You Gotta Believe, 2024.
Directed by Ty Roberts.
Starring Luke Wilson, Greg Kinnear, Sarah Gadon, Lew Temple, Michael Cash, Etienne Kellici, Molly Parker, Patrick Renna, Connor McMahon, Blake DeLong, Jacob Soley, Gavin MacIver-Wright, Josh Reich, Nicholas Fry, Jordan Sawyer, Ali Hassan, Christopher Seivright, Davide Fair, Jacob Mazeral, Seth Murchison, Scott Mackenzie, Phoenix Ellis, Evan Hasler, Zachary Cox, Taylor Hunt Wright, Zachary Morton, Ashley Emerson, Justin Adams, and Sandra Flores.
SYNOPSIS:
A Little League baseball team of misfits dedicate their season to a player’s dying father. In doing so, they accomplish the impossible by reaching the World Series finals in a game that became an ESPN instant classic.
You Gotta Believe is based on a real underdog 2002 Little League baseball team battling their way to a championship game following a player’s father (also one of their coaches) diagnosed with cancer. However, one would be forgiven for not picking up on this since the movie’s tone is much goofier, utilizing familiar sports tropes such as the unbelievably bad team that is easily fixed by a few position swaps and quick coaching lessons that miraculously lead to instant results.
Co-written and directed by Ty Roberts (who has dabbled in this inspirational sports subgenre before with the recently released 12 Mighty Orphans, which similarly suffered from a reliance on the safest tropes), it plays more like he and co-writer Lane Garrison came up with the concept of a struggling son playing harder for his sick father, under the impression that doing so and believing might potentially save him from the worst fate. Naturally, the father chooses to believe in his son as much as he does spiritually, doing everything in his power to balance chemotherapy with still showing up for the games.
The father is Bobby Ratliff (Luke Wilson, fresh off of a small part in Kevin Costner’s Horizon and one of the most annoying sports commercials of all time that coincidently plays nonstop during MLB broadcasts), your standard blue-collar Texas American raising a family on sports and faith. After a particularly rough blowout, he attempts lecturing and practicing with his son Robert (Connor McMahon) before passing out and getting the unfortunate diagnosis. Bobby also has a decent support system with his wife Patti (Sarah Gadon) and his nonsports-playing son.
It’s a confounding choice from a casting perspective since Luke Wilson provides an upbeat energy and a sillier side that fits the team. When Bobby is diagnosed, there is a charismatic hole here for that fun, as the narrative also seems unsure if it wants to transition into a more dramatic story or keep up with playfully poking fun at the on-field terribleness of these children, the amusing ways they better themselves, their shared love of baseball (there is a beautiful scene that sees everyone buying baseball cards, which is funny and touching), and how the possibility of death brings them all together playing their hearts out for one another. Luke Wilson is obviously passionate about this story and the message of the material, but he is still miscast here in a film that has no interest in playing to his strengths.
The problem is that everything from the coaching to the team tweaking is a bit too ridiculous. Greg Kinnear’s work-obsessed close friend to Bobby, managing the team in the Little League playoffs, brings in an assistant coach of sorts (Lew Temple) who feels too cartoonish in his methods, something that becomes far more frustrating once the true story nature of all of this becomes more evident and in-your-face (there are ESPN highlight clips and more.)
Then there are the children, defined by the simplest of traits; one of them is attracted to their teammate’s sister watching the games, another is named Walker and happens to walk everyone he pitches until his mechanics are magically fixed in one training session, and a kid also suddenly starts tracking the ball better with his eyes once he removes his glasses. If aspects of this are true, there is also a hell of a lot that feels needlessly fictionalized, serving no purpose. In the film’s defense, there are likable, sweet, amusing kids easy to cheer for.
And yet, the emotions that bubble up to the surface in the third act are still effective, primarily because it’s also the only time You Gotta Believe appears to be digging into something truthful. The climactic big game has personal and professional stakes, playing out with genuine suspense (especially for those unfamiliar with this team.) There is a third act and an ending here that will leave one flat-out annoyed by all the errors made beforehand. Perhaps the game that garnered national coverage is the only interesting element of this true story in the first place.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
