Even though I have noted this to be a spoiler review, I will mark the few spoilers within the comment.
In reality, Jimmy Piersall was a gifted outfielder who battled bipolar disorder throughout his life, especially during his playing days in a time when lithium had not yet been discovered as a drug treatment for the disorder. (If anyone wonders, that treatment began in 1958.) That's not the character the film portrays. Instead, this Jim Piersall (Who is oddly never called "Jimmy," considering that he is almost exclusively known as "Jimmy" in reality.) is a kid (presumably only 23 years old at the film's close, based on his real-life history) pushed too hard, too far, and too fast by his father, resulting in a mental breakdown that requires him to face his true feelings about his father. However, as long as one does not expect to see the lifelong bipolar disorder struggle portrayed, this film does easily merit the viewing.
The easiest part of the film to appreciate is the excellent acting, especially by the always-excellent Anthony Perkins. Perkins manages to convey such varying emotions and degrees of emotion that it boggles the mind. He ranges everywhere from an insane anger to a subtle feeling of pain hidden under a look of beaming happiness and does so with a dexterity rarely found in any actor. Karl Malden also deserves some credit for an excellent performance as the driving, overbearing-but-loving father. He never needs any dialogue to tell us how he feels about his son or why he pushes Jim the way he does, because his face tells it all. No other characters in the film really gave the actor the opportunity to show tremendous ability.
However, the direction is also excellent. Robert Mulligan reinforces his film's themes with constant images showing Jim behind or between bars, as though he is trapped in his path (until of course the mental hospital, where such visual entrapment never occurs). He even goes so far as to show John Piersall handing his son a letter saying that scouts from the Boston Red Sox are coming to town to see him, a scene that would seem to bring the two together as they have nearly accomplished their shared goal, with a fence separating them. The scene is one of the most poignant in all of film history. Even the ending of the film is shot with a particular eye to detail that rewards the careful viewer.
*Note: This paragraph is about hints from close viewing, so there are some small spoilers. None should hinder enjoyment of the film, but one should be warned.* There are also a number of subtle hints that seem to suggest that Piersall's problem is more than a temporary breakdown. First of all, his father at one point tells his mother, "I don't want you going away again," suggesting that perhaps she has the same issues Jim does. Secondly, the conclusion of the film is ambiguous, showing a beaming Jim Piersall headed onto the field of play bathed in a heroic, heavenly bright overhead light, but doing so from such a distance as to suggest that perhaps this ending isn't assured. These elements may have been to suggest the bipolar disorder from which Piersall actually suffered while presenting his case as it would have appeared at the time it occurred. The original Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders appeared in 1952, so certainly bipolar disorder's existence was already established (and the term was coined around the turn of the century, by Emil Kreiplin if memory serves) and could have been incorporated into the film. It's an interesting close viewing element of the film, at least. *Spoilers over* Overall, "Fear Strikes Out" may have been something of a distortion of reality (and obviously Jimmy Piersall himself thought so) and it probably oversimplifies Piersall's psychological problems, but it does tell its own story beautifully and artfully with incredible performances and spot-on direction. The only real issue I have with the film is the score, which was so over-dramatic as to undercut the real emotion of the film. It is definitely recommended.
In reality, Jimmy Piersall was a gifted outfielder who battled bipolar disorder throughout his life, especially during his playing days in a time when lithium had not yet been discovered as a drug treatment for the disorder. (If anyone wonders, that treatment began in 1958.) That's not the character the film portrays. Instead, this Jim Piersall (Who is oddly never called "Jimmy," considering that he is almost exclusively known as "Jimmy" in reality.) is a kid (presumably only 23 years old at the film's close, based on his real-life history) pushed too hard, too far, and too fast by his father, resulting in a mental breakdown that requires him to face his true feelings about his father. However, as long as one does not expect to see the lifelong bipolar disorder struggle portrayed, this film does easily merit the viewing.
The easiest part of the film to appreciate is the excellent acting, especially by the always-excellent Anthony Perkins. Perkins manages to convey such varying emotions and degrees of emotion that it boggles the mind. He ranges everywhere from an insane anger to a subtle feeling of pain hidden under a look of beaming happiness and does so with a dexterity rarely found in any actor. Karl Malden also deserves some credit for an excellent performance as the driving, overbearing-but-loving father. He never needs any dialogue to tell us how he feels about his son or why he pushes Jim the way he does, because his face tells it all. No other characters in the film really gave the actor the opportunity to show tremendous ability.
However, the direction is also excellent. Robert Mulligan reinforces his film's themes with constant images showing Jim behind or between bars, as though he is trapped in his path (until of course the mental hospital, where such visual entrapment never occurs). He even goes so far as to show John Piersall handing his son a letter saying that scouts from the Boston Red Sox are coming to town to see him, a scene that would seem to bring the two together as they have nearly accomplished their shared goal, with a fence separating them. The scene is one of the most poignant in all of film history. Even the ending of the film is shot with a particular eye to detail that rewards the careful viewer.
*Note: This paragraph is about hints from close viewing, so there are some small spoilers. None should hinder enjoyment of the film, but one should be warned.* There are also a number of subtle hints that seem to suggest that Piersall's problem is more than a temporary breakdown. First of all, his father at one point tells his mother, "I don't want you going away again," suggesting that perhaps she has the same issues Jim does. Secondly, the conclusion of the film is ambiguous, showing a beaming Jim Piersall headed onto the field of play bathed in a heroic, heavenly bright overhead light, but doing so from such a distance as to suggest that perhaps this ending isn't assured. These elements may have been to suggest the bipolar disorder from which Piersall actually suffered while presenting his case as it would have appeared at the time it occurred. The original Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders appeared in 1952, so certainly bipolar disorder's existence was already established (and the term was coined around the turn of the century, by Emil Kreiplin if memory serves) and could have been incorporated into the film. It's an interesting close viewing element of the film, at least. *Spoilers over* Overall, "Fear Strikes Out" may have been something of a distortion of reality (and obviously Jimmy Piersall himself thought so) and it probably oversimplifies Piersall's psychological problems, but it does tell its own story beautifully and artfully with incredible performances and spot-on direction. The only real issue I have with the film is the score, which was so over-dramatic as to undercut the real emotion of the film. It is definitely recommended.