Rated PG-13 for some strong language
Cast: Brad Pitt, Jonah Hill, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Robin Wright, Stephen Bishop
Director: Bennett Miller
The cinematic sports arena is one of few places where we can truly love a tragic figure. Not feel sorry for them, but genuinely love their flaws and forever root for their success. Such is the case with Billy Beane. One of the hottest baseball projects fresh out of high school, Beane was ultimately drafted by the New York Mets and offered a contract. His dilemma was that he was also accepted to Stanford University on a joint baseball-football scholarship, and could not both attend college and play pro ball. Team management officials sat in his kitchen and ultimately sold him on the idea that while an element of risk was involved in the decision (as is the case with all major decisions), this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. The only problem with once in a lifetime opportunities is they don't take into account the remainder of one's lifetime and how one would cope should he come out on the wrong side of that risk.
Beane made his decision, took the money, and joined the Mets organization. But, as what often happens in pro sports, he simply never panned out in the big leagues. There was no substance addiction holding him back nor a catastrophic injury that prematurely ended his career... there was no real explanation for his ineffectiveness against tougher competition. After bouncing around from team to team, he finally made the decision to surrender his playing days to become a scout. He did this, it would seem, as a form of punishment. Not just for himself and his failure as a pro, but for the entire scout system who, we sense, he holds responsible for instilling in him a false confidence he never earned.
Based upon the book by Michael Lewis, “Moneyball” is set primarily during the 2002 baseball season. Beane is the general manager of the Oakland A’s. The previous year, they had come up just one game short against the post 9/11 darling New York Yankees in the American League Division Series and all the radio talk involved the unfortunate inevitability that star players like Jason Giambi and Johnny Damon would be jumping ship for higher salaries in bigger markets. The story is about how Beane was forced to field a winning team with a miniscule payroll by studying the analytical principles of Bill James’ sabermetrics. The movie involves statistics and the classic underdog, but at the center is Beane himself. Brad Pitt plays him with charm, wit, melancholy, and a free-wheeling voracity to turn the tables on a seemingly unfair system. He practically stumbled into scouting, turned to unorthodox measures in desperation and, in at least some eyes, changed the way the game is viewed.
“There are rich teams, and there are poor teams. And then there’s fifty feet of crap. And then there’s us,” Beane explicates to his scouting department after listening to the group discuss such mundane qualities as whether a certain player has a good-looking swing or may have confidence issues indicated by an unattractive girlfriend. “You guys are talking like we’re looking for Fabio. We have got to think differently.” While on a trip to Cleveland to discuss trade possibilities with GM John Hart, Beane notices an unassuming young kid whispering advice during the meeting. He tracks the kid down later to find out his deal. This is Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), and he works as a “special assistant” for the Tribe. (The character is fictitious, but is based on real-life front office assistant Paul DePodesta.) He’s a Yale graduate with an economics degree and a love of baseball… and especially Bill James’ theories on player value being determined by statistical analysis. (“Your goal shouldn’t be to buy players. Your goal should be to buy wins, and in order to do that you need to buy runs.”) Beane lures Peter away from the Indians, and utilizing the sabermetrics approach to analysis, they compile a list of affordable players that just might make a winning team.
This obviously doesn’t sit well with the scouts, some of whom have silently resented Beane for years as they have most likely detected a disdain for the scouting profession. Nor does it sit well with manager Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who is in the final year of his contract and is forced to accept the new acquisitions, which he begrudgingly does though doesn’t start the players Beane wants him to. His actions, though, are bred more from pragmatism than antagonism. (“I don’t want to go fifteen rounds on this, Billy,” he calmly tells Beane. “The card is mine, and I’m going to run the team in a way that I can explain in job interviews this winter.” He makes a pretty salient point.)
The film was directed by Bennett Miller (“Capote”) and the script adaptation was by Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin, two virtually can’t miss Hollywood screenwriters. This is a supremely well-made movie. It might seem strange that a film about sports statistics is as involving as this one is, but the filmmakers accomplish here what Sorkin and David Fincher did with “The Social Network.” The characters and their motivations are far more fascinating than their accomplishments, though said accomplishments did make many sit up and take notice. The heart and soul of the movie isn’t the success of the team, but the bittersweet saga of Billy Beane himself… a man forever tortured by unrealized dreams who sadly believes that only in changing the game itself can personal restitution be attained.
While there are arguments on both sides as to whether sabermetrics does work, it’s worth noting (as the movie does) that the Boston Red Sox did win their first World Series incorporating the philosophy championed by Beane in Oakland. That happened two years after Beane turned down owner John W. Henry’s offer to be general manager for the Sox. It’s also a sad irony of sorts that low payroll teams like the 2003 world champion Florida Marlins and the 2008 American League champion Tampa Bay Rays have enjoyed more success than Beane’s Oakland A’s. But what I think makes Beane an endearingly tragic figure is that personal successes wouldn’t calm the demons that continue to haunt him. His redemption doesn’t come on the field, but in a scene at the very end as he’s driving down a desolate highway. He puts a CD in; it’s from his daughter, who loves him unreservedly but senses his pain. A familial love letter in the form of a serenade spills from the speakers. As his daughter’s lovely voice fills the car, we’re reminded that success can seem miles away, but salvation is always within reach.
* * * * out of * * * * stars
Beane made his decision, took the money, and joined the Mets organization. But, as what often happens in pro sports, he simply never panned out in the big leagues. There was no substance addiction holding him back nor a catastrophic injury that prematurely ended his career... there was no real explanation for his ineffectiveness against tougher competition. After bouncing around from team to team, he finally made the decision to surrender his playing days to become a scout. He did this, it would seem, as a form of punishment. Not just for himself and his failure as a pro, but for the entire scout system who, we sense, he holds responsible for instilling in him a false confidence he never earned.
Based upon the book by Michael Lewis, “Moneyball” is set primarily during the 2002 baseball season. Beane is the general manager of the Oakland A’s. The previous year, they had come up just one game short against the post 9/11 darling New York Yankees in the American League Division Series and all the radio talk involved the unfortunate inevitability that star players like Jason Giambi and Johnny Damon would be jumping ship for higher salaries in bigger markets. The story is about how Beane was forced to field a winning team with a miniscule payroll by studying the analytical principles of Bill James’ sabermetrics. The movie involves statistics and the classic underdog, but at the center is Beane himself. Brad Pitt plays him with charm, wit, melancholy, and a free-wheeling voracity to turn the tables on a seemingly unfair system. He practically stumbled into scouting, turned to unorthodox measures in desperation and, in at least some eyes, changed the way the game is viewed.
“There are rich teams, and there are poor teams. And then there’s fifty feet of crap. And then there’s us,” Beane explicates to his scouting department after listening to the group discuss such mundane qualities as whether a certain player has a good-looking swing or may have confidence issues indicated by an unattractive girlfriend. “You guys are talking like we’re looking for Fabio. We have got to think differently.” While on a trip to Cleveland to discuss trade possibilities with GM John Hart, Beane notices an unassuming young kid whispering advice during the meeting. He tracks the kid down later to find out his deal. This is Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), and he works as a “special assistant” for the Tribe. (The character is fictitious, but is based on real-life front office assistant Paul DePodesta.) He’s a Yale graduate with an economics degree and a love of baseball… and especially Bill James’ theories on player value being determined by statistical analysis. (“Your goal shouldn’t be to buy players. Your goal should be to buy wins, and in order to do that you need to buy runs.”) Beane lures Peter away from the Indians, and utilizing the sabermetrics approach to analysis, they compile a list of affordable players that just might make a winning team.
This obviously doesn’t sit well with the scouts, some of whom have silently resented Beane for years as they have most likely detected a disdain for the scouting profession. Nor does it sit well with manager Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who is in the final year of his contract and is forced to accept the new acquisitions, which he begrudgingly does though doesn’t start the players Beane wants him to. His actions, though, are bred more from pragmatism than antagonism. (“I don’t want to go fifteen rounds on this, Billy,” he calmly tells Beane. “The card is mine, and I’m going to run the team in a way that I can explain in job interviews this winter.” He makes a pretty salient point.)
The film was directed by Bennett Miller (“Capote”) and the script adaptation was by Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin, two virtually can’t miss Hollywood screenwriters. This is a supremely well-made movie. It might seem strange that a film about sports statistics is as involving as this one is, but the filmmakers accomplish here what Sorkin and David Fincher did with “The Social Network.” The characters and their motivations are far more fascinating than their accomplishments, though said accomplishments did make many sit up and take notice. The heart and soul of the movie isn’t the success of the team, but the bittersweet saga of Billy Beane himself… a man forever tortured by unrealized dreams who sadly believes that only in changing the game itself can personal restitution be attained.
While there are arguments on both sides as to whether sabermetrics does work, it’s worth noting (as the movie does) that the Boston Red Sox did win their first World Series incorporating the philosophy championed by Beane in Oakland. That happened two years after Beane turned down owner John W. Henry’s offer to be general manager for the Sox. It’s also a sad irony of sorts that low payroll teams like the 2003 world champion Florida Marlins and the 2008 American League champion Tampa Bay Rays have enjoyed more success than Beane’s Oakland A’s. But what I think makes Beane an endearingly tragic figure is that personal successes wouldn’t calm the demons that continue to haunt him. His redemption doesn’t come on the field, but in a scene at the very end as he’s driving down a desolate highway. He puts a CD in; it’s from his daughter, who loves him unreservedly but senses his pain. A familial love letter in the form of a serenade spills from the speakers. As his daughter’s lovely voice fills the car, we’re reminded that success can seem miles away, but salvation is always within reach.
* * * * out of * * * * stars
