Runtime: 2 hours, 8 minutes
Rating: PG-13
Director: Brian Helgeland
Quick Impressions:
If there’s one thing I love about baseball, it’s cotton candy. If there are two things…
Hmm. But there aren’t two things. Baseball’s never been my game. I enjoy a day at the ballpark as much as anyone, but if I’m being totally honest, I’m really just in it for the cotton candy.
To my pleasant surprise, however, the movie 42 is just as much of a treat as spun sugar and far more substantial. This is probably the first movie of 2013 that I can recommend without reservations to anyone (unless I’ve done that before and don’t remember).
The Good:
Basically, 42 is just a good, old fashioned, crowd pleasing movie.
Now, of course, I’m neither a historian nor a baseball fan, so I’m not claiming that this film is one-hundred percent historically accurate. In fact, because children could watch and enjoy it, I’m sure that some people will complain (with justification) that it grossly over-simplifies complex characters in a complicated period. (When I say that children can watch it, I don’t mean that it’s free from objectionable material. On the contrary, Alan Tudyk plays the most conspicuously obnoxious racist I’ve seen in a mainstream movie recently. But there’s not even the slightest suggestion that he’s confused or well meaning. Certainly there is no possibility that he is right! At best, he may be slightly oblivious to the amount of hurt he causes—which seems too generous an interpretation. Shades of gray are not what 42 is all about. You don’t watch and wonder to yourself, “Hmm. Whoever could be correct—the kind, progressive Jackie Robinson supporters or the horrible, abusive, violent racists? It’s such a moral dilemma! Maybe there is no right answer!”)
This movie features completely sympathetic protagonists portrayed in an entirely positive light. So if you’re an adult and the slightest bit cynical then maybe you watch with the nagging suspicion that Branch Rickey’s motives weren’t really so noble or that Jackie Robinson probably had feet of clay that the film leaves unexplored. But if you just accept that you’re watching a movie (with a movie’s limitations), then you ought to leave the theater more than satisfied.
Basically, if you watch 42 and don’t feel a thrill of excitement and satisfaction as Robinson succeeds in the face of adversity, then you need to do some soul searching immediately. (Now I’m not going to accuse anyone of being racist. I mean, maybe you’re just a misanthrope in general or you hate everything or a foul ball killed your fiancée the night before your wedding or you’re an embittered professional film critic. I don’t know you.) Without insulting anyone, though, I can safely say that most average American filmgoers will enjoy this movie.
In some ways, it’s very refreshing, a big budget, mainstream, conventionally presented feature with a strong story, a solid script, good performances, and a clear, palatable message. It’s less about baseball than what it means to be an American and a human being. The film’s strong condemnation of discrimination, prejudice, and cruelty seems both timely and timeless. Like all historical fiction, 42 is definitely about this moment as well as the era depicted onscreen. At times it does feel a little stagey, self-conscious, and contrived—you never, never forget that it’s a movie. But the cinema today might enjoy greater popularity if more movies remembered that they were movies, designed first and foremost to connect with an audience. For a film so driven by its message, 42 is an astonishing crowd pleaser.
The cast is great. After watching his work here, I can’t believe that I know nothing about lead actor Chadwick Boseman. Not only is he a talented actor, but he’s handsome and charismatic with the kind of screen presence that makes a star. Nicole Beharie (as Jackie’s wife Rachel) is wonderful, too. The two have amazing chemistry that feels so natural that if someone told me they were also married off screen, I’d believe it. Honestly, Boseman and Beharie make the Robinsons so attractive, sympathetic, and believable that there were moments when I thought, I wish I were them. They just seem wonderful, so happy!
Now when you consider that in the movie they are routinely on the receiving end of insults, attacks, and death threats, that’s a pretty amazing statement. But as played by Boseman and Beharie, the Robinsons are such a beautiful, confident, and happy couple with palpable love for one another. They just seem like really great people. Their centered, enduring self-respect and measured, thoughtful behavior makes them so attractive, particularly when they stand together against such unprovoked viciousness.
Honestly, I think Boseman deserves some Oscar buzz. (Maybe not an actual nomination. There are only five slots, after all, and it’s early in the year.) But people ought to be talking about his performance. He’s amazing (and very likable) in the role. And Beharie is absolutely gorgeous and perfect in the part. Both of them should be in more movies.
As grizzled, determined Brooklyn Dodgers owner Branch Rickey, Harrison Ford is also fantastic. I will admit that in his first couple of scenes, I felt some initial uncertainty. Is his voice a little overdone? Is he, maybe, hamming it up a little too much? After a very short while I decisively concluded, “No. Harrison Ford is playing the part just right.” A man with the courage of his convictions, Rickey comes across as increasingly heroic as the movie progresses. The character is written in a most attractive way. For one thing, he never pretends that he is doing anything great. From the beginning, Rickey downplays the moral reasons for making this move to his associates. And every time he talks to Robinson, he frankly acknowledges that Jackie is the one performing a grueling feat of heroism, suffering for a just cause. Rickey also gets some fantastic lines. Really, he has practically all the best lines, and Ford delivers them with appropriate panache.
I’d love to see Ford take on more projects like this. He does so much with his face. (Rewatch The Fugitive, and you’ll see how much Ford’s facial expressions contribute to that Oscar nominated performance. He’s doing something similar here.) Harrison Ford has legitimate star power that he ought to be using more often in meaty, sympathetic roles like this. I’d love to see him snag a Best Supporting Actor nomination (though that seems unlikely because this movie is such a crowd pleaser instead of being edgy, risky, or depressing). I realize that some will think he’s chewing a little too much scenery, but I honestly think it’s the best role he’s done in years. The audience loved him. His jokes got laughs.
The supporting cast is deep. Every ten seconds or so, I saw someone I knew but couldn’t quite place. Particular standouts are T.R. Knight as Rickey’s right hand man, John C. McGinley who as the announcer makes a potentially throw-away role unbelievably memorable (while Robinson is stealing bases, he’s stealing scenes), and Andre Holland as the trustworthy Wendell Smith. Christopher Meloni makes an impression as Leo Durocher, but his character is dropped a bit too soon and never taken up again. (I suppose that can’t be helped. It is a true story.) Alan Tudyk is marvelous as the disgustingly racist creep that everybody loves to hate. And I also liked Max Gail as Burt Shotton.
The costuming, set design, and soundtrack of the movie were fantastic too, all very period. Watching it, I couldn’t help marveling that my maternal grandparents (to whom I was extremely close) lived in this world. They were both born in 1918. As the story opened, my grandpa would have been coming home to his family after the war. When I take the time to think of how much our society has changed since then, I truly marvel.
This movie is pretty heavy-handed in its moralizing, but you’d be hard pressed to find someone who doesn’t agree with it. One of my favorite things about 42 is how it asks us to think about change and how change happens. Branch Rickey has a great line about sympathy, and we get several powerful object lessons about how the experience of knowing someone can change people’s minds. Time and again we see (very clearly, more clearly than we’d be able to see in real time events without a contrived narrative) how racism is handed down within a community and allowed to flourish because of societal pressures within that community. But we also see how quickly that can be undone, how willing most people are to accept new ideas once they are actually confronted with a particular case instead of an abstract principle. And of course, we also get several effective illustrations of how quickly people will recoil from flawed ideas when they are carried through to their most ugly extremes. Nobody wants to be like Alan Tudyk’s horrible character.
Funniest Scene:
As Branch Rickey, Harrison Ford has basically all the best lines, which he delivers with cigar-chomping aplomb. (“He’s a Methodist. I’m a Methodist. God is a Methodist.”) Given the extremity of their situation, Robinson and his wife also respond to adversity with astonishingly good humor. Here and there, all kinds of clever lines pop up that drew genuine chuckles from the audience. Lots of people also laughed at a prelude to a shower. And I personally really enjoyed T.R. Knight’s nervous approach to suggesting a photo-op.
Probably my favorite jokes of all came from John C. McGinley who wowed me so much as the announcer that if I ever need a game called, I plan to hire him.
Best Scene Visually:
This is a pretty movie.
One of my very favorite scenes shows Jackie and Rachel walking down a corridor after their wedding ceremony. They look so lovely. For one thing, their costumes are gorgeous, but they are also so visibly in love and full of hopes and dreams for a bright future. In the background, a song my grandma liked was playing. I’m trying to remember what it was. (I think “Moon Glow.”) That whole scene is just so aesthetically pleasing. I remember watching it and thinking, My Grandma would have really liked this movie. (Something about the scene reminded me a little of The Cotton Club which was one of her favorite movies.)
Right then it hit me that what makes this movie so amazing is its moral sensibility. So often in films these days, we see twisted people doing crazy things. But 42 glorifies normal people behaving well, something all too rarely seen on the big screen. Having the courage to do what is right has never looked so good. 42 suggests that having self-respect and behaving with similar respect and compassion for others—in other words, being moral, being “good”—is an attractive way to behave that leads to happiness, success, and fulfillment. It’s like Mr. Rogers for adults. If you’re a good neighbor and you’re kind to your neighbors, the neighborhood will be so much nicer for it.
Branch Rickey gets a laugh for the line, “He’s a Methodist. I’m a Methodist. God’s a Methodist.” And he’s definitely looking for that laugh. But as time goes on, we see that he’s not kidding, not really. Of course, Rickey is not saying in earnest that everyone must be a Methodist. But he does care about following his conscience. He pretends to be doing what is expedient, but he’s actually looking to do what is right, and in this movie, the people who follow a (properly functioning) moral compass prosper.
Best Scene:
The scene with Rickey and Robinson in the tunnel with the light streaming in around them seems iconic, and it does definitely represent a turning point for Jackie Robinson, so perhaps it is the best scene, particularly when coupled with the scene just before featuring a nasty but unforgettable turn from the ordinarily more lovable Alan Tudyk. I think it’s pretty safe to say that nobody wants to be Alan Tudyk, not then, not now. That’s a brilliant demonstration of how hatred undermines and destroys itself. Then when Rickey and Robinson have their private chat, we get another pretty amazing illustration—maybe everyone wants to be Jackie Robinson, but not everyone has the courage. So if you do have the courage, you’ve got to be brave for everyone else who falls short but dreams big.
I also liked the scene when Robinson leaves down on a train, and the children chase after him. One child presses his ear against the track and says, “I can still hear him!” For some people, this might be too contrived, but I think it’s a sign of good, solid film making that will please a wide audience.
Best Action Sequence:
The part when Robinson is stealing bases in training camp is pretty exhilarating to watch.
The Negatives:
This is going to sound totally unreasonable, but I’d like to know what those extremist racists are thinking. Now I’ll definitely go ahead and admit that this is unfair. (“I don’t understand racism, and this movie fails to explain the reasons behind that phenomenon. Points off, movie.”) Obviously, one movie is not going to answer all my questions about an ongoing problem that has plagued the human race since, I suppose, forever.
I do wish, though, that the film had humanized the racists a bit more. Now, the casual racists get quite a bit of exploration. (In fact, much of the movie is pointedly about the fact that average people are sometimes too scared, too lazy, or too ignorant to do what is right. It’s not that they want to be bad people. They just need some extra help to begin to behave like good people. That kind of thing, I thought the film presented very well.)
But I want to know what’s going through the head of the guy who seems to be the harbinger of the Klan when he comes to the house and warns Robinson to get out of town. I cannot imagine ever feeling that it is my responsibility to run undesirable people out of town, but then, I’m not an old, white man living in the late 1940s. Presumably these people aren’t trying to be evil. Do they see themselves as protectors of the weak and innocent against the horrible threat of some kind of fetishized, demonized Other? By nature, I’m just not very bossy or concerned with what other people are doing, so I’m quite perplexed (as well as appalled, naturally) when some people go out of their way to inflict cruelty on others for no apparent reason.
I think also that the movie is too nice to the casual racists. Yes, it’s probably true the some of them were just confused, potentially unaware of what kind of adversity Jackie Robinson faced, well-meaning but either lazy or frightened. But you’ve got to think that a jerk like the Alan Tudyk character probably imagines that he is speaking on behalf of a silent majority (most of whom are too afraid to speak up and say what they are thinking). And the thing is, he’s got to be (at least to a degree) right. He’s the only one being a loud-mouth, odious racist, but he’s surely not the only one who feels that way. Prejudices that are deep ingrained and enforced by personal ignorance and an insulated community don’t just melt away overnight.
It’s not exactly a bad thing, but the movie really made me think about those who go out of their way to persecute others. Why do they do it? Surely most people (sociopaths aside) want to be good and strive to be the heroes of their own stories. What could possibly be good about terrorizing others? I’m one-hundred percent against such actions personally, but surely the people performing them must think they are carrying out some kind of necessary task. (Do they acknowledge that it’s wrong but believe it to be a necessary evil to ensure some kind of protection of a weaker group? Do they actually believe they are doing what is right?)
This is a very satisfying movie as is, but it would probably be a better film if some of the characters were more morally ambiguous. I think the antagonists, in particular, needed more development. Many times, too, entire plot threads seemed superfluous. What was the point of the Durocher detour? I realized that it really happened, and Durocher was a compelling character initially, but then he just disappeared, and his replacement didn’t really do much. There were all sorts of moments and characters that felt like they needed more development.
But when would there have been time? The movie already felt long. Though the whole thing was enjoyable, towards the end, I just wanted them to hurry up and win already. Jackie’s last home run felt extra long since I’d made the mistake of drinking a medium Coke.
Overall:
42 is a great movie. It’s fantastically entertaining and morally edifying with a message that surely almost everyone in mainstream American society can embrace. (Now there may be some disagreement when it comes to subtext or potential practical applications, but surely everybody will acknowledge that racism is wrong and that treating others with respect and compassion is preferable.)
Before watching, I knew nothing about Jackie Robinson apart from his name. I certainly had no idea how much frightening hostility he endured to carve out a legacy as the first African American player on a Major League baseball team.
As far as I can see, 42 is a success on every level. It has a well-written script, solid performances, effective costuming and set design, a great soundtrack, and a story that will make audiences want to cheer. Even school-aged children would get a lot out of this, though they’d have to watch with parental supervision. (Bear in mind that the racist antagonists in this movie use crude and upsetting slurs and also threaten actual violence, so if you don’t want to talk to your kids about racism, you shouldn’t show them 42.) Know, too, that this isn’t really a biopic about Jackie Robinson. It’s a film focused on how he broke the racial barrier in baseball during a short, eventful period in his career. And even though it’s probably not going to win any Oscars, as far as your average audience is concerned, 42 knocks it out of the ballpark.