We watched a most perfect movie the other night, having given up on a detective series which just seemed to be tailing off into grimness and futility, and besides, had gone far astray from the book series which had originally attracted my interest. A League of Their Own is in my personal pantheon of ‘most perfect movies’ – joining A Christmas Story, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Adventures in Babysitting, among others. Those certain movies evoke a particular time and place, are tightly written, perfectly cast and performed. Yeah, I am stuck in the last century when it comes to movies.

So, even if Geena Davis, Jon Lovitz, Tom Hanks, Rosie O’Donnell, Madonna and Bill Pullman were basically playing themselves, their usual selves were suitable to the characters, and they were backed up by a peerless collection of skilled character actors and they all had priceless lines. Even now, my daughter and I chide Wee Jamie with “There is no crying in baseball!” which may scar him permanently. Possibly, League marks the last time that Rosie O’Donnell was legitimately funny, and Madonna still looked like a normal person, rather than the plastic countenance she wears now. (Single funniest and most apt line – “You think there are men in this country who ain’t seen your bosoms?”) I wonder how much Penny Marshall brought to the game, being a female with a background in comedy herself. The rivalry between two sisters, one who was good at baseball without really caring much about pursuing it and the other who was almost as good and cared so much that she could taste it … that was a very subtle, female thing.