Bull Durham

Bull Durham is a fine romantic comedy that takes minor-league baseball seriously without requiring us to do the same. Ron Shelton, who writes and directs, understands how a shared obsession gives people something to discuss while they consider rather more personal matters. We recommend it for the cast, the humour and its pleasure in adult attraction. It does occasionally sound too pleased with its own cleverness. But the romance has enough life in it to survive a few lines that should have stayed in the notebook.

The triangle puts Susan Sarandon’s Annie Savoy between Kevin Costner’s Crash Davis and Tim Robbins’s Nuke LaLoosh. Sarandon gives Annie a confidence that keeps the arrangement from feeling like two men competing over a prize. She makes the character’s interest in sex and baseball seem equally natural, and her enjoyment matters to the comedy. Costner is particularly good opposite her: his composure gives their exchanges time to develop without insisting on a laugh at every pause. We found ourselves grinning at their flirtation because neither performer seemed in any hurry to finish it.

Robbins lets us enjoy Nuke’s foolishness without requiring us to dislike him. His eagerness is a useful complication for Costner’s self-possession, and the contrast keeps the triangle lively even when we can see Shelton arranging the complications. The director also makes life around the team enjoyable in its own right, so the baseball scenes never feel like compulsory interruptions between conversations. We laughed at the sporting comedy because the players remain recognisable people even when their behaviour is ridiculous.

Bobby Byrne’s cinematography is particularly effective in the romantic exchanges, keeping our attention on the performers and their responses to one another. The attraction is easy to read without the photography making too much of it. Armin Ganz’s production design gives the baseball setting the convincing ordinariness of a workplace, which helps the humour. We believe these people spend their days here, and their surroundings do not insist that every working day must be an occasion for sporting reverence.

Michael Convertino’s music helps sustain the easy mood, though the actors supply most of the romantic feeling. Editors Robert Leighton and Adam Weiss give the performances room, and the relaxed pace generally suits a comedy in which wanting someone is allowed to take time. Their patience is less helpful when Shelton’s dialogue grows self-conscious. At 108 minutes, the film does not need drastic shortening, but a few exchanges could end sooner without costing us any affection for the characters.

The difficulty is that Shelton sometimes writes people who sound too aware of how interesting they are. Sarandon is persuasive enough to keep Annie from becoming merely a collection of clever opinions, but there are passages where we notice the effort involved. A line can be amusing on its own and still interrupt the conversation around it. Shelton does not always make that distinction, and the direction occasionally indulges writing that the performers could manage with less fuss.

Against the familiar sports-comedy business of proving yourself through a result, this film’s interest in ordinary companionship is welcome. Baseball gives the characters somewhere to belong and something to care about, while their romantic entanglements give the rest of us ample reason to stay. There is no need to acquire a sporting interest in preparation. Watch it in company that enjoys flirtation and will forgive the occasional person who talks too much.