I make no secret of my love for Major League.¬†
As the type of guy who still laughs at the word “dictation” every time he hears it, this 106-minute R-rated comedy is my Citizen Kane. Compared to Major League, The Natural is a soap opera; Field of Dreams¬†is Snoresville,¬†and The Rookie¬†is somehow rendered even less watchable. The movie’s casting, its plot (albeit well-worn), its unprecedented ability to make Cleveland seem like a place worth visiting — it’s all perfect to me. OK, seeing Rene Russo’s jugs would’ve been nice, but that’s grasping at straws.
Major League’s only fault? The sequels.
That’s why I find the apparent progression of Major League 3 to be a rather unsavory and sad bit of news. Personally, I thought they already made Major League 3. Wasn’t that …Back to the Minors¬†— the sequel that had a few actors from ML1 and ML2 (the ones who couldn’t get other work at the time) and a plot centered around a Minor League affiliate OF THE TWINS? Regardless, I implore Hollywood to keep on churning out God awful re-makes of any terrible ’80s movie or TV series for as long as they see fit. I welcome it — on one condition. Let the Major League film catalog die with whatever dignity it has left. Hasn’t enough damage already been inflicted on one of humanity’s finest films? That’s rhetorical, by the way.
I’m not saying I won’t see this movie if it’s made. I know I will. I’ll go in dragging my feet reluctantly, trying to coax myself into believing it might not be cinematic crabs. And afterwards, every time I see my worn out Major League VHS in my movie cabinet, I — just like I do as result of the two previous sequels — won’t only see what I consider to be one of the world’s best movies, but also a vehicle that spawned some of the world’s worst and least necessary.
I mean, unless they can get Rene Russo to show her jugs in this one. She’s still working it.