42 (2013): Written and
directed by Brian Helgeland. Starring: Chadwick Boseman, Harrison Ford, and Alan
Tudyk. Rated PG-13 for: thematic
elements and language. Running Time: 128 minutes
Rating: 3/4 Stars
(3.5 for baseball fans)
As I
sat down to watch 42, it occurred to
me that, even though baseball has been woven into the fabric of American
society for nearly a century and a half (and has ingrained itself into our
culture and language), there has been a relative lack of good baseball movies
based on true baseball stories. Seriously, not counting fictional classics
like Field of Dreams or Sandlot, how many genuinely good baseball
movies can you think of that are based on real events? Eight
Men Out, A League Of Their Own, Moneyball, maybe a few others. Compared to the huge number of incredible
stories baseball has to offer, that’s a really small number.
Thankfully,
42 is a solid enough film that it
will probably join that unfortunately short list of great baseball films, despite
being far from perfect itself. In just
over two hours, the film covers the two years immediately following the
now-legendary decision by Branch Rickey (then the General Manager of the
Brooklyn Dodgers) to break one of the biggest unspoken rules of the baseball world
by signing Jackie Robinson for several thousand dollars, making him the very
first black player to play for a professional (read “official”) baseball team. After he signs the contract, Robinson spends
a year in the Dodgers’ farm system (another, lesser-known innovation of Rickey’s),
after which he is sent to the major leagues.
The film ends with the Dodgers clinching the pennant at the end of the
year, and with Jackie Robinson winning the first Rookie of the Year award
shortly afterwards. And from day one, he
is forced to silently and passively endure racism in all its forms-
anonymously-mailed death threats, unending cries of “Go home nigger” from
countless stadiums and opposing teams, hostility and resentment from his own teammates,
and every so often the threat of actual, physical violence.
There’s
a very telling scene in the movie when Rickey asks Jackie what he thinks about
the Dodgers getting to the World Series.
Robinson, in his quiet, stoic manner, responds, “I don’t think it
matters what I think. It matters what I
do.” The film seems to take Robinson’s
word for it, as the focus of the movie is less on Jackie’s own, personal
experience and far more on the perspective of us, looking back now and able to
more fully comprehend what he (or, to be more exact, his career) meant to the
world of baseball. In this, the movie
loses a chance for some real depth. We
get bits and pieces of Robinson’s feelings- a few conversations with his wife
or with Rickey, and one genuinely excellent scene where he leaves the field so
one can see him break a bat to let out all his pent-up rage- but it never
amounts to any definitive image or statement about the man himself. Most of what we see in the film is what the
world saw when he actually played- a man quietly and determinedly proving
everyone wrong with his outstanding abilities on the diamond.
That’s
not to say Jackie is a blank slate in his own film- Chadwick’s performance is
as subtle as it is quiet, able to make the audience understand how pressured he
feels without needing to shout, or curse, or grimace. And all the abuse he endures (including a
hilariously unexpected turn by Firefly’s Alan Tudyk as the racist Phillies
manager) never prevents him from enjoying the game he’s dedicated his life to. The highlights of the movie are his scenes
with Harrison Ford’s Rickey, a performance that could very well end up on a lot
of nomination lists next January- the two play off each other perfectly, and
their frank candor with each other is a welcome relief from the constant
meanness and pettiness that fills the rest of the film. The film also deserves credit for openly
acknowledging that Rickey’s intentions in signing Jackie were not *just*
philanthropic in nature- in his very first scene he tells his assistants, both
concerned about the fallout from this decision, “Dollars aren’t black or white,
gentlemen. They’re green. Every one of them is green.”
If you
are a sports fan, and/or a fan of sports movies, I can’t think of a reason why
you wouldn’t really, really like 42. If you are indifferent to (or utterly abhor)
sports films in all their romanticizing, this probably won’t convert you,
although I would still recommend the film for Harrison Ford’s performance
alone. The film avoids delving into the
big (and very sticky) questions of racism in American and its many, ongoing
legacies, but it also never shies away from the fairly open racism that
pervaded all of baseball AND the country, not just in the stereotypical
South. Pretty much every form of abuse
that Robinson had to endure is portrayed at one point or another, including the
petition that many of the Dodgers initially signed saying they would refuse to
play if he was brought up (to which Rickey and his manager respond, “Okay. Have fun being traded!”). Even though it occasionally feels less like
a movie about Jackie Robinson and more like a compendium of “bad things said to
Jackie Robinson when he played,” 42
is a well-made, well-acted, and respectable tribute to one of baseball’s
greatest players and icons, even if it dives a little too far into romanticism.
-Noah Franc
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