
What are you doin'? Huh? What are you doing standing here? I gave you a gift. You stand here showing up my pitcher? Run, dummy!


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