Bears On Film: 42

Hi, everyone!  We're Joey and Iggy Beartran, your fav'rit Studious Metsimus film critics.  In today's edition of Bears On Film, we'd like to give you our thoughts on the movie "42", starring Chadwick Boseman as Jackie Robinson and Harrison Ford as Branch Rickey.

What can we say about this film that hasn't already been said?  (And it's been said by pretty much everyone, considering we're reviewing the film six weeks after it was released.)  The film tells the story of Jackie Robinson, the first African-American player in the major leagues, focusing on the three-year period from 1945 - when Brooklyn Dodgers' executive Branch Rickey got the idea to sign an African-American player - to 1947, when Robinson led the Dodgers to the National League pennant.

In the film's opening scene, Rickey (played beautifully by Harrison Ford) explains his intention to sign a man of color, saying that "money isn't black or white - it's green."  Rickey chooses to sign Robinson over his other Negro League contemporaries because he's young, college-educated, and has experience playing with white teammates from his time on the UCLA baseball team.  But Robinson's academic and baseball education in California wasn't enough to prepare him for the education in bigotry and hatred he would receive as a member of the Dodgers organization.

Chadwick Boseman embodied the spirit of Jackie Robinson in the film.  He was a fighter who wasn't afraid to stand up for himself and his beliefs (as evidenced by a scene in which he told a white gas station attendant that his team would find another service station if he wasn't allowed to use the bathroom) and he was also a devout family man who loved his young bride, Rachel (brilliantly portrayed by Nicole Beharie) and their newborn son, Jackie Jr.

The love shared by Jackie and Rachel Robinson rivaled their love to fight for what was right.

Both Boseman and Beharie were excellent in their roles, with Boseman perfectly conveying the struggles of being a black player in a white sport and Beharie showing her devotion to her husband and his dream of succeeding under difficult conditions.  And what difficult conditions they were!

Robinson had to deal with opposing players (and several of his own teammates) who didn't want him on the field.  Opposing managers also weren't keen on the idea of facing a black opponent.  Phillies manager Ben Chapman (played with villainous accuracy by Alan Tudyk) was the worst offender of them all.  His repeated use of the "n-word" and other vile epithets whenever Robinson stepped up to the plate did what no other man could do.  It nearly broke Robinson.

But in one memorable scene (though not one that was exactly factual), Branch Rickey finds Robinson in the tunnel behind the Dodgers dugout after Robinson had broken his bat into pieces following a racist tirade by Chapman.  Rickey tries to convince a distraught and nearly broken Robinson to return to the game because he's better than those who try to bring him down.  Robinson, still shaken, ponders the situation before informing Rickey that he'll need a new bat.

Robinson did return to the game and before long, he returned the National League pennant to Brooklyn, a place it had rarely been in team history.  On the way to the pennant, the viewer got to see iconic moments from the 1947 season.  From Robinson's major league debut to Pee Wee Reese famously putting his arm around the shoulder of his first baseman at Cincinnati's Crosley Field, the film stayed close to true events and showed the extreme difficulties of being ostracized by an ignorant society.

Iggy and I re-enact the scene between Pee Wee Reese and Jackie Robinson.

On personal notes, both Iggy and I loved seeing the old, defunct ballparks in the film.  From Ebbets Field (and the Abe Stark sign on the outfield wall) to the Polo Grounds (with the Longines Clock in center field), it was a delight to see parks we were too young to see in person.  Also delightful were the performances of Andre Holland as Pittsburgh Courier reporter Wendell Smith, Christopher Meloni as suspended Dodger manager Leo Durocher (as a long-time fan of Law & Order: SVU, Iggy was quite fond on his performance) and John C. McGinley, who was "foist-rate" as Dodger broadcaster Red Barber.

But of course, as Mets fans, we can't finish our review without mentioning the performance of 11-year-old Dusan Brown.  The young Master Brown played the role of a child who was in awe of Jackie Robinson and couldn't wait to see him play in person, which he did when he attended a spring training game in Florida with his mother.  In his first at-bat, Robinson walked on four pitches, then promptly stole second and third.  The pitcher (who, like many other players at the time, was not in favor of Robinson sharing a field with him) got so rattled by Robinson's antics on the bases, he dropped the ball on the mound, allowing Robinson to score on a balk.

In one of the film's funniest lines, Master Brown explained to his mother that the pitcher "was discombobulated" by Robinson's baserunning wizardry.  Long-time Mets fans should not be surprised by the 11-year-old's use of the polysyllabic word, as he grew up to become "The Glider" on the 1969 World Series champion New York Mets.  And of course, in addition to being the team's third baseman in their miraculous season, Ed Charles was the team's poet laureate, crafting numerous rhyming couplets in his days with the team.  So it would be safe to say that "discombobulated" was a word that a future poet laureate would be familiar with as a middle-schooler.

Glad to see that Dusan Brown was not "discombobulated" as he portrayed a young Ed Charles.

In summary, "42" was a wonderful tribute to the man who broke baseball's color barrier in 1947.  The film was clearly a labor of love by writer/director Brian Helgeland and accurately captured what it was like to live in a world where tolerance and acceptance of people of color were still new concepts.

Baseball fans will certainly enjoy the on-field scenes featuring the Brooklyn Dodgers in action.  But fans of American history (and Robinson's life is quite an important part of the history of our country) will truly appreciate the film for its portrayal of a real American hero.  We can't think of anything to complain about this film (although Iggy wishes the film would have shown the iconic moment when Jackie Robinson stood in front of the Dodgers clubhouse wearing his Montreal Royals jersey), and as a result, we gladly give "42" two paws up.

"42" is a film no true baseball fan should miss.  Heck, it's a film no true American should miss.  It's a grand slam in every sense of the word.
 

Bears On Film: Knuckleball!

Hi, everyone!  It's us, Joey and Iggy Beartran, coming at you from the Tribeca Film Festival, where we were treated to VIP treatment for the premiere of Knuckleball!, a documentary on the dying art of knuckleball pitching and the fraternity that the pitch has created amongst its throwers.

Before we discuss the film, we'd like to share the beautiful movie poster we won (see photo to the left), which was autographed by four of the protagonists of the film.  In all, three former major league knuckleball pitchers (Jim Bouton, Charlie Hough and Tim Wakefield) and one current knuckler (the Mets' own R.A. Dickey) signed the poster.   All four were also in attendance at the premiere, as were the film's director and producer.

Before the film, we were treated to live music (courtesy of Moon Hooch) and a surprise appearance by Mr. Met.  Then, shortly after sundown, the film began.  (Did we mention it was an outdoor premiere, similar to a drive-in experience, except that we took the subway and we didn't catch anyone making out in the backseat of their car?)

The film began with the recently retired Tim Wakefield, as he was searching for his 200th career victory last year.  Most of the film dealt with Wakefield and R.A. Dickey, with occasional appearances and interviews with other knuckleball pitchers such as Jim Bouton, Charlie Hough, Wilbur Wood, Tom Candiotti and Hall of Famer Phil Niekro.

In one particular memorable scene, Dickey, Wakefield, Hough and Niekro gathered together for a golf outing (Dickey can really drive the ball, while Niekro, golfing in his Atlanta Braves cap, looked like Jack Nicklaus but couldn't play like him) and a chat.  The brothers-in-knuckles discussed the toughest hitters they faced in the major leagues among other topics.

Charlie Hough claimed Mark Salas was his toughest out.  This is the same Mark Salas who was a catcher for six teams in his eight-year career and finished with a lifetime .247 batting average and a mere 319 hits.  But against Hough, Salas turned into Babe Ruth, batting .433 (13-for-30) with three home runs.  For two seasons (1986-87), Salas was unconscious against Hough, batting .692 (9-for-13) with an ungodly 1.385 slugging percentage.  R.A. Dickey called Salas a "slappie", which was an affectionate term for a good contact hitter who would always fight off knuckleballs until they were able to get one that didn't knuckle as much.

For Phil Niekro and Tim Wakefield, their toughest outs were players who were good hitters against many pitchers, not just knuckleball artists.  Niekro admitted to having a rough time with Bill Buckner, while Wakefield hated facing Darryl Strawberry, which was proven when the film cut to footage of the Straw Man hitting a titanic home run off Wakefield in the old Yankee Stadium that cleared the side of the upper deck and hit a garage door in the back of the stadium.  (In case you were wondering, the scene with the four knucklers ended without Dickey naming his toughest out, although he later admitted that Carlos Delgado always hit him well, while Derek Jeter was a player who did not fare well against him.)

From there on, the film focused on Wakefield's rise to the major leagues as a converted infielder who couldn't hit and culminated with his 200th victory on September 13, 2011.  The use of old footage was amazing, especially when showing his rise and fall with the Pittsburgh Pirates in 1992 and 1993.

R.A. Dickey gives an interview while Tim Wakefield and Charlie Hough pose for photos behind him. 

In the case of R.A. Dickey, there were times when his story mirrored the events detailed in his book, Wherever I Wind Up.  For a moment, we thought we were watching the movie adaptation of his book and not a story about knuckleball pitchers over the years, especially in a scene that discussed his missing ulnar collateral ligament and various scenes featuring his wife, Anne.  The other knucklers' spouses did not make appearances in the film, save for a short scene with Stacy Wakefield.

As Mets fans, of course we were attracted to Dickey's rise from a highly-touted conventional pitcher to a journeyman pitcher who moved 37 times to pursue his dream.  But the Wakefield story was also intriguing and was discussed at length in the film.  The director did a fine job in showing how Wakefield became a knuckleball pitcher and how he used that unpredictable pitch to become one of the Red Sox' all-time winningest pitchers.  But it also showed just how that pitch can lead to unfortunate moments, such as the home run Wakefield gave up to Aaron Boone to end the 2003 American League Championship Series.

After giving up the home run, Wakefield claimed that he thought he was going to be Bill Buckner for a new generation of Red Sox fans (yes, Mets fans, we do get to see Mookie hitting the ball through Buckner's legs as Wakefield talks about this), but instead, he was not vilified in Boston.  Rather, he was appreciated for everything he gave the team over his long career with the Red Sox.  This revelation then led to the scene in the film when Wakefield finally achieved his landmark 200th victory, followed by footage of his retirement in February 2012, where Wakefield thanked all the knuckleballers that came before him and passed the torch to R.A. Dickey.  It was truly a beautiful story and an outstanding job of editing.

All in all, we enjoyed the film very much.  Of course, we might be biased as Mets fans because of all the attention given to R.A. Dickey.  (Look out for a scene in the film where Dickey talks about his chances of making a start after tearing his fingernail, claiming that he should have no problem because his body tends to generate an excess amount of protein, which leads to fingernail growth - he also claims this is why he has no difficulty growing hair.)   But even without Dickey's screen time, the film was quite an effort by the director/producer team of Ricki Stern and Annie Sundberg.

Unlike an actual knuckleball, which tends to go all over the place before settling in (or bouncing off) the catcher's mitt, the film Knuckleball! was easy to follow and a pleasure to watch.  It provided fantastic insight into the rarely-used pitch and the men who made a living throwing it.  We highly recommend it and give it two paws up.  (We'd give it two knuckles up, but we don't have any knuckles...)

For our review of Moneyball, please click here.  No, there is no truth to the rumor that we only review films with balls in their titles.  That's just a coincidence, although we did enjoy Meatballs and Spaceballs.

Bears On Film: Moneyball

Greetings to all!  We're Joey and Iggy Beartran and this is the premier edition of Bears On Film, which is not to be confused with Men On Film, the old skit starring Damon Wayans and David Alan Grier from In Living Color or Girls On Film, the classic song by Duran Duran.  In today's segment, we're going to review "Moneyball", a film based on the best-selling book by Michael Lewis.

(By the way, this review comes with a HEAVY SPOILER ALERT, so if you don't want to know what happens in the film, you should stop reading this now.  However, since we went through all this trouble to write it, you'll have to get us some popcorn so that we don't call your house and leave a voice mail with the entire synopsis of the film.)

The cast of the film includes Brad Pitt as Oakland A's general manager (and former Mets first round draft pick) Billy Beane, Academy Award winner Philip Seymour Hoffman as A's manager (and former Mets manager) Art Howe and Jonah Hill as assistant general manager Peter Brand (since Paul DePodesta was presumably too hard to spell).

The film begins with the 2001 ALDS between the Oakland A's and the New York Yankees, focusing on Johnny Damon (the opening shot of the film is of Damon batting against Roger Clemens in Game 5 of the ALDS) and Jason Giambi, two high-priced members of the A's who were free agents at the end of the season.  The A's fell to the Yankees in that deciding fifth game and Damon and Giambi signed free agent contracts with the Red Sox and Yankees, respectively.  (Former and current Met Jason Isringhausen was another free agent mentioned in the film who packed his bags following the Game 5 loss and took his wares to St. Louis.)

General manger Billy Beane was left with a problem after the departures of his star players.  How would he replace their numbers without breaking the bank?  Enter Peter Brand. (Or Paul DePodesta - if you're still calling it Shea, then we're calling him DePodesta!)

In a meeting with Cleveland Indians' GM Mark Shapiro (played by Reed Diamond), Beane attempts to trade for relief pitcher Ricardo Rincon.  When that fails, he decides to acquire outfielder (and future Met) Karim Garcia, a player Shapiro is originally open to dealing.  However, Brand/DePodesta, through a series a hand and head gestures, tells Shapiro not to deal Garcia.  Beane ends up with nothing from Cleveland.  However, he didn't leave empty-handed.  Shortly after the meeting, Beane convinced Brand/DePodesta to come work for him in Oakland as his new assistant general manager.

We missed the next few minutes of the film because we wanted some snacks.  It was really hard to pass up that freshly popped popcorn and the oodles of snacks on display, so we sacrificed a few minutes of the film to refuel (that's code for filling our tummies).  Eventually, we'll catch those missing minutes on DVD/Blu-ray.  For now, you'll have to either see the film or ask someone who saw it in its entirety and wasn't as tempted by the snack display as we were.

The movie continued with Beane and Brand/DePodesta bucking the system, while at the same time alienating the other members of the A's front office/talent evaluators with their new approach to evaluating players, namely through the use of on-base percentage as a way to properly replace Damon and Giambi without having to pay an arm, a leg and Rollie Fingers' mustache for it.  Billy Beane was down with OBP (yeah, you know me), while the old farts of the old regime were left with questions like "Who's Fabio?".  (Trust us, it's a very funny scene.)

Damon and Giambi were replaced by David Justice and Scott Hatteberg.  Justice had helped defeat the A's in the 2001 ALDS, but was considered to be over-the-hill and a liability on the field by all of the talent evaluators on the A's not named Beane and Brand/DePodesta.  Hatteberg had played all or parts of seven seasons with the Boston Red Sox, primarily as a catcher.  However, he could no longer throw the ball and was not being sought after by any major league teams.

Despite their shortcomings on the field, both Justice and Hatteberg did have one thing in common.  They walked more than Caine in Kung Fu.

So down came the Damon, Giambi and Isringhausen banners at the Network Associates Coliseum (that's what the ballpark was called in 2002) and up went a lone David Justice banner.  The 2002 A's were built to walk, and over the first two months of the season, they walked their way to the bottom of the AL West standings.

Manager Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman) refused to play Scott Hatteberg at first base, going so far as to reminding his general manager that it was his (Howe's) job to manage and Beane's job to be the general manager.  Needless to say, Beane wasn't exactly fond of his manager, so he traded Howe's other options at first base, Carlos Peña and Jeremy Giambi, to the Detroit Tigers and Philadelphia Phillies, respectively.  This led to a classic scene in the film where Beane orders Howe to insert Hatteberg in that night's starting lineup, to which Howe steadfastly refuses.  Howe insists on starting Peña that night before finally being told by Beane that he can't start a Detroit Tiger at first base.

Philip Seymour Hoffman must be a great actor if he could effectively play the most boring manager in major league history in Art Howe.

The film continues with the ascension of the new "Moneyball" A's, as they rise from the ashes of last place (after Beane assures the owner of the A's that they would be within seven games of first place by the All-Star Break) and adds a story not seen in the Michael Lewis book, namely the relationship between Beane and his daughter, Casey (played by Kerris Dorsey).

Although the father-daughter relationship scenes seemed out of place at first and an unwelcome addition to the film, one particular scene in a music shop set the stage for future scenes involving Beane's ability to "enjoy the show" that was his ragtag group of players (and yes, the quotation marks in the previous sentence are intentional).

And what a show it was!  The A's climbed all the way to the top of the AL West, winning an American League record 20 consecutive games late in the season.  They returned to the playoffs after being written off by many after the fleecing of their high-priced free agents, but were once again eliminated in the ALDS, this time by the Minnesota Twins.


Moneyball showed off the fantastic acting chops of Brad Pitt and Philip Seymour Hoffman, but what surprised us the most was the portrayal of Brand/DePodesta by Jonah Hill.  Hill's dramatic turn in Moneyball was a complete 180 from his usual comedic roles and should not be discounted.  Speaking of comedic roles, Brent Jennings was hysterical in his role of A's infield coach Ron Washington, producing some of the movie's funniest lines (a scene in Scott Hatteberg's house comes to mind).

Finally, we can't imagine what's it like to be a GM in the major leagues, but one scene involving Beane's attempt to finally land reliever Ricardo Rincon from the Indians at the trade deadline was pure genius.  The scene involves a hectic back-and-forth exchange between Beane, the always-in-the-background Brand/DePodesta, Beane's secretary Suzanne, and a plethora of other major league GMs, including former Mets GM Steve Phillips.

And to think this was all for a 32-year-old lefty specialist who pitched a grand total of 443.2 innings in 11 seasons in the majors (which, you guessed it, ended with this time as a Met in 2008 - did everyone in this movie have a job with the Mets at some point?  Even Chad Bradford, who "prayed" for Billy Beane in another fantastic scene, played in Flushing.)

Brad Pitt will certainly garner attention from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences come Oscar time.  His portrayal of Billy Beane showed a man who was willing to think outside the box, but did so because winning was the most important thing to him.  His passion for the game, despite not being able to play it well enough to stay in the major leagues (seeing him in a 1984 Mets road jersey with the racing pinstripes was worth the price of admission), was evident throughout the film.  Losing was unacceptable.  Beane would not accept anything less, even from players who on paper weren't supposed to compete with the Yankees or other teams that bathed in their own money, and Pitt played the character perfectly.

Brad Pitt rallies the troops, which includes former big league shortstop Royce Clayton, who plays Miguel Tejada (clearly before Tejada's "alleged" steroid use).

Since we are also the Studious Metsimus culinary experts, we couldn't help but notice various scenes with Beane eating peanuts, popcorn and an entire Twinkie in one bite.  He never seemed to eat anything but junk food, which is a trait we'd like to incorporate into our lifestyles when we're not reviewing baseball films.

So do we recommend Moneyball to our faithful readers?  Let's just say we gave the film TWO BIG PAWS UP!!

It's got tremendous acting (Philip Seymour Hoffman put Iggy to sleep a few times, which means he played Art Howe perfectly), fantastic baseball drama (the A's-Royals matchup at the end of the 20-game winning streak was full of tension - we felt like we were watching an actual game being played), and enough junk food to make any bear happy.

At two hours and 13 minutes, the film might have been a tad lengthy (gotta love those father-daughter scenes), but then again, it was about as long as four innings of a Red Sox-Yankees game.  If you think of it that way, the film flew by.

Moneyball was worth the money we found in the Studious Metsimus petty cash tin.  Even the Oakland A's, with their penny-pinching ways, would shell out top dollar for this film.  The A's might not have won a championship yet under Billy Beane, but the performances in this film are most certainly of a championship caliber.  Go see Moneyball!