Franchises: The Sandlot. The Sandlot: Heading Home (2007)

At the start of my review of The Sandlot 2, I said that I knew there were a couple of direct-to-video sequels when I saw either a DVD or Blu-Ray set of all three of them at Wal-Mart, but I always ignored them and only ever bought the original. I also said that I would've never watched them if I didn't have this blog and, thus, felt obligated to talk about them after doing the first one in 2023. That feeling was especially true of this one, when I heard it involved time-travel, of all things. Talk about an infinitely worse idea than simply rehashing the original's plot, as the second one did. I was told early on that it was actually not that bad, and it does have a better IMDB rating than the second one (though they're both still rated very low), but I wasn't holding out much hope when I first watched it on Disney Plus. Now, admittedly, it did turn out to be a bit better than the second, mainly because it does do its own thing, and the time-travel aspect wasn't handled in the way I was expecting, with an actual time machine and such, which was a pleasant surprise. However, I hate the way this movie looks, as it often has that low-budget, shot on digital aesthetic that never fails me to turn me off and makes it feel even cheaper than the second one. I'm also pretty sure there were instances of the actors standing in front of a green screen when that shouldn't have been necessary. On top of that, the production design often feels cheap in and of itself, and there are some really bad visual effects and instances of digital editing. The kid actors are okay but, like with the second movie, none of them are as memorable or have the charisma of the most prominent kids in the original. There are a couple of returning characters from the original, but I'm not big on how they're utilized. And finally, there's the story, which, as Heather Boerner, a reviewer at Common Sense Media, described, is like The Sandlot mixed with Back to the Future and A Christmas Carol. While certainly an interesting approach that does make it stand out, it's not as effective as the filmmakers hoped it would be, and misses the point of The Sandlot itself.

Tommy "Santa" Santorelli is a very successful but arrogant and selfish baseball player who, when he was thirteen, lived in the San Fernando Valley and played on the beloved sandlot. Having discovered a knack for the game there, he played in and won the all-city championship on July 4th, 1976. After his beloved mother, Sara, died of cancer shortly afterward, Tommy went to St. Agnus Preparatory School. Though he successfully honed his skills over the years, he's proven to not only be full of himself but also disloyal, moving from one team to another throughout his career. For the past three years, he's been playing for the Los Angeles Dodgers, and while he's been doing good, the team's overall numbers have been lousy. According to the team's manager, Benny Rodriguez, it's because Tommy's attitude of not really trying has spilled over to the other players. In the midst of his final season, Tommy is practicing at Dodger Stadium, but things go awry when a fireworks display is accidentally set off. Blinded by it, Tommy is hit square in the head by a pitch and knocked unconscious. He awakens to find himself back in the San Fernando Valley in 1976, as his thirteen-year old self, and with his mother still alive. What's more, the sandlot, which is demolished in the modern day, is there, and a group of local kids play on it. At first thinking it's just a dream, Tommy gradually starts to realize it's something else. The sandlot kids ask him to play with them, as they need another player, and Benny Rodriguez, who's also younger and still plays for the Dodgers, is going to help coach them. Tommy also meets Michael "Squints" Palledorous, who's now the baseball commissioner. Though he shows off his skills during practice, he refuses to play with them during the all-city championships, as he intends to spend as much time as he can with his mother. However, when he saves one of the kids, the mute Ryan, from local bully E.J. Needman, who plays on one of the other teams, Tommy decides to join for the enjoyment of beating him. Moreover, the final game of the championship is used to decide the fate of the sandlot, which Earl Needman, E.J.'s wealthy father and owner of his team, is planning to bulldoze in order to build condominiums in its place. However, upon remembering that he originally played on Needman's team, which sent him on the path to baseball superstardom, Tommy must decide whether or not he'll let history repeat itself.

Given how he came to regret writing and directing The Sandlot 2, original director David Mickey Evans, unsurprisingly, had nothing to do with Heading Home. However, the man who took up the reins was not some nobody with little-to-no experience, as you might expect for a movie like this. It was William Dear, a veteran screenwriter and director who's been working in the industry since the 70's. Having worked on the second unit for Paul Schrader on Blue Collar and Hardcore, Dear's best known work as a director is probably Harry and the Hendersons and, fittingly enough, Angels in the Outfield. He also directed films such as If Looks Could Kill, Wild America, and Santa Who?, and when he did The Sandlot: Heading Home, he was still directing features, albeit features that nobody saw (Simon Says and The Foursome), which is pretty much how his career has continued up to now, along with his TV work.

The Christmas Carol analogy that Heather Boerner came up with is very valid, as this film, at its heart, is a redemption story where a bad person relives the period in his life that made him who he is and gets a second chance to better himself. In this case, our Ebenezer Scrooge is Tommy Santorelli (Luke Perry), or "Santa," as he nicknamed himself because, "It was a gift for anyone to watch him play." Though he does have the talent to back it up, Tommy is still an extremely arrogant, conceited asshole who thinks he's the greatest thing to ever happen to the sport of baseball. When being interviewed following a game, and asked why the Los Angeles Dodgers haven't been doing so good lately, he smugly answers, "What are you askin' me for? I went three for four. Homered in the sixth, in case you didn't see that." Told by a female reporter that his team lost, he retorts, "No, sweetie, they lost...  Look, if these guys want to play like a bunch of losers, there's nothing I can do to stop 'em, okay?" And when he comes out onto the field to practice, he proclaims to everyone within earshot, "Oh, it's a great day for baseball. Yeah, and one of the last. I'll tell you what, boys, when Santa's gone, party's over. You better cherish these days while they're here." He says that because, at the start of the movie, he's announced that his 19th season will be his last, and figures the Dodgers will be doomed once he's gone. The Dodgers happen to be one of numerous teams he's played on during his career, as he has about as much loyalty as he does humility. And as talented as he is, Tommy has reached the point to where he only plays for the money and the fame, rather than for the love of the game. According to Benny Rodriguez at the start, that attitude of Tommy's has bled over to the other players on the team, which is why the Dodgers have been so lousy lately. You later learn that Tommy is so selfish that he took a lucrative offer to play for the New York Yankees, even though his fiance at the time, Judy, had just taken up residency in Los Angeles. This prompted her to leave him and write a tell-all book.

While in the middle of batting practice, Tommy, after he deliberately hits some balls right at a pair of technicians setting up a Fourth of July display, gets knocked unconscious when the display momentarily blinds him and he's whacked in the head by a pitch. When he comes to, he's back at the sandlot in the San Fernando Valley, as his thirteen-year old self (Keanu Pires), in the summer of 1976. Finding himself amid a group of kids who apparently whacked him with a fly-ball and caused him to wreck his bicycle, Tommy

is dumbfounded to find where he is, both in terms of location and time, and also when he realizes he's a kid again. He faints upon seeing his reflection in someone's sunglasses, and awakens back in his old bedroom, with his deceased mother, Sara, alive and well, and looking after him. Though initially put off by this as well, Tommy is happy to see his mother, whom he was very close to, and decides that if this is a dream, it's a good one. But he awakens the next morning to find himself still there, wearing his old 

Speed Racer pajamas, but it takes him a while to accept that it's real. He remembers the sandlot kids, both their individual names and special skills, as well as their futures (some of which aren't so good). He's also shocked to learn that Benny Rodriguez, whom he still thinks of as a bum because he knows he became a coach after injuring his knee, is there. While reluctant to join their team for the all-city championship, Tommy heads back over to the sandlot at his mother's urging, and meets Squints, whom he remembers is now the baseball commissioner. When Benny asks if

any of the kids want to act as batter while he pitches, Tommy, after talking smack the whole time, is more than willing to take up the challenge. And he proves that he's able to back up his words, as he hits one homer after another. He still refuses to play on their team, though, and arrogantly tells them that he showed them how to do it, adding, "That's my little gift to you guys. Hey, they don't call me the Santa for nothin'." Despite their disappointment, they keep after him, but Tommy continues turning them down. When

Ryan shows up at a small diner where he's having lunch, Tommy tells him the whole story, as far-fetched as it sounds, and explains that he wants to enjoy his time there as much as he can, particularly by spending time with his mother.

His attitude changes when he saves Ryan from being bullied by E.J. Needman, whom he remembers he always hated. Already irritated at his bullying, when E.J. goes for a low-blow and mentions his mother's cancer, Tommy decides to join the sandlot team so he can put him in his place. Of course, he realizes he has his work cut out for him in whipping the kids into shape, as they tend to mess around and get into arguments. He also insists that they play like professionals and get the equipment that they need. 

They do so by breaking into Mr. Mertle's now abandoned house, managing to score a special baseball autographed by every player of the 1963 Dodgers in the haul. And with Benny's help, they get into great playing shape, while Squints provides them with their own uniforms. Come the tournament, they easily smoke all of their contenders, and the championship comes down to them and the team sponsored by Earl Needman's realty company. Moreover, Needman decides that the outcome of the 

final game should decide the fate of the sandlot... after he's convinced Tommy to play on his team instead. Knowing that winning for Needman's team is what started him on the path to becoming a baseball superstar, Tommy makes the decision. Not only does this crush his teammates, but it prompts Ryan to speak for the first time, letting him know how angry he especially feels about this betrayal. Tommy finds that playing on Needman's team isn't all it's cracked up to be, due to E.J.'s bullying and Needman himself pressuring Tommy to win for them. Between all this 

conflict and his mother's worsening health, he almost doesn't go to the game at all. She, however, urges him to go, telling him, "Good things happen to good people." Promising to come home as soon as the game is over, he heads over there and, in the end, decides he was wrong, apologizes to his friends, and plays on their team. Naturally, despite a bit of a struggle, they win and the sandlot is saved. Keeping his promise, he rushes home to be with his mom, whose condition has got even worse in the hours since he left. Ryan then shows up and tosses him the game ball, which he says is rightfully his. But when he does, Tommy is, again, distracted by fireworks and gets whacked in the head.

When he wakes up, he's now back in the present, recovering at Cedars-Sinai,. Moreover, he slowly but surely realizes that his life has not only completely changed, but for the better. He's remained loyal to the Dodgers his entire career, turning down numerous lucrative offers; he's married to Judy and they have two young children; he's not only kept in touch with the sandlot gang but they've all arrived to visit him upon hearing of his injury; and, most importantly to Tommy himself, the sandlot still stands, thanks to him. Happy about all of this, he says to his late mother, "It's just like you said, Mom: 'Good things happen to good people.'" 

Even though it's the emotional core of the film, I have a lot of issues with Tommy's character arc. A big one is that I'm not all that invested in whether or not he's going to make the right decision this time around. It's not because Tommy, both as an adult and a kid, is so arrogant that he's unlikable (trust me, there are other arrogant characters whom I've found far harder to take), but because you can predict exactly how it's going turn out. Even though he does initially decide to play on Needman's team because it ensured that he 

would become the big sports-star that he is, seemingly dooming the sandlot yet again, you just know that, between Ryan telling him how he ruined a potential lifelong friendship and his mother telling him that good things happen to good people, he's going to eventually turn his back on Needman, play with sandlot team, and win the game. (It doesn't even seem to take that much to make him change his mind, either.) Plus, since the coach from St. Agnus decides that Tommy is worthy of going to his school anyway because of his good sportsmanship and love for the

game, it didn't matter what team he played on. It might've been more impactful, in fact, if Tommy stayed on Needman's team and they lost, with the sandlot team putting into practice what they learned, but Tommy still played a good, fair game, impressing the coach. What's more, you could've also had Tommy apologize to the sandlot team afterward and, even if they didn't forgive him, this could've inspired him to be the better person he is when the story shifts back to the present day.

That's another thing: Tommy doesn't get to experience the more positive journey inspired by his alternate decision. Instead, he just wakes up to find, much to his surprise, he's a beloved and loyal player, a happy family man, and has maintained his friendship with the guys over the years. Granted, Ebenezer Scrooge wakes up on Christmas morning with his bad reputation still very much a thing, at first, but you get to see the result of his newfound motivation to be a better person. Or, to bring in something similar, at

least at the end of Groundhog Day, you see how Phil Connors is now able to go forth and enjoy being the good person he went through so much to become. Here, Tommy only has to take the first step, and then the rest is handed to him on a silver platter. Finally, it's said at the beginning that the reason for Tommy's disloyalty is due to his beloved mother dying of cancer when he was thirteen and thus, a major priority for him is for him to spend as much time with her as he can. It also seems like he's trying to prevent her from becoming ill this time, as he often asks her if

she's okay, and he almost misses the big game to stay with her, seeming to think it'll make a difference. In the end, he still loses her, in spite of his decision, and it doesn't seem to affect him, when there should've been a moment where he wrestles with the notion that there are some things he can't change. But no, all it took was her telling him, "Good things happen to good people," an overly simplistic notion, and which is very often not the case in real life, for him to make peace with it.

While The Sandlot 2 only had James Earl Jones return as Mr. Mertle, Heading Home manages to get two legacy characters into the story. One is Benny Rodriguez (Danny Nucci), whom we see at the beginning as the Dodgers' manager, saying that Tommy doesn't play for the love of the game and that, for all talent, he's never understood that idea. Benny is also melancholic and nostalgic for the old sandlot team, whom he says really understood it, but adds that baseball players like them don't exist anymore, just

like the sandlot. When the movie shifts to 1976, we see Benny in his prime as a batter for the Dodgers, and he returns to his hometown to help coach the sandlot team. Upon meeting Tommy, Benny is a bit confused about how this kid seems to already know him, but he admires his confidence and tenacity. He's doubly impressed when the two of them practice together and Tommy manages to hit every single pitch he throws. However, Benny tells him, "You got some talent, kid. There's a lot more to baseball than talent." Tommy retorts, "Maybe you should've taken that advice in the '81 World Series," and Benny just smiles and says, "I like you, kid. You got quite the imagination. '81 World Series, huh?" We don't see Benny again for quite a while, and in the interim, he suffers one of many knee injuries that eventually force him to retire and become a coach. But, despite needing crutches, he makes it to practice and helps to get the kids into playing shape. While he's, naturally, disappointed when Tommy goes to play on Needman's team for the all-city championship, knowing it's all but the kiss of death for the sandlot itself, he doesn't seem to harbor resentment towards him, like the players. Of course, he's more than happy when Tommy decides to play with them, tossing him his uniform, which he says he's happy he didn't throw out. And when Tommy is returned to the present day at the end, Benny calls him his star player and talks about how he's remained loyal to the Dodgers his whole career.

While Danny Nucci does okay as Benny, I feel like he doesn't quite bring the coolness and that smidge of cynicism the character had in the original movie. He just plays him as an overly positive guy, for the most part, and it also seems like Nucci is trying to play up Benny's being Hispanic, with the inflections I hear in his voice (unless that's just how Nucci, who's actually Jewish, naturally talks; I haven't really paid attention to him when he's popped up in other movies, some of which have been quite major). It's just a shame that

Mike Vitar didn't return to play the role but he gave up acting in 1997 and went on to be a firefighter for the Los Angeles Fire Department (and got in major legal trouble in 2015, when he and two other firefighters assaulted and very nearly killed a guy, but let's not get into that).

Chauncey Leopardi, however, does return as Michael "Squints" Palledorous, and as you can see, he looks virtually the same as an adult as he did when he was a kid, especially with those glasses. As the baseball commissioner and coach to the sandlot team, and owner of the local pharmacy (as the original film's epilogue said he became), Squints, while still underused, does have more of an active role in the story than Benny. Like him, he's initially put off by Tommy's attitude and knowing things he shouldn't be able to, but doesn't deny that he has talent. He's also the most vocal opposition towards Earl Needman's plan to bulldoze the sandlot for condominiums. He makes a passionate plea at a city council meeting, saying they would be destroying a piece of their history, as well as robbing future generations the opportunity to play ball there. Despite his plea, he's disappointed to learn that, each time the council has voted on the matter, they've reached a 50/50 split. Come the next meeting, when they're still at an impasse, Needman proposes that they let the outcome of the all-city championship determine the sandlot's fate. Squints is all for this, adding, "On one condition: the game for the sandlot, is played on the sandlot." Of course, unbeknownst to him, Needman has coerced Tommy into playing on his team. Following this, both he and Benny seem resigned to what's going to happen. As they get the sandlot ready for the big game, they reminisce about the good times they and the old gang used to have there (and you also learn that Squints and Wendy Peffercorn have had four of the nine kids they would ultimately have). Fortunately for them, Tommy decides to play for them in the end and they win the game.

Tommy's single mother, Sara (Sarah Deakins), most definitely serves as her son's rock. She's always there for him, looking after him after he first gets whacked in the head, taking him to the doctor when he keeps going on about his adult life in 2004, and encouraging him in everything he does. Like Smalls' mom in the first film, she wants her son to go out, have fun, and make some friends, and when he decides to play on the sandlot team for the all-city championship and asks her if she's, "Down with it," she answers, "Why you would possibly think I'd be down with it? I'm definitely up with it." Having been diagnosed with cancer, she tries to keep a brave face, insisting to her son that she's perfectly fine. But when the day of the big game comes, it's clear she's anything but fine, as she's now bedridden and getting progressively weaker. She's so bad that Tommy is reluctant to go, but Sara insists, telling him that she's proud of him and promising that she'll still be there when he gets back. While she is when he does return that evening after they've won, it seems as though she's just about to die. Before Tommy is forced to experience losing her again, though, he gets bonked on the head again, sending him back to the present and the nice, new life he now has. He then tells her that she was right about good things happening to good people.

Sadly, this film has, without a doubt, the least memorable bunch of kids who make up the sandlot team, with only a couple of them standing out. The majority are virtually interchangeable, especially in terms of personality, with their special skills being what makes them discernible from each other, and that's me being generous (it also doesn't help that, as you can see, at least three of these kids look virtually alike). D.P. (Cole Heppell), the catcher, often heckles those who bat in front of him, and he's also one of the 

guys who takes it especially hard whenever Tommy lets them down. Wings McKay (Ryan Drescher), the third baseman, is called that because, according to both Squints and Tommy, he has no second gear (and apparently, he got in trouble with the law later in his life). Timber (Kai James), the pitcher, is the tallest kid on the team and, while he has a good arm, he gets nervous when he faces a batter. This nervousness makes his pitches potentially dangerous, as during practice one time, he hits Wings right in the nuts, and 

when Benny sets up a bunch of mannequins to stand in for the batter, he smashes their heads! It's only when D.P. puts a picture of E.J.'s glaring face in his catcher's mitt that Timber is able to throw well. Quincy Washington (Meshach Peters), or "Q," as everyone calls him, as in "I.Q.," is a brainy outfielder who isn't much of a player due to his overly analytical mind. You often see him writing down problems and formulas, and during practice early on, he's trying to calculate wind-speed velocity rather than actually 

picking up the ball, like he's supposed to. To his credit, when everyone else has all but given up when Tommy goes to play on Needman's team, Q does try to get everybody to at least practice a little bit. You also see Q as an adult (Chris Shields) at the end, where he's a doctor at Cedars-Sinai, looking after Tommy (and according to Tommy, he's also a brilliant brain surgeon). Matt Wakamoto (Samuel Patrick Chu) and Rolando Alvarez (Renzo Carbonel), the team's respective second and first basemen, have the nickname of "Wok and Roll," as they play together 

really well but, when they're separated, they can't play to save their lives. They're only memorable as characters when they're together, as well, as they do play off each other fairly well. And, just like Ham in the first movie and Mac in the second, we have the fat kid, Two-Ton (Brandon Olds). Another outfielder, he's more reminiscent of Ham in that he has a short fuse and is obsessed with food. His teammates often call him fat, and according to Q, practice usually results in him chasing somebody around in order to pound them. The movies also has some humor at the 

expense of his obesity, like when they're practicing sliding to home-plate and he barely makes it, having to crawl the rest of the way. There's also some comedy that comes about from his flatulence (yeah, this is that kind of movie), particularly one moment where he breaks wind while the others are pushing him up through a window.

Besides Two-Ton, the most memorable member of the team is Ryan (Cainan Wiebe), a young left-fielder who hasn't spoken since the death of his father four years earlier. While he doesn't talk (at first, anyway), he has a very expressive face and eyes, and when he shows up at the diner where Tommy is having lunch, he knows exactly why Ryan is there. He says there's a lot going on in his life that he wouldn't understand, but the look on Ryan's face clearly says, "Try me." Tommy then tells him everything that's happened to him, as in every crazy detail, and while Ryan doesn't know what to make of some of his claims, he never derides him for it, either. In fact, when Tommy says he wants to spend as much time with his mother as possible, Ryan seems to understand, given what happened with his father. But when E.J. and other members of his team pick on Ryan, this leads to Tommy deciding to play just to take E.J. down a peg. Ryan is very thankful for this, and he and Tommy become pretty close. So, when Tommy decides to play on Needman's team for the deciding game in the all-city championship, Ryan is not only crushed but it inspires him to finally talk, telling Tommy, "Maybe you're the one who shouldn't speak for a while." He adds, "You play with us, teach us all this great stuff about baseball: being a team, playing together, and now you're gonna up and leave us?... You're a crock, man. We looked up to you. You made us feel for the game, and it showed. I thought we were showing you something, too." When Tommy snidely asks, "Yeah? What's that?", Ryan exclaims, "Friendship, dummy!", and rides off on his bike.

Still, as angry as he is at Tommy, before the game starts, Ryan does sincerely wish him good luck. Then, he shocks his entire team when he speaks to them for the first time, imploring them to stop feeling sorry for themselves and try to play as best as they can so they won't have to say goodbye to the sandlot. He adds, "Tommy taught us a lot about baseball skills. Instead of being mad at him, let's show him exactly what he failed to learn from us: how to play the game we love." (Another reason why I feel they should've had 

Tommy stay with Needman's team.) Ryan also proves to have something of an attitude, as when Two-Ton tries to interrupt him, he cuts him off and says, "Zip it, tubby! It's my turn to talk," and refers to the other team as a bunch of "butt-faces." But, of course, Tommy turns his back on Needman's team and rejoins the sandlot team, much to Ryan's appreciation. After they've won the game and Tommy has rushed home to be with his mother, Ryan follows him there to give him the game ball. He unintentionally whacks him in the head again, sending Tommy back into the present 

day. Like Q, Ryan is also there as an adult (Dean Hinchey), visiting him in the hospital and delivering that same ball to him. You also learn that he hosts a sports radio show. (Everyone else from the sandlot visits Tommy as well, but you don't see their faces as adults, only what they looked like as kids.)

Though plenty of the actors have their moments of comic relief, the one character whose sole function is to provide laughs is Two-Ton's uncle, Officer Pork Chop (Chris Gauthier), and yes, that's the only name given. He's basically an overweight Barney Fife, as he's all full of hot air and thinks he can handle any situation. The latter is what he strives to prevent, as whenever things start to boil over, he asks a variation of, "Are we gonna have a situation here?" He first shows up when the sandlot kids are standing around the unconscious Tommy and goes to give him mouth-to-mouth, only for Tommy to wake up, scream, and immediately scramble away. Later, when the kids sneak into the movie theater to talk to Tommy, Pork Chop (or "Uncle Chops," as Two-Ton calls him), after getting caught up in a very juvenile comedic situation that I'll elaborate on later, agrees to help them get past the guy at the concession stand, saying it's his night off. When the guy then chases the kids around the theater, Pork Chop hides among the audience and ignores yells for him to help. He's also one of Squints' biggest supporters when it comes to trying to save the sandlot, and is the one who encourages him to take up Needman's proposal that they play baseball for it. After the big game, Pork Chop has to make sure that the very angry Needman doesn't cause a "situation."

Over the course of these movies, we've gone from having no real antagonists in the first one, unless you want to count the Beast (and aside from the snobbish Little League team who challenges the sandlot team to a game and promptly get their butts kicked), to a temporary antagonist in the second one with Singleton, and finally to full-on antagonists here, with Earl Needman (Paul Jarrett) and his son, E.J. (Alexander Ludwig). Needman is the arrogant head of a realty company who is determined to bulldoze the sandlot and build some condominiums in its place. Though Squints, as baseball commissioner, is completely against this, Needman does what he can to convince the city council that there's no need for the sandlot, which he admits he used to play on as a kid as well. He proves to be a real skunk when, after convincing Tommy to play on his team, he gets everyone to agree to let the championship game's outcome decide the sandlot's fate. Seeing him as his secret weapon, Needman really pressures Tommy to play as best as he can come the big game, and is furious when he goes back to the sandlot team. 

As for E.J., he's just a bullying punk who, along with the other players on his team, pick on poor Ryan when he's leaving the diner early on. Tommy, who already hates him because he remembers what a dick he is, steps in and tells E.J. to leave Ryan alone, leading to them trading insults. E.J. then goes for a low blow when he brings up Sara's cancer, telling Tommy that at least his mother isn't sick. This prompts Tommy to play in the all-city championship just so he can have the pleasure of beating E.J. Even when he's momentarily on his team, E.J. treats Tommy like crap and is angry when, come the day of the big game, the coach from St. Agnus is more interested in him. It's clear that he acts the way he does because he desperately wants his dad's approval, and it comes to a head late in the big game, when Tommy is up to bat and E.J. is pitching. Needman tells E.J. to walk him, but E.J. is confident that he can strike Tommy out, as he knows his Achilles heel: he has trouble hitting an outside pitch. The two of them get into a heated conversation on the pitcher's mound, with E.J. defying his dad, yelling, "You always said a Needman never backs down from a fight! Yeah? Well, I'm not backin' down." Needman decides to let him do it, but threatens to destroy his new 10-speed if he loses. Though E.J. causes Tommy to miss two pitches, he hits a homer on the third, and E.J. is furious because he knows it means his 10-speed is going to the wood chipper. The game comes down to E.J. being up to bat, with Timber pitching, and he, again, tries to play on his weakness. Though he does hit a homer and arrogantly runs around the diamond, Tommy manages to catch the ball, winning the game for the sandlot.

Notably, the St. Agnus coach is played by former real-life baseball player John Kruk. When he shows up at the big game, Needman tries to talk up E.J., but the coach is more interested in Tommy, whom he's heard a lot about. He also says that he's heard a lot about E.J. as well, hinting that he knows about his not so great reputation both on and off the field. As the game goes on, the coach is clearly not impressed with how both Needman and his son act on the field, and at the end of the game, he's much more interested in Tommy, whom he says is going to be an all-star. Needman, again, tries to get him interested in E.J., saying, "He's quite the athlete, huh?", and the coach says, "I'm not lookin' for athletes, Earl. I'm lookin' for ballplayers, and I just found one." (I've read that was akin to something Kruk actually told an interviewer back when he was playing for the Phillies.)

Like The Sandlot 2, Heading Home was shot mostly up in British Columbia, specifically Vancouver in this case. I have to say, I don't quite get the feeling of it being a hot summer in the San Fernando Valley like I did with the second movie, even though this was shot during the summer, and some of the settings, like the exterior of Tommy's home, do have a more ocertly Canadian feel, but for the most part, it works well enough. The movie's visual aesthetic, however, is another matter. While the second movie did look similar to the first one, this one often has that generic,

shot on digital, overly color-corrected look that, you should know by now, I really hate. Some scenes look okay, mainly those that take place on the sandlot itself, but others, like in the doctor's office early on, in the theater, and in Mr. Mertle's old house, come off as so freaking cheap, and just a few notches above a lot of those low-rent, shot on digital movies made by amateur filmmakers. And like I said before, it sometimes seems as though the actors are standing in front of a green screen in scenes where there's no reason why they should be (like some angles on Pork

Chop standing in front of the theater concession stand). As far as direction goes, William Dear, like David Mickey Evans, doesn't get too showy. He does both start out the movie in an interesting way, with the opening of an episode of a fake Fox docu-series called Beyond The Glory, which is spotlighting Tommy's career and legacy, with interviews with people such as Benny Rodriguez. It has the look and feel you would expect from those types of shows, right down to the titles and editing. (I also noticed 

that some of the clips meant to be of Tommy's past during that documentary are reused from scenes that take place later in the movie.) Even the aspect ratio is different from the rest of the movie, which ends with the conclusion of said episode, which now depicts a completely different portrait of Tommy. Going back to the opening, when Tommy gets whacked in the head and falls to the ground, you see his POV shift from the two guys he was practicing with running to his aid, to the sandlot kids running in. This is 

followed in rapid succession by an overhead, rotating shot of him lying on the ground; some low-angle shots of the kids' faces as they stand over him (similar to a shot from the first movie), one of which slowly rotates; a nicely-framed shot of the kids' fingers all pointing at him; and a dramatic close-up of Pork Chop's mouth when he goes in to give Tommy mouth-to-mouth. There are several instances of such close-ups throughout the movie, like in Tommy's first confrontation with E.J., and when they're staring each

other down during the big game. Speaking of which, the montages of the practice sessions and the ballgames themselves are well put together, with the big game managing to come off as quite exciting and energetic as a result.

Where I think Dear runs into trouble, though, is when he gets carried away with low budget, digital methods of editing and augmenting scenes. Some of it's nice, like a close-up of a rotary phone transitioning to that of a lollipop, which Dr. Parker tries to placate Tommy with, much to his chagrin. However, one that I really hate is when Tommy has a dream about when Judy left him because he agreed to go play for the New York Yankees. The whole scene is shot in this overexposed manner, with a very wavy frame-rate and echoing voices, i.e. the most stereotypical way to

visualize a memory and/or dream (the really bad acting from Judy and Tommy's agent in this scene don't help, either). And at the end of the movie, when the old gang shows up to see Tommy in his hospital room, Dear decides to not let you see what they look like as adults, instead showing a similarly overexposed image of them as kids. Like the movie's overall look and the bad instances of digital visual effects, which we'll talk about, it's not pleasant to look at.

As far as the actual locations go, the sandlot itself, thankfully, fares the best. While not an exact match, as it has some minute differences, mainly around the edges, it's similar enough to the original where you can buy it as the same place, with the dugout and Mr. Mertle's old house behind the fence on one side of the field. We do see more of the town and the suburban neighborhood than we did in the second movie, with spots like Tommy's house, city hall, the theater, the small diner, and the streets, where the kids are often seen either walking or bicycling down the sidewalks. We see some other baseball fields during the championship games, but what's most notable is that the movie's opening was actually shot, at least partially, at Dodgers Stadium.

Like the visual aesthetic, the interiors are where the movie's cheapness sometimes becomes apparent. While the interiors of Tommy's house look okay, with the design of the furniture and walls coming off like a home from the 70's (maybe trying a little too hard, though), and so does the diner, the other interiors are rather bland. The town hall is fine, if a bit sparse on the art direction, and the same goes for the doctor's office, but the theater? It looks so cheap, from the restrooms (which have posters in them, for some reason, and in frames that are too big for them) to the

lobby, where the only posters are for Young Frankenstein (and a couple for The Rocky Horror Picture Show), the concession stand, and especially the actual theater. Even for such a place in a little town, the latter looks like a hilariously small room, which they appear to be trying to hide with the low lighting and flickering of the projection beam (seriously, my town, for years, had a theater that they made out of an abandoned high school, and that was more impressive than this). In fact, this place reminds me a lot of that room in the school in the first movie where those kids were watching The Wolf Man, with how confined it feels and how awkward the seats look. 

But the worst setting for me personally is how they turned Mr. Mertle's home into basically the Haunted Mansion ride, both inside and out. When the kids go there one night, there are constant flashes of lightning, an iron gate in front, spooky fog over the lawn, and the house itself looks much more rundown and creepy than it ever did before. They also find Hercules, or the Beast's, doghouse, with a big bone sticking in the ground in front of it. You don't get an explanation for what happened to Mr. Mertle, with D.P. saying that no one's sure if he died or just left 

one day (my guess is that being in the second one was more than enough for James Earl Jones). Regardless, the inside of his house is the cliched dark, cobweb-filled, creepy place that looks as it's haunted, with boarded up windows, bats hanging from the ceiling down in the basement, and weird old junk down there. As if that weren't enough, it's also full of a bunch of Indiana Jones-like traps and Rube Goldberg contraptions that the kids unwittingly activate, including one involving a baseball that's bigger than a 

person, with a big, stupid smile on its face and a red, clown-like nose. Yes, when you watch the first two movies, you can see that Mr. Mertle had some bizarre and, in some cases, disturbing things littering his yard, but this big ball serves no purpose other than as part of a gag at the end of the scene. And the baseball that they use in the games is one that Tommy finds hidden in a hole in the wall, which he, again, comes across in an Indiana Jones-like manner. It also doesn't 

help that this scene is where the movie looks the cheapest in terms of the cinematography and color-correction, combined with the after-school special level of production design. It's also just a bunch of unfunny cringe in and of itself, which I'll get to later.

I already mentioned the digital editing that the movie sometimes makes use of, but just as crappy-looking are the sporadic instances of visual effects. In some ways, they betray the cheapness even more than the editing or production design. Visual effects are mainly used for the instances where Tommy is blinded by fireworks and gets hit in the head by a baseball, both at the beginning and near the end. Both of these shots look awful, but I think the one at the beginning fares the worst because of how blatant the digital fireworks, baseball, flashes on Tommy, and

green screen work all are. However, the one at the end has another bad CGI ball that flies up into the air, is framed against the fireworks up in the sky, and then comes down and hits Tommy in the forehead. There's also one shot of the exterior of Tommy's house with a poor-looking digital thunderstorm in the sky above it. And when Wok sees the bats up in the ceiling in the basement of Mr. Mertle's house, you see some digital, glowing red eyes that are onscreen so briefly and are so dull that you could actually miss them.

While another period piece like the first two movies, since our protagonist here is technically a time-traveler, this one leans a bit more into it. It mostly comes from Tommy referencing technology and events that won't come about until far into the future, as well as his occasional use of modern slang, much to the confusion of those around him. It also comes about from his slowly realizing during the first act that he's back in 1976 (which takes a bit longer than it should), as he sees a banner for the upcoming bicentennial, all the cars and clothes styles from the 

era, sales on stuff like 8-track players, and gas being as cheap as 59 cents a gallon. Some references that I do genuinely like are when he's wearing his old Speed Racer pajamas, as I have my own fond childhood memories of that show, and when he tells the waitress at the diner, who's wearing a "RE-ELECT FORD" button, that Jimmy Carter is going to win the election that fall. However, like I said about the art direction of Tommy's home, it sometimes feels like they're trying a little too hard to make it feel like the 70's in

terms of the fashion and furniture. And, this is just me being a complete movie nerd, but Young Frankenstein was released in 1974, and The Rocky Horror Picture Show, which has a "COMING SOON" poster in the theater lobby, was '75. Granted, since this was right before the idea of mega-releases across the country, and it's a small town, you could say they're just now getting them, but that stuck out at me. (Plus, I think the only reason why they were put in there to begin with is because they're both Fox movies from the period.)

Like with The Sandlot 2, I'm very mixed on the comedy here. Again, I don't mind some of the humor that comes from the kids' personalities and quirks, like Tommy's inflated ego and initial bewilderment at what's happened to him, as well as how he tends to confuse the others; Two-Ton's short fuse and his especially becoming enraged when the others make fun of his weight; Q's tendency to over-analyze everything, Wok and Roll's playing off each other;, and how dangerous Timber's pitching can be when he's nervous. Like the previous movies, we have

another exchange of juvenile insults, this time between Tommy and E.J., although Tommy's personality does add a new spin on it. "I don't need them [the sandlot gang] to take you on, E.J." "You'll need anything you can get your hands on, Santa-Smelly." "Okay, look, I'm not gonna get into this sophomoric, name-calling contest with a kid. Franky, it's beneath me." "Well, maybe it's because you're a lameoid loser, with pimple breath." "That's an intelligent comeback. Got anymore, Einstein? Or is that all your pea brain is capable of?" "You know, you

should spend more time workin' on your baseball practice than your weak insults." "Insulting you isn't work... It comes pretty easy." "Dog-face. Turd-mouth. Rotten-faced bonehead." "Ignorant, pathetic sociopath-in-training." "At least my girlfriend doesn't wear a collar." "I heard your girlfriend got kicked out of an ugly contest because they said no professionals allowed." "Now, is it true that your mother smacked the doctor when you were born?" E.J. then imitates a rim shot, when Tommy comes back with, "Oh,

speaking of mothers, do you guys need another player? 'Cause my mom plays ball pretty good, and she's better than all you fools." E.J. is so irked by that remark he, initially, has nothing to come back with, and Tommy mocks him for it. But then, he makes fun of Sara's cancer, which genuinely enrages Tommy and makes him threaten to hurt E.J., something we haven't seen before in these movies but which can definitely happen in such confrontations. Some of the humor is a bit predictable and wearing thin at this point, 

though, like the fat kid's obsession with food and his taking advantage of certain situations to get more of it, but I can deal with it. There's one cartoony bit where, when they give Timber a picture of E.J. as a target and he pitches the ball, the expression on the picture's face briefly goes from a glare to one of horror. While I didn't care for stuff like that in the previous movie, given this one's more fantastical nature, I can go with it a bit more. And there's some 

meta humor here and there, like when they see Hercules' doghouse and Wok says, "It was probably just some chihuahua or something. You know how people name their dog just the opposite of what they are." (That would've been fine, but then they notice the big bone sticking in the ground and Roll adds, "That must have been a grande chihuahua, man," making it less effective.) And during the climax, as Tommy explains why he abandoned them for Needman's team, D.P. remarks, "This isn't the part where you go off about the Dodgers, the Hall of Fame, and your smokin' hot girlfriends, is it?" Tommy then says, "No. This is the part where I throw that all away to do what's right."

There's a lot more crude humor in this film than in the previous ones combined. Less than ten minutes in, Two-Ton has suggested that they kick the unconscious Tommy in the nuts to make sure he's really out, and Tommy has nearly gotten mouth-to-mouth from Officer Pork Chop, with his big mouth coming right at the camera, as if he's going to eat it, accompanied by the sound of a pig snorting. Speaking of hitting someone in the nuts, when Tommy is trying to help the team get into playing shape, Timber pitches and hits Wings, who just said, "Just try to hit

my bat, okay?" As he collapses to the ground, grasping his family jewels, he groans, "Wrong bat, Timer," then his voice gets really high and he declares, "Timber, if I live, you're dead!" Two-Ton adds, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm gettin' a cup." Speaking of Two-Ton, the raunchiest and most juvenile humor comes from him. Not only does he have flatulence issues, exploding right in the others' faces when they're trying to push him up through a window (D.P. yells, "Augh! He got me with my mouth open!"), but this is one part of the most low-

brow routine in any of these movies. The guys, trying to sneak into the movie theater to talk to Tommy, are climbing through the restroom window, unaware that Pork Chop is in one of the stalls. Hearing Two-Ton groaning and seeing the wall vibrate from his girth as he's climbing in, Pork Chop thinks that somebody in the next stall is having trouble dropping a load. After Two-Ton farts, exclaiming, "Oh, I knew I shouldn't have had that last cheeseburger!", Pork Chop says, "Sometimes, you gotta wait five minutes." Hearing a

bunch of straining and grunting, he then starts trying to help this "person" do their business, giving them suggestions like, "Just relax, and let it come out," and, "What I do is I count backwards." He proceeds to start counting backwards, while Two-Ton keeps on groaning and moaning, and right after Pork Chop gets to one, Two-Ton's foot goes right into the toilet with a loud splash. Having heard this, Pork Chop goes, "That's it! I bet you feel better already!" Two-Ton pulls his foot out and everybody else starts climbing

in, causing a lot more noise as they clamor over each other. Hearing the clattering and seeing the wall shake more violently, Pork Chop asks, "Did you want to borrow some T.P.?" The sequence finally ends, with everyone spilling out of the stall and into the restroom. As much as I was rolling my eyes at this and a later moment when Two-Ton shoves a bunch of jaw-breakers in his mouth, I'm just glad they didn't have a moment similar to the previous two movies, where one of the boys does something pervy towards a woman.

In terms of comedy, there are two scenes in particular that I find hard to take. One is when, following that scene in the restroom, Pork Chop helps the kids sneak into the actual theater. He goes to the concession stand and distracts the guy working there, Casper, by asking for various snacks, then motioning for the kids to go in when he's distracted. However, they have to go in one at a time, so Pork Chop has to keep asking for more and more stuff, and also has to use the hat on his head to block Casper's view when he tries to look around him. During this, Two-Ton takes the

opportunity to crawl behind Pork Chop and tell him to ask for some Goobers, before he crawls on into the theater. Inside, the kids get Tommy's attention, then annoyingly crowd around him and his mother, with Two-Ton reaching in and scooping a handful out of their popcorn bucket. Much to Tommy's aggravation, he has to get up and talk with them near the entrance, missing his favorite part of Young Frankenstein. As they're then trying to convince him to play on their team, Two-Ton suddenly gets in his face and says, in a threatening manner, "Tommy, I'm only gonna ask

you this once, so I want you to be completely honest with me, okay?" Tommy nods and says, "Mm-hmm," and Two-Ton asks, "Can you spot me 25 cents for some Goobers?" Just as they all roll their eyes and jeer at him for this, Casper walks in, now acting as the usher. The guys try to say that they're with Tommy, and he, in turn, distracts Casper so they can run. This leads into a poor chase scene throughout the theater, with Casper pursuing them among the seats, all while a Keystone Cops-style piece of music plays on the

soundtrack. Casper also calls for Pork Chop's help, but he hides among the audience, taking his hat off so he can't be recognized. Trust me, it's not nearly as energetic or funny as you might think, and when the kids run out of the theater, they have to pull Two-Ton out the front door, as he walks over to the concession stand like the Frankenstein monster, saying, "Goobers. Goobers." Casper manages to catch D.P. as he's straggling behind, but Tommy, again, comes to

the rescue, distracting Casper by saying he found his tickets. Looking at them, Casper notes that there are only two tickets, asking, "What about all the other guys?", and Tommy asks, "What other guys?", noting that the others are gone. As Casper looks at the empty lobby, confused, Tommy rejoins his mother inside.

But the scene I dislike the most is the one at Mr. Mertle's old house. Besides looking like crap and the house so cliche in its presentation, the gags in this sequence range from just unfunny and predictable to downright stupid. They walk up to the front door and try to decide who should go in first, only for a snarling dog face to appear in the window. This scares the crap out of everyone, with Tommy literally jumping into Two-Ton's arms, but it turns out to be Ryan, who sneaked in while they were arguing and just happened to find a chunk of wood with that

painted on it. Once inside, they split up, with Tommy, Wings, and Q going upstairs and coming across what seems to be a humanoid figure with a sheet over it. But after they get over their fright and remove the sheet, it turns out to be that giant baseball. As they're processing this D.P. comes up behind them and scares them, much to their annoyance. And when he notices the ball, they have to have him repeat the line about how it's a "big baseball." Wok and Roll go down into the basement and do the old cliche of backing into each other, making them both jump. Wok then checks 

in a corner of the room, only to look up and see some red eyes watching him from the shadows up near the ceiling. That leads to this exchange between him and Roll: "Bats!" "Baseball bats?" "No! Bat bats!" They then run out of there, with the bats flying after them, which is a pathetic effect, as it looks like they took a bunch of Styrofoam chunks that only vaguely look like bats and flung them at the kids. While Tommy and his group are still looking around on the second floor, Wok and Roll join the others on the first. And 

because that exchange from a few seconds ago was "so funny," they have to repeat it when Wok and Roll tell them that there's nothing down in the basement but bats. Just as they're about to leave, Tommy steps on a loose board, which somehow causes one of the boards on a nearby window to fall loose. Moonlight shines through a hole in it, illuminating a baseball cap hanging on the wall, which Tommy takes and wears. He uncovers a large hole in the wall behind it, and they use the flashlight to see find there's an old 

baseball inside. Tommy takes it and, just as he wonders aloud why it would be left in such an obvious place, the little podium it was sitting on in there lowers down. (Not only is that straight out of Raiders of the Lost Ark, but Tommy also steals the repeated line from Star Wars of, "I've got a bad feeling about this, guys.")

This activates a series of random "booby-traps" and Rube Goldberg contraptions that, conveniently, give them the equipment they need. A bunch of baseball bats fall at their feet; Two-Ton gets a cobweb-covered catcher's mitt in his face, propelled from out of the wall by one of those old-fashioned, extendable arms; Timber opens a door and activates a machine that fires baseballs at them, with the balls literally rolling down into it from up in the ceiling; Ryan gets smacked repeatedly in the face by a whirling contraption that has catcher's mitts attached to its

arms; and a door closes in front of them with a dummy attached to its back that has a mask and padding on it. All of this craziness has them flailing around in a panic, and they run downstairs and out the door, except for Tommy. Seeing the baseball at the top of the stairs, he goes up there and grabs it, when that giant baseball suddenly appears around the corner and rolls down the stairs towards him. It forces him to turn and jump out the door, letting out a Wilhelm scream as he does, and the others stand there staring 

at the ball, with Q, for the third time, having to comment on how big it is. And during this whole sequence, the song Ballroom Blitz plays on the soundtrack. As I was watching it, I was wishing it would end, as it was just so bad.

Overall, though, when it comes to unnecessary, direct-to-video sequels, The Sandlot did luck out, as I don't think either of these follow-ups are unforgivably bad. And as I said in the introduction, between the two of them, I'd much rather take Heading Home over The Sandlot 2. Neither of them are great, but I'd rather watch a movie that's doing its own thing, than one that's rehashing the original, with the only difference being in some specific details. While bringing a kind of time-travel concept into this franchise seems like an awful idea, the way it's done

is acceptable enough, and I like how, just as in Groundhog Day, they leave its exact nature a mystery, with only hints as to what may have caused it. But, as much as I applaud them for trying something different, like its predecessor, Heading Home serves as another example as to why The Sandlot did not need any sequels to begin with. The appeal of that original movie was how it was a slice-of-life story, mostly focusing on the day-to-day experiences of this group of neighborhood kids over 

the course of the summer of 1962. There was a through-line in the story, sure, with Smalls being the new kid trying to fit in, as well as trying to get close to his new stepfather, Bill, and the third act had a major subplot and climax, with them trying to retrieve Bill's autographed baseball from the Beast, but for the most part, that episodic, day-to-day approach is not only what made it endearing but relatable. And even though I hated how unoriginal it was overall, The Sandlot 2 also managed to give me a bit of that same 

nostalgia for summertime when I was a kid as the original; Heading Home doesn't have that same appeal. The more fantastical elements and the presence of a concrete central plot make it impossible. It's nice that they not only didn't copy the original story again but put in themes such as loyalty and dealing with the loss of a loved one when you're still fairly young to, at least, try to give it more dramatic weight, but that's not what The Sandlot was about.

When Siskel and Ebert reviewed the original, they talked about how they liked that the movie didn't get bogged down, "In a lot of dumb plot-points." Specifically, they mentioned how they were relieved when it didn't go the cliched route of climaxing with the boys winning some big game (in fact, it makes you think that's going to become a subplot when the Little League team challenges them, only to completely subvert expectations). Well, guess what Heading Home's main plot quickly becomes? Not only that, but it goes for the tried and true scenario of 

the game's outcome deciding something major; in this case, the very fate of the sandlot itself. And it also hits just about every expected beat. The opposing team is made up of and coached by a bunch of bullies? Check. Some training montages show the scrappy team's improvement? Check. Another montage shows them trouncing other teams in order to face the antagonistic team in the finals? Check. Tommy realizes that playing on the other team isn't as fun and decides to do the right thing before the game begins? 

Check. The final game consists of the sandlot team smoking their opponents, only for the deciding point to come down to a major standoff that they may lose? Yep. And Tommy is the one who makes the winning catch? Yes, sir. (The only thing it doesn't do is have the winning play come down between Tommy and E.J., as you might expect.) Combined with the foregone conclusion that they are going to win, the unsatisfying wrap-up to Tommy's character arc, and the over-simplistic moral of "good things happen to good people," it makes for a story that, while unique in this franchise, is still very unoriginal in the long run.

Again, the big game consists mostly of the sandlot team tromping Needman's team in various ways: Tommy hits a homer when E.J. pitches at him; Two-Ton manages to run and slide towards a base; Timber pitches and the batter hits it, only for Two-Ton to nearly kill himself trying to catch it, slamming against a garbage can and getting a wooden crate stuck on his head (he does get the ball, though); D.P. and Wok tag a guy out, one of many the team tags out throughout the game; one catcher on Needman's team falls over himself trying to catch a ball; Wings pretends to faint

in front of one guy, distracting him long enough for Q to tag him out; and so on. And then, it comes down to Tommy and E.J., as they bat and pitch respectively. This is when E.J. argues with his father to let him strike Tommy out rather than walk him, and Needman threatens to throw his new 10-speed into the wood chipper if he loses. He manages to throw two pitches that Tommy misses, but when he goes for the third, Tommy hits a foul ball  He and E.J. then stare each other down, with E.J. snarking, "You're outta here,"

and Tommy retorting, "So is this next pitch." And, naturally, when E.J. pitches, Tommy hits a homer. He takes off and runs around the diamond, showing out in front of Needman to annoy him, while E.J. flings his cap onto the ground and yells, "I love that 10-speed!" 

With that, they only need three more outs to win the game, and Tommy opts to use the ball they got at Mr. Mertle's house for luck. Catching behind the batter, D.P. distracts him by saying, "Hey, batter. You got some... 'sup on your shoe." The kid asks, "What's 'sup?", and D.P. responds, "Oh, I-I don't know. What's up with you?" That strikes the kid out and he angrily goes back over to his team, arguing with them. Timber then very easily strikes out the next guy up to bat. But then, he has to go up against E.J., who decides to bat on the catcher's left, knowing it'll make 

Timber nervous. Timber pitches and fouls off the ball (a runner then advances a base, which I know you're not allowed to do on a foul). He tosses the next pitch but E.J. hits it. As it heads for home, E.J. starts running the bases, while Tommy rushes to try to catch it. Timber thinks he blew it, and Tommy reaches the fence, seemingly unable to go any farther. That's when he jumps against it, it bends over, and flings him through the air on the recoil. He slams hard on the ground and is seemingly knocked out, as

Needman's team cheers. But then, he opens his glove to reveal that he caught the ball and shows it to everyone, mirroring how he originally won the game for Needman's team. The crowd cheers, Needman and E.J. argue with the umpire, and Tommy is embraced and celebrated by his team. Needman flings his cap, and hairpiece, to the ground and stomps it, when Officer Pork Chop, who's been one of the team's biggest cheerers this whole time, walks up and asks him if there's going to be a "situation."

The music score by Kendall Marsh (looking at his resume on IMDB, he hasn't done much else of note) is hardly one of its best aspects, and is pretty generic of this kind of movie. It has this bland, inspirational type of them for the opening documentary, which becomes part of the actual score later on, particularly at the end, when Tommy wins the game and does better for himself; that Keystone Cops-style piece for the movie theater sequence that even ends with a clownish "honk, honk" sound; and a lot of bluesy, hick-like sounds played on a harmonica. Some of the softer, more emotional bits of music for the moments between Tommy and his mother are okay but, otherwise, there's not much to say about the score. As with the previous movies, there are some more memorable songs to be heard on the soundtrack, like Sun Shining by Richard Heyman when Tommy first follows the kids to the sandlot; the aforementioned Ballroom Blitz by The Sweet during the latter part of the scene at Mr. Mertle's, In The Summertime by Ray Dorset during the team's practice montage, and Centerfield by John Fogerty, which is the best song here by far, and plays during the first part of the big game.

Like its immediate predecessor, The Sandlot: Heading Home may be unnecessary but, fortunately, it doesn't sully the reputation of the classic that spawned it. In fact, it's something of an improvement on the second film, in that it tells its own story rather than simply redoing the original while changing some stuff around, and manages to successfully implement a concept that could've easily been disastrous for this franchise. It also tries to give the story some dramatic weight; like the second film, despite being shot in Canada, it manages to create the illusion of it taking place in the San Fernando Valley well enough; it plays with its period setting just a little more than the others; and there are some fine songs on the soundtrack. But, at the end of the day, this is a woefully cheap-looking flick in terms of its visual style, production design, digital editing, and visual effects, with actors that are okay but have nothing on the kids in the original, some legacy characters that aren't utilized the best, a lot of humor and comedic sequences that don't land, a lackluster music score overall, a story that goes down a predictable route, and a character arc that doesn't pay off in the most effective way possible. But most of all, it misses the point of what The Sandlot was meant to be in the first place, and further highlights why it should be left alone. It's harmless enough, but now that I've done these reviews, I don't see myself watching it or The Sandlot 2 ever again.