An Elegiac Intrusion: Life and Movies

"I just realized a good portion of this movie is about talking to people on the phone and going to meetings. Do you think that's going to fly?"

I'm reading Roger Ebert's memoir, Life Itself, and it's lovely so far. Filled with details about his life and childhood he claims that he was only able to recall after loosing the ability to speak. His tales of growing up in Urbana-Champaign evokes some long lost Rockwellian ideal. Seems like his generation was the last innocent one, a romantic notion, but probably true. Ebert has always appealed to the common man. His reviews are in plain English, they don't hide behind obscure references or theories that only academics would appreciate. He reviews in the first person because, according to him, how else would he write? He also proclaims that he's never missed a deadline.  I cannot proclaim the same.

I missed my Moneyball deadline last night, fair readers. Instead of writing I ate Indian food (delivered, of course), drank gin and tonics, and talked and texted with cousins as we prepare ourselves for loss (whenever it may occur)...as if preparation were even possible.  Despite the fact that I did not change my name when I got married more than 4 years ago, I greatly respect the Patriarch, especially ours, a grandfather who pulls off a gold Italian horn necklace and squeezes laughs out of even the worst joke. But, The Great Oz is sick, has been for years now. Cancer. And Cancer is starting to pull ahead. And all I can say is that f!@#ing sucks.

I suppose I will write more about my grandfather in future. I'm not sure what else I can do to be honest.  But for now, I will write about a movie. Thanks for reading.

I apologize in advance for typos.  It's one of those days.

Moneyball

Though I wonder what Steven Soderbergh’s Moneyball would have looked like, director Bennet Miller (Capote) does a solid job with this true story of Oakland Athletics iconoclastic manager Billy Beane and math.  Co-penned (or doctored) by Aaron Sorkin, a similar magic to The Social Network is utilized here too. This movie is essentially about business meetings and spreadsheets with baseball footage (some actual) thrown in.  I don't know how Sorkin makes this shit interesting and dramatic, but he gets the job done.

Frustrated by always loosing the last game of the season, the 2001 A's also suffer through the loss of three star players to big bad rich teams (Johnny Damon to the Sox, Jason Giambi to the Yankees). With a fraction of the payroll, Beane (Pitt) teams up with a recent Yale grad, Peter Brand (Hill), to staff a winning team using stats over scout reports.  Every team plays "Moneyball" now, but at the time grabbing cheaper players who look better on paper than in person was a new thing.  Of course everyone is against these two mavericks, the owner, coach Art Horne (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), the public...until they start winning in 2002.  

Moneyball achieves a surprising intimacy in its many closeups, mostly of the Redford-esque Pitt.  The overarching Bad News Bears vibe is balanced by an understated, natural delivery by all.  Subtle performances and quiet looks are key. Hill, of all people, makes best use of this. That restraint manages to relay the romance of baseball without making it too sappy. That said; the many men in this film express themselves quite freely, though this results in more spit than tears.

There are just a few problems with this true story. It sorts of leaves out some stuff in order to play up the underdog angle.  This flick does all it can to amplify dramatic effect, like playing up Beane's opposition and failing to mention the A's 3 star pitchers, the "Big Three" -  Mark Mulder, Tim Hudson and Barry Zito - the latter won the Cy Young in 2002.  

Blending of actual game footage has some weak points too. Don’t try to approximately match faces of the movie versions of these actual faces in the game footage. Only Hatteberg, the catcher turned first baseman played by the wide-eyed charmer Parks and Rec's Chris Pratt,  is recognizable when compared to the actual footage.  The non-A’s players aren't safe from misrepresentation either.  Apparently no one knew what Raul Ibanez looks like either. And the young Billy Beane is played by an actor that could not look less like young Brad Pitt - a very perplexing choice.

The supporting cast is rounded out by those who seem like non-actors and actors acting like non-actors. The ancient scouts dissecting players in the clubhouse makes for some of the best scenes in the film.  And then there's Beane's daughter, played by Kerris Dorsey - who has been in a ton of films for a 13 year old.  I do not find it adorable when little kids sing pop songs about adult love. I think it's creepy, especially when such a song is played over the emotional climax of a movie.

I’m not the first and won’t be the last to compare Pitt’s performance to Robert Redford. The story is all American and Pitt is in his element here as a former player manager who's working out his demons and trying to change baseball forever. And for once it's an element that is also enjoyable to watch.  Pitt's got a quiet athletic swagger than explodes in physical force. Real men don't talk about their feelings. They throw stuff at walls.  It's fun to watch, I admit. Fans of the game know how this one ends, but I won't spoil it for the rest of you. Moneyball isn't revolutionary, but it's enjoyable even though it's also a little tepid.  The creative engineering of this true story is a marvel, the film not so much.
   

Moneyball
opens today
133 mins - and it feels like it.
Dir.: Bennet Miller
Writ.: Steve Zaillian (Schindler's List), Aaron Sorkin (you know who he is), with story by Steve Chervin based on the book Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game by Michael Lewis
Starring: Brad Pitt, Jonah Hill, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Chris Pratt, lots of females that get men coffee and Robin Wright for like 2 seconds
Rated: PG-13 for disgusting was to deliver nicotine into your bloodstream and Jeremy Giambi's locker room dance.


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P.S. If you sense a disenchantment with the game in my review, perhaps it's because the Cards blew a 5 run lead last night, allowing the Mets to score 6 in the 9th. THE METS!!