This quitting thing, it’s a hard habit to break once you start. —Coach Morris Buttermaker

W.C. Fields said, never work with children or animals. Give the kids beer, cigarettes, a mouthful of vulgarities, volatile tempers, and bigotry and you might just rethink your position on animals. But that’s exactly what Coach Morris Buttermaker does and the results are…well, vulgar, violent, bigoted, and decidedly not politically correct, but hilarious nonetheless.

There is hardly an underdog sports movie today that doesn’t owe something to this film. Despite its datedness, it still stands up today. Mathhau is outstanding in his role as Morris Buttermaker. Watching his character arc from a man who has all but given up, to one who simply agrees to try again, is nothing short of genius. Everything else in the film is a reflection of where he is on his path to redemption. And the film pulls no punches. Amid the comedy of errors, we have moments of real pain, regret, anger, and humiliation, as well as resolve, redemption, apology, and ultimately triumph. Pivotal moments such as when he pushes Amanda away because he knows he’s no good for her, or when he realizes he’s no better than his ultra-competitive nemesis Coach Turner, come across loud and clear without being verbalized. That’s no easy feat.

And each kid has a defined personality all unto their own. What they have in common is that they don’t fit in, and no one wants them to. They’re classic underdogs, but with distinctive voices and reasons for why they’ve given up on a world that’s given up on them at the ripe old age of 10.

The music may as well be a character as it comments on the action scenes, ironcially suggesting they were well orchestrated operatic movements. The music, being an adaptation of the principle themes in the opera Carmen, shares a bit more than one might think with its source. Carmen was the first of what’s called Opera-Comique, which is to say it was the first light hearted opera departing from the tradition of heavy, heroic, and serious, and it has, as its major characters, a group of gypsies. It’s not much of a stretch to say that the ragtag group of misfits that make up the Bears are a kind of sports gypsies. And while it’s not the first sports comedy ever made, it is an early model who’s formula was copied over the following years.

Underdog sports stories were made before 1976, but back then they almost always had the underdog coming out on top by the end of the picture. 1976 was exceptional for underdog sports films because of the two films in this genre that came out that year, both underdogs failed to win the top honors. Both Rocky and The Bears continue to teach us today that in sports, and in life, winning isn’t everything, being the best you can be is.

Amanda: Hey, Buttermaker! Maybe next spring you’ll teach me how to hit.
Buttermaker: You bet.

I’ve been disappointed before. —Morris Buttermaker

Richard Linklater gave us Dazed and Confused, and with it, showed us that he not only has an intricate genuine sensibility for the late 70s, but that he also has a sense of humor that is in touch with the time. So it defies explanation how he could take a title like The Bad News Bears and make it unwatchable.

There were some updates that made it fun (chief among them being a strip club sponsor rather than a bail bondsman), but ultimately they are not enough to sustain it. Change the script, or keep it exactly like the original, either way you can’t make it work without personality. This film is ultimately about personality.

None of the kids have the personality of the original cast, with the exception of Timmy Deters playing Tanner. Clearly this kid studied because he acts just like the original Tanner, and lucky for him not much had changed in the update. But clearly Sammi Kane Kraft was cast as Amanda for her athletic ability rather than her acting. And one would think that if the movie hinges on the relationship between Amanda and Buttermaker, you would cast an an athletic actor rather than an athlete who can’t act.

Greg Kinear is admirable in his role as the opposing coach Bullock, but whether he or the director watered down the character to a goofy, smiley-on-the-surface, middle-class dad, I don’t know. I do know that it makes it hard to believe him when he does have to deliver the lines that are supposed to make him seem ultra-competitive. Ultimately it makes it hard to really hate him. And when the payoff for that hate comes, when he is supposed to smack his kid on the mound, he only knocks his hat off, and the falling on the ground seems like an unintentional effect of the whole confrontation. No he won’t win any father of the year awards, but he’s hardly the monster we need him to be to make us feel vindicated when his kid purposely blows the next play, or to keep us feeling sympathetic to Buttermaker despite all his failings.

And so the whole movie rests on Buttermaker, and admittedly, it’s an important role. But Billy Bob Thorton seems like he just showed up to read his lines. At times, what is supposed to pass for a reflective moment, simply looks like he’s trying to remember what comes next.

Baseball movies, or any sports movies for that matter, are not simply about the underdogs coming out on top. That’s the plot to move you through the story. What they are about is Personality, they’re about Character. They’re about the type of person you have to be to not quit, to stand up and fight, to help someone and let someone help you, to admit when you’re wrong, and to make an effort to change. The original captured all that just as eloquently as Rocky, Hoosiers, or Remember the Titans, with all the wit and comedy of Major League, Bull Durham, or The Replacements. Unfortunately, this version falls short of the fence and doesn’t quite drive the message home.

The 1933 original King Kong was a landmark film. It effectively started the monster movie trend and brought groundbreaking stop motion animation effects to the masses, inspiring the likes of Ray Harryhausen. The combination of monster effects and a genuine human story vaulted the monster movie into something genuinely cinematic. It had romance, man vs. nature, the plight of the misunderstood, human nature—simply everything. The 1976 version was a decent film but updating it the way they did made it very much a product of its time. Things like the use of the twin towers, the mission for oil drilling, and its focus on humor, take away from the grandness of the story and contribute to the campiness of it.

The 2005 version gives the story the utmost respect and in effect, makes it a timeless classic. All the power and magic of the original is there but in stunning color and light. The level of detail, which can only be appreciated by watching the behind the scenes features, serves to completely blend the performances, animation, and effects into a seamless and believable environment spanning from 1933 New York to the fictitious tropical jungle of Skull Island.

Throughout the film there are references and homages to the original nestled into the fabric of the story. The ship has artifacts from the original as wall hangings and decor, some of the big monster battles are frame for frame copies of the original, and the show in NYC uses the costumes and music of the original skull island natives.

The bond between Ann Darrow and Kong, which is at the heart of the story, is much more apparent than it was in 76 and much more relatable than it could be in 33. Kong’s ability to communicate the whole gamut of human emotion allows us to see him for the misunderstood fish out of water that he is. And like a depression error Frankenstein, we sympathize with him for simply wanting what we all want, someone to share this world with.

This version stands on its own whether you’ve seen previous ones or not. It either pleases you with its rendition of familiar material, or it introduces you to it with all the power and mystique of the original.