# Legend of Bagger Vance, The (2000)

### reviewed by
Mark O'Hara

    The Legend of Bagger Vance (2000)

For fans of golf – or any sport, for that matter – THE LEGEND OF BAGGER VANCE will capture the interest if not the imagination. The philosophy spouted by the caddy Bagger Vance (Will Smith) frequently goes too far, but sport has always been a metaphor for life and the pursuits inherent in life. And certainly the golf exhibition match at the center of the narrative is one of the best things about the film.

Based on Steven Pressfield's novel, THE LEGEND OF BAGGER VANCE chronicles the attempt of an erstwhile rich Southern belle, Adele Invergordon (Charlize Theron), to save her dead father's golf resort from the ravages of the Great Depression. A cadre of rich Savannah businessmen wish to purchase the resort for a song, but Adele thinks on her feet of an exhibition she hopes will attract the star golfers of the time – Bruce McGill as Walter Hagen, and Joel Gretsch as Bobby Jones. Hoping in a small way to thwart her, the men call for the involvement of a third golfer, someone local. After a few names are passed over, a young golf fanatic named Hardy Greaves (J. Michael Montcrief) suggests `Captain Junuh.' This man Rannulph Junuh (Matt Damon) is the one we see near the film's start; he's racing into the slaughter of a World War One battle, where it seems he is the sole survivor. To be brief, Junuh loses himself. Traumatized, he disappears for a decade, failing to return to Adele, who happens to be his intended. After several scenes during which Hardy and Adele attempt to convince the down-and-out Junuh to play in the match, perhaps even to recapture the position he won as a young man – the best golfer in the South – Junuh decides to give it a swing.

So the stage is set for the two-day exhibition, $10,000 for the prize, with the bigger stake being, of course, Junuh's soul.

Will Smith nicely underplays the mysterious caddy of the film's title. Vance appears suddenly and speaks with such nonchalance and self-assurance that Junuh hires him without knowing anything of his background. Though the rhetoric he spreads is sometimes pure corn, Smith is able to keep his character likable if not believable. A problem with the title character is that he is too much without a history, and we never know him well enough to view him as a real human. On the other hand, director Robert Redford and screenwriter Jeremy Leven never elevate him into the realm of magic; Bagger is apparently not some genie sidekick that has no life aside from the wishes of his master.

At the heart of the argument that this film is mediocre is its failure to create a spirit of enthusiasm and magic. I have seen THE NATURAL – starring Redford, by the way, as Roy Hobbs – and THE LEGEND OF BAGGER VANCE is no THE NATURAL. Yes, Redford was older and more experienced than Matt Damon when Redford played the main character in Bernard Malamud's mythic baseball opus. But Damon often seems plastic in this role. Is he trying too hard to portray a man shell-shocked out of his former easy manner? Does his trouble result from playing opposite Theron as Adele: a good actress herself trapped with an underdeveloped character? It's hard to tell. But clearly the film lacks the several enchanting moments that a sports drama needs to succeed.

Bruce McGill is good as the semi-slimy Walter Hagen, a spoiled sports figure ahead of his time. Further, the handsome Joel Gretsch is very convincing as the Renaissance man Bobby Jones, his determination clear in his glare. And a nice discovery is J. Michael Montcrief as Hardy Greaves, the young narrator. Hardy supplies both comic relief and the innocence necessary to make the golf-as-way-of-life hokum even a little believable. Jack Lemon is Hardy as a senior golfer, who opens and closes the film; too bad Lemon is underused in the frame, though his voice is welcome in many parts of the long story.

Cinematography is strong in THE LEGEND OF BAGGER VANCE. The exteriors are beautiful, the golf course, the woods, even the haze of the battlefield in the brief warfare scenes. A couple of shots smack of computer generation, as when we assume the viewpoint of Junuh's golf ball as it sails toward the green. And I could swear the bank of a lake looked plastic and unnatural as well. These vantages are not bad, but neither do they make more convincing the events that the story tries so hard to make astounding.

In the end the film is mildly satisfying, and would be a nice choice for a rental. As a sports movie I would place it on a par with another athletic flick out now, REMEMBER THE TITANS, and well ahead of Keven Costner's baseball debacle, FOR LOVE OF THE GAME.

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