It’s rather fun to get hold a review disc without cover or label artwork and to then try and figure out from the title alone what the film’s going to be about. So when Summer Catch landed on the review desk, we resisted the temptation to go searching the IMDB for answers, and instead tried to visualise what we were in for, based solely on the vague memory of a film by this title being a box-office bomb. The studio logo fades to black and our story begins...
In a small coastal village somewhere in America, a strange thing has been happening. Brian Over knows it, but isn’t sure how - maybe he just senses it through the pores of his skin. But he’s certain - the girls at the local high school are turning into sea bass. He just knows it. Take Miffy Parfait for example. Three weeks ago she was a bright, athletic and radiantly happy girl who ignored him as he scrubbed out the brine tanks of her rich father’s recreational fishing trawler. But now she looks... kind of scaly. Barry can’t quite put his finger on it. In fact, Barry doesn’t have a finger. Because Barry is a penguin. And if the town’s girls really are turning into fish, then Barry’s about to make a really, really big summer catch...
“Nahh. Test audiences hate penguins. Let’s try another one...”
In a small town called Cape Cod, somewhere in America in a place often called Massachusetts, a strange thing has been happening. Ryan Dunne knows it, but isn’t sure how - maybe he just senses it through the hard dirt of the pitching mound. But he’s certain - girls look terrific in a red bikini. He just knows it. Take Tenley Parrish for example. Three weeks ago she was a lithe, athletic and decidedly shapely girl who ignored him as he tended the lawns at her rich father’s mansion. But now she looks... kind of desirable. Ryan can’t quite put his finger on it. If he did, Ryan soon wouldn’t have a finger. Because Tenley’s dad is a right bastard. But if Tenley really is interested in knowing him, then Ryan’s about to make a really, really big summer catch...
“Excellent, team! That’s our plot. Call Warner Brothers. Oh, one more thing before you do - can we amp up the baseball factor a bit? Or a lot? Then we can get those guys that did Varsity Blues to make it and score ourselves the female romance audience AND the male misogynists all with the one film! Oh, and make sure you don’t send that Anthony guy at DVDnet any cover art, or he might go into our movie with preconceived ideas...”
This is the point, of course, where we’d usually say “all kidding aside” and move on. But we can’t do that right now. Because Summer Catch is a rather bad movie, and the only possible way to cope with frittering 100-minutes-plus-extras of one’s life away on such a money-burning misfire is to try and find the irony and humour in it all.
Our second “plot” above is, believe it or not, pretty much what Summer Catch hangs its baseball cap on. Sure, there’s a lot of action with bats and balls and a making-it-against-the-family-odds teen-triumph storyline to help program the youngsters to be good little citizens and not complain about their miserable lot in life, but ultimately this is a standard-issue teenage romance flick with all the cliches neatly lined up and slotted into place.
The film’s philosophy is set up early on, in a scene involving the rather flamboyant Dede Mulligan (played by Brittany Murphy, who was brilliant in Don’t Say A Word but seems to sleepwalk through this one) who pours a bottle of beer down a sleeping Ryan’s throat by standing over him, putting the bottle between her legs and leaning forwards. Dede later works her multi-man charms on a player whose career has hit rock bottom; suddenly he can play again. Ryan, though, only finds his baseball muse when he runs into Tenley Parrish (who names these people anyway?) The moral of the story, it seems, is that the love of a good woman can bring you better playing, but the attention of a loose woman equals complete career resurrection. Or maybe baseball’s always like this.
The film is loaded with unexplained references to butts. Characters comment about them constantly, to the point where it becomes hilarious. “Sorry, I stuck my butt in your face,” says Dede to Billy Brubaker (!) as she manoeuvres into a car. “Fine by me!” comes the salacious Brubaker's response. Later, when Ryan’s brother deadpans the line “the only person that’s not behind you is yourself,” it sounds like Carry-On comedy when it’s supposed to be a moving moment.
Sure, we have two leads that simply don’t have any chemistry with each other, but given decent words these two could probably act and maybe even convince us that they like each other. Here, Freddie Prinze Jr is restricted to being suitably teen-idolesque as Ryan, and rebelling 7th Heaven star Jessica Biel, probably the only actress currently working that has a deeper voice than Freddie himself, stalks him for no apparent reason (the scene containing her motivation ended up on the cutting-room floor). Early on, in fact, it looks like Biel is going to provide some dramatic spark and the personality the film so badly needs, but in the end she’s sunk by the script (conceived and co-written by Kevin Falls, who’s previously done episodes of The West Wing and wrote the fun thriller The Temp). The dialogue is appalling, even when it’s uttered by seasoned pros like Brian Dennehy, Fred Ward and Bruce “that guy from The Practice” Davison. Take this exchange, acted with all the passion of a Wagner opera plus the raw emotion of Rebel Without A Cause, and shamelessly invoking the much-feared That Syndrome not once, but twice:
Ryan: “I love standing on that mound with a baseball in my hand, starin’ at a guy holdin’ a club sixty feet away, knowing that he can’t touch me. It is the ONLY place in the world where I... feel... powerful. Shit... I’ll probably end up cuttin’ grass.”
Tenley: “You’re so scared of everything - success, love... You say you love being out there on that mound, why would you EVER settle for cutting grass?”
From the above, we can establish what the film’s trying to tell us. Basically, there are two options in the world. You can make it in baseball. Or you can cut grass.
At this point in the movie, some neighbours walked past in the corridor outside and promptly cracked up laughing. Just as well, then, that they only caught the above embarrassing moment and weren’t around for another character's impassioned speech about why he’s turned on by “larger women”, or the denouement of an incomprehensible sub-plot involving Beverly D’Angelo and the line “Hand me the cucumber.” The neighbours could not witness the least dangerous fire rescue in cinematic history, or they surely would have laughed long and hearty. They missed out on hearing the many occasions where Ryan hears voices in his head, which are represented by having them bounce around the surround channels on a digital delay like a motivational speaker trapped inside a Muppet Show sketch. And they missed Brian Dennehy passionately motivating Ryan to go out and pitch by telling him one day he’ll get the special feeling which “gives you the strength to go out there and face those sons of bitches.” Reports that Dennehy accidentally brought along the script to Saving Private Ryan that day remain unconfirmed.
We could go on for hours. But why should we bore you more than this movie will? If you love baseball, the romance will annoy you. If you love cheesy teen romance, the baseball will be an annoying distraction. And if you love movies that make you laugh and cheer and cry and scream and quiver and feel, you’ve just bought the wrong DVD.
A lot of attention has been lavished on this video transfer, which is pretty much normal these days for Warner’s NTSC discs (and yes, this is yet another one of 'em). Presented at 1.78:1, it opens the matte up slightly from its theatrical version, but this has obviously been planned for during shooting and shot composition is unaffected. The transfer is, naturally, 16:9 enhanced.
Colour resolution is superb, right from the opening Warner Bros logo onwards, and aside from some blurriness and a few film glitches during the very brief opening title sequence, both the film source and the video compression are absolutely flawless. There’s loads of detail throughout, and difficult scenes to capture properly on disc cause no problems here - most notably, the extended sequence involving Ryan and Tenley swimming in a steamy, heated outdoor pool at night while it’s pouring with rain is one that would have been the undoing of lesser discs, but here there’s not a pixel out of place. We should mention, by the way, that the cinematography is excellent throughout (it’s by Tim Suhrstedt, who shot the interconnecting sequences on Fantasia 2000 - as well as Bill And Ted’s Excellent Adventure!)
Remarkably, the film is stored on a single-layered disc, packed to the brim with data - proof positive that good compression beats extra space any day.