I’ve never really had any great love for the game of
baseball. But the one time I remember really getting into it was the post 9/11
playoff season when it seemed like a Yankees victory in the World Series would
magically heal the emotional wounds left over from that tragic day; when, in
spite of the still-smoldering Ground Zero, we were able to focus on something
that is otherwise meaningless in the grand scheme of things, whose very
meaninglessness was all the more reason to assign more significance than it would
otherwise merit.
We watched together at work as the Yankees took the ALDS
against the Oakland A’s after dropping the first two games at home. Then they
went on to defeat Seattle in the ALCS, but lost the Series to Arizona in 7
games. Nothing has brought back memories of that season more than Moneyball, Bennett Miller’s first
feature since 2005’s Capote. Moneyball forced my perspective on the
Division series to change, positioning the audience into empathizing with
Oakland, three times on the brink of knocking down the mighty Yankees, but
unable to make their $40M payroll compete with the Yanks’ eleventy billion. Who
on the east coast knew that 3000 miles away, there were legions of fans
immensely disappointed by the result of that Game 5? In the wake of disaster,
New Yorkers certainly didn’t care. Watching the opening scenes, instead of
reliving the joy of seeing the Yankees win, I felt the frustration and defeat of
Billy Beane (Brad Pitt), General Manager of the A’s, as he sits alone
contemplating how he can possibly manage a team with less than one third the
payroll of the biggest behemoth in professional sports.
The success of Moneyball
is not that it makes us cheer for Oakland, but that it ties their successes and
failures so tightly to Beane, and that the script by Steven Zaillian and Aaron
Sorkin paints him as a sympathetic character, not only in his desire to improve
his team, but also as a human being and father to his 12-year old daughter.
Miller’s film is based on Michael Lewis’s book Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game,
about the way Beane and his hired hands used statistics in a new way to mold a
team that could compete with significantly higher payrolls. Lewis, a financial
journalist, also wrote the book on which The
Blind Side was based, making him perhaps the most interesting and most
successful provider of sports film source material.
The somewhat fictionalized (or embellished) storyline has
Beane meeting with the Indians’ GM with an eye toward acquiring better ball
players. What he comes away with is far more valuable than any base-stealing,
power-hitting first baseman could provide. He finds Jonah Hill, taking a brief
hiatus from his roles as the overweight and funny sidekick to play Peter Brand,
a statistics analyst whom Beane hires to provide insight into his scouts’
player selection. The method of analysis, known as Sabermetrics, was developed
by baseball historian Bill James, given a hat tip in the script, which attempts
to make the case that it was this method that brought Oakland to the brink in
2002 and ultimately won the Boston Red Sox their first World Series in 86
years.
It’s a nice little fairy tale, one that makes for good
sports drama, but I think the verdict is still out on whether Sabermetrics
alone can be responsible for winning a championship. After all, Oakland still
hasn’t even been in a World Series since Beane started using it nine years ago.
Still, after an abysmal start to the 2002 season, they ended up winning 103
games to take first in the division, aided in great part by their
record-setting streak of 20 wins from August 13 to September 4. The dramatic
narrative has this improbable feat accomplished after Beane breaks his own rule
about having any involvement with the players, when he first enters the
clubhouse to break up the revelry led by Jeremy Giambi after losing a game. He
promptly trades Giambi, makes a few other in-house change-ups, and the team
starts winning.
Somewhat unbelievably, Beane and Brand are presented as
the lone voices of the new – a team of Davids against the mighty Goliath of
experienced MLB scouts and managers. After having his voice go unheard, the A’s
lead scout quits and disgruntled manager Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman)
grumbles that he’s not been given a winning team to field. The reality is that
Howe received a great deal of the credit for his team’s winning season, while Moneyball tells us it was Beane’s
decision to embrace something different.
However, it’s Beane’s journey as a baseball man and a
family man that drives the heart of the drama. In addition to making somewhat
compelling drama out of a MLB season whose results we already know, this is
what the film does best. A series of flashbacks highlighting Beane’s
short-lived and less than thrilling MLB career as a player after some very
promising prospects out of high school paint a picture of a man out to protect
future acquisitions from the crushing disappointment he experienced and to
redeem himself for choosing money over college. Even if he doesn’t achieve
redemption in the public’s eye, it will do for his own sense of purpose.
The film’s best moments of writing are those involving
Beane’s ex-wife Sharon (Robin Wright) and his daughter, Casey (Kerris Dorsey). There’s
great naturalism in these scenes, as when Beane has to pick up Casey and has to
awkwardly wait with Sharon and her new husband while waiting for the girl to
arrive. The interaction feels just right and Beane delivers the perfect
response to Casey’s step-father when he suggests they all hash out some rules regarding
Casey’s cell phone. Better still is the development of the relationship between
Beane and Casey, including a sweetly touching moment when they’re shopping for
a guitar and she sheepishly plays a bit of a song she wrote, a song that sums
up their relationship and sets in motion the impetus for Beane’s final decision
in the film.
Dorsey is a real find, a wonderfully subtle young actress
who could have a bright future. She’s effortless. Pitt plays Beane as a
defeated man, shoulders hunched and face sunken. When he’s taking a meeting
with the Red Sox at the end of the film, he’s able to hold his head high
regardless of his ultimate decision based on a resolution never again to make a
decision based on money.
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