Tag Team Movie Review: 42

OREL: Mrs. Orel and I caught 42 this weekend. Reportedly budgeted at $40 million, the movie is already a success, earning $27.3 million so far, the highest-grossing opening weekend for a baseball movie. Audiences polled by CinemaScore gave it an A+; critically, it's at 75% "fresh" at Rotten Tomatoes and has a 63 Metacritic score.

So it feels sacrilegious to criticize a project so pure of heart — and on Jackie Robinson Day! — but the ghost of Roger Ebert just threatened to kick my ass if we didn't provide a balanced review. Really, we wanted to embrace this movie and were ready to flood the Regency Village with our tears. And while we left the theater with even more love and respect for Jackie, we left dry-eyed.

MRS. OREL: There are many favorable aspects to this film, starting with the performances of Chadwick Boseman as Jackie and Nicole Beharie as Rachel. Heartfelt, disciplined work from both. I also appreciated Christopher Meloni as Leo Durocher, Andre Holland as the journalist Wendell Smith and Toby Huss as the coach Clyde Sukeforth. Lucas Black as Pee Wee Reese is a pleasure and Alan Tudyk succeeds in conveying the awfulness of the reprehensible Phillies manager Ben Chapman.

O: Agreed, the supporting cast is uniformly excellent, including Hamish Linklater as Ralph Branca and John C. McGinley as Red Barber.On the other hand, SoSG hero Harrison Ford essays the role of Branch Rickey by chewing so much scenery you worry the Ebbets Field bleachers might cut his gums. Director Brian Helgeland has teased out Ford's eyebrows with extensions, given him a stogie to chomp on and allows his jaw to jut and lips to curl with abandon. It's fun to watch but it's caricature, eyewitness approval notwithstanding.

MO: Indeed, so much pixie dust is used that it requires major league squinting to find glimpses of reality. Mark Isham's score is cloying and derivative. Caroline Harris' costumes are crisp, as if freshly unpackaged. The vintage cars are assembly-line shiny and every hairdo is sleek and perfectly Brylcreemed.

O: However, Don Burgess' photography is magical in creating an on-field intimacy in the baseball scenes. The visual effects work and Richard Hoover's production design are excellent in re-creating Ebbets Field, Shibe Park in Philadelphia, Crosley Field in Cincinnati and Forbes Field in Pittsburgh. The baseball sound effects are crisp and lively. Count Basie's version of "Did You See Jackie Robinson Hit That Ball?" even makes an appearance, albeit over the end credits.

Jackie and Rachel remain essentially the same people at the film's end as they are at its beginning.

MO: But at the center of 42 is the difficult promise Rickey drafts out of Jackie Robinson. The surety that no matter what horrible invectives are thrown his way he must never, ever lose it. Never rise to defend, fight or seek revenge. This was Jackie's monumental courage. He did not break the promise. Who of us could do the same?

O: Ultimately, the movie's respect for its source material is its strength and weakness. The burden of both institutional and casual racism are effectively presented, with Tudyk's portrayal of Chapman especially biting. Indeed, the film makes liberal use of the N-word, and every utterance feels like a beanball to Jackie's soul. But the filmmakers are so careful of Jackie's legacy they've included only one scene (reportedly fictional at that) dealing head-on with Jackie's stress and anger at his gargantuan task.

MO: Similarly, the loving marriage of Jackie and Rachel, so crucial to this story, is soaked in sugar. Are we to believe they never buckled or chafed at the consequences of that impossible contract? We are left with a tiny scene of Rachel, teary and leaning on Jackie's shoulder, after he's been deliberately hit on the head by a pitch.

O: Without those touches of humanity, Jackie and Rachel remain essentially the same people at the film's end as they are at its beginning; they just land on a bigger stage. We learn more about the legend than the man. Because he was a pioneer doesn't mean he wasn't human. It's The Passion of the Baseball Christ.

MO: In my version of Hollywood, Magic Johnson produces sequels to this movie. He convinces Spike Lee, or Bennett Miller, or Steve McQueen, to direct, and we get to see Jackie in the 1955 World Series, Jackie navigating family life as his son is sent to Vietnam, and Jackie at the very end. But 42 is what we have now and I have to like it for what it tells the world about Jackie and Rachel Robinson.

O: As a historical document and educational tool, 42 is a resounding victory. As a testament to the Robinson family, it feels lacking.

MO: They deserve more.

♦

Some random details I wanted to get off my chest:

• In a scene at one of the minor league stadiums, I thought I saw plastic seats in the background. Wouldn't this have been an anachronism?
  
• Speaking of nitpicking, "Baseball Writer's Association" in the epilogue? Two closed quotes around "42"? Where are the proofreaders at Warner Bros.? Back me up here, grammar geeks.
  
• The film ends in 1947, meaning there's no Vin Scully in it. Which is kind of a bummer.
  
• In researching Jackie, I was saddened to learn that Jackie's son, Jackie Jr., died in a car accident one year before Jackie himself died. It reminded me that Tommy Lasorda had a son, Tommy Jr., who died in 1991. And Vin's son, Michael, died in 1994. It turns out some major figures in Dodger history are connected by like tragedy.

UPDATE: One example of how 42 has made an impact, by former pitcher C.J. Nitkowski.

Vin Scully, on Villains

Vin Scully, from last night's telecast:

I was talking to Bill Shaikin, the fine writer at the LA Times, and he's going to write, I think, an article about the Giant-Dodger rivalry.

And we both agree something is missing.

The problem is, there are too many nice guys involved in the game.

No villain. Not yet, anyway, but no villain.

Oh and two.

You know, Barry Bonds was definitely a villain, Juan Marichal was a villain, Don Drysdale was a villain.

Leo Durocher was a villain, Tommy Lasorda was a villain, depending on where each name mentioned was as a visitor.

Jackie Robinson was a villain.

But it's different right now.

I can remember one day before a Giant-Dodger game in the old Polo Grounds in New York. I was in the clubhouse, which was about four hundred and eighty feet away from home plate. And as each Dodger came out of the clubhouse, the crowd would boo.

And all of a sudden it dwindled down, there were only two players, and me, in the clubhouse: Pee Wee Reese and Jackie Robinson.

And Pee Wee said to Jackie, I'll bet you I get more boos than you do.

And Jackie said, you gotta be kidding.

So Reese opened up the door as he started down the wooden steps. I mean they booed him out of the ballpark.

And Robbie sat there in the dressing room laughing.

And finally he said to me, Now watch this. He said, I'm sure that the Giants fans check off the name of each Dodger player who has left the clubhouse. I'll guarantee you they know I'm the only player left in the clubhouse.

And I swear to you, the door didn't crack open six inches — you couldn't see who was coming out — but the crowd knew it was Robinson.

And they went wild.

Two and two.

So, right now we're missing it, but in a tough pennant race, there might be a knock-down pitch, there might be something where both benches empty, the guys running from the bullpen, but something will happen, I am sure — or, if not, I will be completely surprised — between now and the end of the season.

Three and two....

Vin Scully, on Getting Tossed

Jocko Conlan and Leo Durocher.

Thank you and cheers to loyal SoSG reader, Beastie Boys aficionado and dispenser of masterful insight Dusty Baker for this transcription of Vin Scully from Sunday's telecast:

[Speaking re: Matt Kemp getting tossed from the game] I was thinking that was a long-distance toss by plate umpire Ron Kulpa. He was at least ninety feet...maybe a hundred feet away from Matt Kemp when he kicked him out. I believe it was all about that second pitch that was called a strike to Matt. And then of course it complicated matters when he hits into a double play.

Course, we've seen some really terrific kick-outs, but the best one I think ever, I mean the one I'll never forget, was in the Coliseum. Leo Durocher was coaching for the Dodgers and Jocko Conlan was the plate umpire. And Leo disagreed, and Leo liked to kick dirt on home plate. Far better than Lou Piniella. I mean, Leo really knew how to do it.

That's gonna go just fair...down the line into the corner. Stanton in pursuit and the Dodgers will have runners at second and third with one out. So Navarro, who had hit Nolasco in the past, is in there with good numbers against him, and he goes two-for-three today. So we have second and third, one out, and Jamey Carroll comin' up.

Anyway what Leo wanted to do was kick the dirt on home plate. And when he kicked, his spikes bounced off home plate and hit Jocko Conlan in the shins. Well Conlan — and he was Irish — he got furious, so he kicked Leo Durocher in the shins. And then Leo kicked Conlan in the shins, and here were two grown men...

They're gonna walk Jamey Carroll.

So two grown men are standing at home plate kicking each other in the shins. And [Vin chuckles] then Conlan threw Leo out. Well the payoff was Durocher realized when he cooled off, "Am I crazy? He's kicking me in the shins and I'm kicking him, but he's got shin guards under his pants." And there was Leo battered, bruised, and kicked out.

So, for Matt Kemp, it was a long-distance chase, and, at least that was that. Although they did have to restrain him. But that one was one for the history books.

Meanwhile, Carroll walks, the bases are loaded with one out, and here comes Clayton Kershaw, two-for-two.

Vin Scully, Outside the Lines

Mel Ott and Leo Durocher in 1942.

Vin Scully, from last Wednesday's game, at AT&T Park:

One of the differences, as I was looking down at the field, are the coaches' boxes. Up here they're not completely defined. The length of the coaching box is normal, but then the inside and outside line is very short.

One of the things that Leo Durocher always did when he coached at third, he would scratch out the lines of the box. No matter where he was, he'd scratch it out.

Here's the pitch to Casey Blake, that's a strike.

So what the Dodgers did, just to torment Leo, when he was managing the Giants, they had wooden coaches' boxes. In other words, they put wood down into the ground, painted it white, and no matter what he did, he couldn't scrape it out.

Oh and one the count. A little gamesmanship even back then.

Strike one pitch to Casey Blake, swung on and missed, oh and two. On deck, Andre Ethier.

'Course Mel Ott, the great Giant outfielder, hit over five hundred home runs, managed the New York Giants. Ottie, when he played right field, constantly pawed at the ground. You knew where he played most of the hitters, because the grass didn't grow there.

Oh and two the count to Blake, fastball high.

And then would you believe it, Mel Ott became the manager of the New York Giants, and twice a year, they had to replace the floor in the Giant dugout. He'd paw the wood out.

So, fun and games between the Giants and the Dodgers.

Two on, one out....

photo: Sporting News

Flashback: The Dodger Hillbillies

TV Land continues to make life worth living with the airing of a classic Beverly Hillbillies featuring Leo Durocher and YOUR LOS ANGELES DODGERS. Back in the day, Mr. Durocher was like Detective Munch, showing up in every show that could write a check. (Maybe due to his gambling habit)

In a memorable episode of The Munsters, entitled "Herman the Rookie" (4/8/65), Durocher believes Herman (Fred Gwynne) is the next Mickey Mantle when he sees the towering Munster hit long home runs. Football great Elroy Hirsch also appeared with Durocher. Three years earlier, he also appeared as himself in an episode of Mr. Ed, when the talking horse sought a tryout with the Los Angeles Dodgers. He also appeared on television in the early 1970s on the syndicated What's My Line? as a mystery guest.

But none of those appearances compares to his work on The Beverly Hillbillies, as he tries to sign Jethro to a baseball contract after discovering the idiot savant's pitching arm. (Note: For all you Comic Book Store Guys out there, Durocher was not actually manager of the Dodgers at the time. But if you can buy into the premise of this show, then historical veracity is the least of your problems)

Riveting stuff. Max Baer Jr's work as Jethro has only ripened with age. And the Dodgers could do worse than take a cue from Durocher and widen their net to fill out the pitching staff. May I recommend...