Arts & Literature
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The Church of Baseball: The Making of Bull Durham: Home Runs, Bad Calls, Crazy Fights, Big Swings, and a Hit
From the award-winning screenwriter and director of cult classic Bull Durham, the extremely entertaining behind-the-scenes story of the making of the film, and an insightful primer on the art and business of moviemaking.
"This book tells you how to make a movie-the whole nine innings of it-out of nothing but sheer will." -Tony Gilroy, writer/director of Michael Clayton and The Bourne Legacy
"The only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the church of baseball." -Annie in Bull Durham
Bull Durham, the breakthrough 1988 film about a minor league baseball team, is widely revered as the best sports movie of all time. But back in 1987, Ron Shelton was a first-time director and no one was willing to finance a movie about baseball-especially a story set in the minors. The jury was still out on Kevin Costner's leading-man potential, while Susan Sarandon was already a has-been. There were doubts. But something miraculous happened, and The Church of Baseball attempts to capture why.
From organizing a baseball camp for the actors and rewriting key scenes while on set, to dealing with a short production schedule and overcoming the challenge of filming the sport, Shelton brings to life the making of this beloved American movie. Shelton explains the rarely revealed ins and outs of moviemaking, from a film's inception and financing, screenwriting, casting, the nuts and bolts of directing, the postproduction process, and even through its release. But this is also a book about baseball and its singular romance in the world of sports. Shelton spent six years in the minor leagues before making this film, and his experiences resonate throughout this book.
Full of wry humor and insight, The Church of Baseball tells the remarkable story behind an iconic film.
"This book tells you how to make a movie-the whole nine innings of it-out of nothing but sheer will." -Tony Gilroy, writer/director of Michael Clayton and The Bourne Legacy
"The only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the church of baseball." -Annie in Bull Durham
Bull Durham, the breakthrough 1988 film about a minor league baseball team, is widely revered as the best sports movie of all time. But back in 1987, Ron Shelton was a first-time director and no one was willing to finance a movie about baseball-especially a story set in the minors. The jury was still out on Kevin Costner's leading-man potential, while Susan Sarandon was already a has-been. There were doubts. But something miraculous happened, and The Church of Baseball attempts to capture why.
From organizing a baseball camp for the actors and rewriting key scenes while on set, to dealing with a short production schedule and overcoming the challenge of filming the sport, Shelton brings to life the making of this beloved American movie. Shelton explains the rarely revealed ins and outs of moviemaking, from a film's inception and financing, screenwriting, casting, the nuts and bolts of directing, the postproduction process, and even through its release. But this is also a book about baseball and its singular romance in the world of sports. Shelton spent six years in the minor leagues before making this film, and his experiences resonate throughout this book.
Full of wry humor and insight, The Church of Baseball tells the remarkable story behind an iconic film.
Editorial Reviews
"The Church of Baseball: The Making of Bull Durham is a fraught, rollicking and gossipy romp through the funny-in-retrospect ordeal of fighting for a cinematic project that seemed as unlikely to succeed as a Class A shortstop making it to the Show." --Elizabeth Nelson,The Wall Street Journal
"...a reflective, first-person account of how he conceived the characters and story and then managed to bring it to life as a first-time film director. Shelton takes readers through the writing of the script in detail, highlighting his aims in each scene. That's followed by his selling the script to a studio, with himself attached as a neophyte director, and then hiring a crew, casting and shooting the movie, and navigating the editing process. The entire tale is colored by his continual clashes with studio executives on the oddest things imaginable....Told purely from the creator's perspective, this book is a lively, witty master class in screenwriting and film direction, much in the cheeky spirit of Bull Durham. VERDICT Highly entertaining and informative look at a popular film classic, this book should find wide interest among film and sports buffs." --John Maxymuk; starred Library Journal review
"‘Bull Durham' fans, rejoice at ‘Church of Baseball… Shelton's breezy behind-the-scenes recap." --Douglass K. Daniel, AP News
"Ron Shelton hears America singing, schmoozing, and swearing. His writing-directing debut, Bull Durham (1988), transported fans into the offbeat mystique and comic muck of baseball…Shelton's new memoir, The Church of Baseball, does for filmmaking what Bull Durham did for the national pastime: it demystifies the craft, pillories the business, and celebrates the calling with wit and passion…Shelton's prose is as natural as his dialogue, and he conjures characters with casual mastery…The book takes us inside his screenwriting process as his characters emerge with distinct voices and signature first lines…In The Church of Baseball, as in Bull Durham, Shelton riffs on life in the American grain, and scales the heights of the homegrown surreal. Like Mark Twain, he reveals an unsentimental education that reads like a robust and impudent yarn." --Michael Sragow, Air Mail
"Rookie of the Year. A brilliant first book details the author's first movie, BULL DURHAM...At age 76, Ron Shelton has written his first book, and the biggest question upon reading it is, What took him so long?
"...a reflective, first-person account of how he conceived the characters and story and then managed to bring it to life as a first-time film director. Shelton takes readers through the writing of the script in detail, highlighting his aims in each scene. That's followed by his selling the script to a studio, with himself attached as a neophyte director, and then hiring a crew, casting and shooting the movie, and navigating the editing process. The entire tale is colored by his continual clashes with studio executives on the oddest things imaginable....Told purely from the creator's perspective, this book is a lively, witty master class in screenwriting and film direction, much in the cheeky spirit of Bull Durham. VERDICT Highly entertaining and informative look at a popular film classic, this book should find wide interest among film and sports buffs." --John Maxymuk; starred Library Journal review
"‘Bull Durham' fans, rejoice at ‘Church of Baseball… Shelton's breezy behind-the-scenes recap." --Douglass K. Daniel, AP News
"Ron Shelton hears America singing, schmoozing, and swearing. His writing-directing debut, Bull Durham (1988), transported fans into the offbeat mystique and comic muck of baseball…Shelton's new memoir, The Church of Baseball, does for filmmaking what Bull Durham did for the national pastime: it demystifies the craft, pillories the business, and celebrates the calling with wit and passion…Shelton's prose is as natural as his dialogue, and he conjures characters with casual mastery…The book takes us inside his screenwriting process as his characters emerge with distinct voices and signature first lines…In The Church of Baseball, as in Bull Durham, Shelton riffs on life in the American grain, and scales the heights of the homegrown surreal. Like Mark Twain, he reveals an unsentimental education that reads like a robust and impudent yarn." --Michael Sragow, Air Mail
"Rookie of the Year. A brilliant first book details the author's first movie, BULL DURHAM...At age 76, Ron Shelton has written his first book, and the biggest question upon reading it is, What took him so long?
Readers Top Reviews
Foothiller16
I was thinking a five star rating until the last few chanpters--the author seemed to lose the grace of book in that he protested too much. I got the complaints early on -- he just seemed to wear them to the bone. But it is full of nice insights into making the movie. Learned quite a bit about the cast, dialouge and plot -- even though the author said his movie had no plot. The movie deserves to he the AFI's best sports movie.
RTM
Ron Shelton, the writer/director of the classic 1988 film "Bull Durham" gives readers the fascinating story about how this film was created and made, despite daunting obstacles. The movie seemed financially risky at the time, with an offbeat story about life, baseball, and romance, with no "bankable" actors, and set in a small Southern city. Shelton first discusses his background as a minor league baseball player, and aspiring screenwriter, among various other occupations. Most of the first half of the book, however, describes how Shelton slowly developed the original story ideas, and created the script for Bull Durham. Shelton then faced difficulties getting the actors he wanted, and financing to make the film. Even after filming began, an ongoing series of frustrating problems had to be overcome. Reading this part of the book gave me a insight into how difficult making a film can be. Overall, I really enjoyed reading this book, which is written in a humorous style, but with plenty of hard earned wisdom. I was rooting all the way for Shelton to succeed, even knowing that Bull Durham would become a memorable film about baseball, America, and life.
Rick Shaq Goldstein
Bull Durham is one of the best baseball movies post “Pride of the Yankees”… and the horrendous “Babe Ruth Story” starring William Bendix. My personal all-time favorite is “FIELD OF DREAMS”… which to any true blue old-school baseball lover… is complete poetry from start to finish… not to mention the most supporting and dream wife in history… Annie! Whereas “FIELD OF DREAMS” is leather and horsehide… Father and Son heavenly lyrics… “BULL DURHAM”… is a more satirical… at an arm’s length tribute to minor league baseball. (A mere coincidence is the name of one of the main Durham characters who is a “slutty” philosophical rambling love interest and outcome influencer also named Annie!) The writer and director of “Bull Durham” is former minor league player Ron Shelton… and Shelton is the author of this extremely unique… and extremely entertaining… and actually educational in what goes on behind the scenes… in the very blood and guts of writing and directing a movie script… and all the obstacles of getting a movie made. Not unlike zig-zagging through a World War II minefield with a screenplay under your arm. One of the many unique presentational story line telling by the author… is the opening biographical expose’ on the author’s life with religious parents… baseball… and the “off-the-record” (because of his parents religious beliefs) love of movies. Every personal item shared by the author throughout the book… not only will tie in with some type of significance later on… but the meaningful linkage… will make you appreciate even more the entire gestation of everything that creates this final classic film. In reliving parts of his unsuccessful dreams of making the Big Leagues… he creates everything from the physical locations… to the poor lighting… to the unsuccessful managers and coaches and players… as guideposts for his fictional screen play. Especially enjoyable and amusing is how the author picked the names of the three main characters… “Crash” Davis… Ebby Calvin “Nuke” LaLoosh… and Annie Savoy. I won’t create a “spoiler” here… as Ron’s constant integration of his personal life… historical information… and whimsical insanity… is the most endearing part of this book! The author’s personal love of “drink”… leads to creative literary artistry. An example of a quick quip… “BEER LED TO JACK DANIEL’S LED TO SCOTCH LED TO… HOW COULD ANYONE PLAY BASEBALL AND NOT DRINK?” And integrated into the fiction and non-fiction… is actual discussion of Steve Dalkowski… who is known in baseball lore as the hardest throwing pitcher in history… but alcoholism kept him from ever throwing a pitch in a Major League game. Shelton may have anointed baseball as a church… but in my mind… he has at least created a special feeling of a “Temple” when spiritually describing a bar… “I’VE ALWAYS LIKED THE TERM “WATERING HOLE” FOR A NEIGHBORHOOD BAR WHERE FAMILIAR...
Short Excerpt Teaser
1
Forbidden Fruit
Bible stories were a big part of my growing up. The dramatic tales of Moses parting the Red Sea and coming down from the mountain and Jesus routing the money changers in the temple and the whole fantastic narrative still live loudly in my DNA. I took the required courses on the Old and New Testaments at the evangelical college I attended, perhaps the most rigorous classes I've ever taken, but by that time I was moving away from religious dogma and discovering that the universe of the secular (a pejorative word to Baptists) was infinitely more attractive. But the Bible stories still resonate.
The tree of the knowledge of good and evil was placed in the Garden of Eden by God as the one thing forbidden to Adam and Eve. Even as a child I felt like the game was rigged. We're taught that we are created human and therefore flawed, so of course we're going to eat the apple. Growing up in a family in which movies, drink, and cursing were forbidden, it was inevitable that I'd become a moviemaker who loves his cocktails and curses like a longshoreman. Clearly, it was preordained in the Book of Genesis. My parents broke the movie rule a couple of times (the rules of forbidden behavior were dictated by my father's job at an evangelical college rather than his own private beliefs). On one occasion, he and my mother packed my brother and me in the car and drove to the drive-in theater in Ventura to see Winchester '73, a Western about the invention of a rifle that changed the West. Directed by Anthony Mann and starring James Stewart, the movie has become something of a classic, though I remember little as a five-year-old other than how cold it was in the car and that we were sneaking around on God by driving to another town to watch it. That was more exciting than the movie.
Another time in Whittier, where my mother's parents lived and the rules were looser (they were English and not evangelical), we went to see Here Come the Nelsons, an Ozzie and Harriet feature about a girdle salesman. When you see very few movies, the details remain vivid-the climactic scene has a dozen girdles tied together between two trees across a road and the crooks escaping in a car can't break through the girdles. I loved it.
The third movie I saw was in Taft, California, a tough oil town thirty-seven miles southwest of Bakersfield. It was my father's hometown, and my brother and I were staying with my grandparents when my grandmother took us to see a movie based on a best seller about a preacher, A Man Called Peter. This book was wildly popular in the evangelical world and had been read by everyone in every church I attended as a kid. This was also the only time my rock-ribbed Baptist grandmother had ever been in a movie theater, though we suspected later that year she went to see Oklahoma! (they were from West Texas, and Oklahoma was close enough) but was afraid to confess it. So, my brother and I sat in the theater watching this weeper (the preacher dies) and when it was over we all sat for the second feature because it was unthinkable to pay for two movies and not sit through both. On came Ma and Pa Kettle in Waikiki. The title sequence had hula girls and my grandmother was mortified that she'd ruined us; she covered our eyes and ushered us out of the theater into the searing Taft sun. At ten years old, I had glimpsed the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and the hula girls looked pretty good, even if viewed in grainy shots of a tourist luau, circa 1955.
The illicitness of the darkened theater and a deep-red curtain drawn to reveal larger-than-life images accompanied by an orchestral score was overpowering. Even if the images were Ozzie and Harriet stretching girdles across a road and the good Reverend Peter Marshall expiring too young.
-
We didn't get a television until I was twelve, and that family purchase was triggered not by the desire to see the shows everyone was talking about-Superman and Perry Mason and Alfred Hitchcock Presents, among others-but because of baseball. Eddie Mathews was the star third baseman of the Milwaukee Braves but, more important, he was our hometown hero from Santa Barbara-and the Braves were in the World Series. This is more than anecdotal history; it's the first great moral crisis I saw my parents confront. The Braves were down two games to one with the critical fourth game landing on a Sunday in Milwaukee, late morning on the West Coast. The first three games we listened to on the radio. To stay alive, the Braves had to win on Sunday, but we had to be at the First Baptist Church at the same time. After Sunday school, when we trudged upstairs in our scratchy wool slacks and clip-on ties to the weekly interminable eleven o'clock service, where the Reverend Gus G...
Forbidden Fruit
Bible stories were a big part of my growing up. The dramatic tales of Moses parting the Red Sea and coming down from the mountain and Jesus routing the money changers in the temple and the whole fantastic narrative still live loudly in my DNA. I took the required courses on the Old and New Testaments at the evangelical college I attended, perhaps the most rigorous classes I've ever taken, but by that time I was moving away from religious dogma and discovering that the universe of the secular (a pejorative word to Baptists) was infinitely more attractive. But the Bible stories still resonate.
The tree of the knowledge of good and evil was placed in the Garden of Eden by God as the one thing forbidden to Adam and Eve. Even as a child I felt like the game was rigged. We're taught that we are created human and therefore flawed, so of course we're going to eat the apple. Growing up in a family in which movies, drink, and cursing were forbidden, it was inevitable that I'd become a moviemaker who loves his cocktails and curses like a longshoreman. Clearly, it was preordained in the Book of Genesis. My parents broke the movie rule a couple of times (the rules of forbidden behavior were dictated by my father's job at an evangelical college rather than his own private beliefs). On one occasion, he and my mother packed my brother and me in the car and drove to the drive-in theater in Ventura to see Winchester '73, a Western about the invention of a rifle that changed the West. Directed by Anthony Mann and starring James Stewart, the movie has become something of a classic, though I remember little as a five-year-old other than how cold it was in the car and that we were sneaking around on God by driving to another town to watch it. That was more exciting than the movie.
Another time in Whittier, where my mother's parents lived and the rules were looser (they were English and not evangelical), we went to see Here Come the Nelsons, an Ozzie and Harriet feature about a girdle salesman. When you see very few movies, the details remain vivid-the climactic scene has a dozen girdles tied together between two trees across a road and the crooks escaping in a car can't break through the girdles. I loved it.
The third movie I saw was in Taft, California, a tough oil town thirty-seven miles southwest of Bakersfield. It was my father's hometown, and my brother and I were staying with my grandparents when my grandmother took us to see a movie based on a best seller about a preacher, A Man Called Peter. This book was wildly popular in the evangelical world and had been read by everyone in every church I attended as a kid. This was also the only time my rock-ribbed Baptist grandmother had ever been in a movie theater, though we suspected later that year she went to see Oklahoma! (they were from West Texas, and Oklahoma was close enough) but was afraid to confess it. So, my brother and I sat in the theater watching this weeper (the preacher dies) and when it was over we all sat for the second feature because it was unthinkable to pay for two movies and not sit through both. On came Ma and Pa Kettle in Waikiki. The title sequence had hula girls and my grandmother was mortified that she'd ruined us; she covered our eyes and ushered us out of the theater into the searing Taft sun. At ten years old, I had glimpsed the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and the hula girls looked pretty good, even if viewed in grainy shots of a tourist luau, circa 1955.
The illicitness of the darkened theater and a deep-red curtain drawn to reveal larger-than-life images accompanied by an orchestral score was overpowering. Even if the images were Ozzie and Harriet stretching girdles across a road and the good Reverend Peter Marshall expiring too young.
-
We didn't get a television until I was twelve, and that family purchase was triggered not by the desire to see the shows everyone was talking about-Superman and Perry Mason and Alfred Hitchcock Presents, among others-but because of baseball. Eddie Mathews was the star third baseman of the Milwaukee Braves but, more important, he was our hometown hero from Santa Barbara-and the Braves were in the World Series. This is more than anecdotal history; it's the first great moral crisis I saw my parents confront. The Braves were down two games to one with the critical fourth game landing on a Sunday in Milwaukee, late morning on the West Coast. The first three games we listened to on the radio. To stay alive, the Braves had to win on Sunday, but we had to be at the First Baptist Church at the same time. After Sunday school, when we trudged upstairs in our scratchy wool slacks and clip-on ties to the weekly interminable eleven o'clock service, where the Reverend Gus G...
