While Angels in the Outfield is not in the same league as such great Hollywood fantasies as It's a Wonderful Life, it's nonetheless an enjoyable little film. Angels' biggest problem is that its screenplay tries too hard to cover too many bases. As a result, there's a love story that's treated a trifle too tangentially to be as effective as it might be; the grump-gets-heart-melted-by-little-orphan subplot isn't exploited fully, a court scene that owes a little too much to Miracle on 34th Street gets thrust in at the last minute, and a sentimental climax involving an over-the-hill pitcher doesn't really wash because it's not properly set up. Even with this jumble of spare parts and in spite of Clarence Brown's so-so direction, Angels still works, thanks largely to the wonderful performance of its leading man, Paul Douglas. Possessing a face that might have been the inspiration for the word "hangdog," Douglas is expert at creating characters who are insistently gruff, grumpy and stubborn but still are believably vulnerable and warm. Douglas grabs hold of Guffy from the first moment and never lets go, galvanizing the film in its slack moments and relishing the opportunities he is given to carry a film on his stooped but broad shoulders. Throw in a sweet but not cloying performance from youngster Donna Corcoran and a solid turn from Janet Leigh and there's more than enough to make Angels a pleasant little experience.
