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Sunday, May 19, 2013
MOVIE REVIEW
42
The Story Of Branch Rickey's "Discovery"
Harrison Ford as Branch Rickey and Chadwick Boseman as Jackie Robinson in Brian
Helgeland's "42". Warner Brothers
by
Omar P.L. Moore/PopcornReel.com
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Sunday, May 19,
2013
Brian Helgeland's "42", which
proclaims to be "the true story of an American Legend", is instead the story of
Brooklyn Dodgers general manager Branch Rickey's "discovery" of Jackie Robinson,
who would become the first black player in Major League Baseball in 1947.
Unlike the hero it portrays Mr. Helgeland's drama plays things safe, delivering
a sanitized, surface-type treatment of Mr. Robinson and his entrance on the
American baseball stage. "42" is an exercise told within the lines, a
cookie-cutter digestible that feels like a made-in-the-1950s Hollywood film for
today's Millennial audience.
Mr. Helgeland's film, which begins in the Negro Leagues circa World War Two,
spends inordinate time showing various white characters salving their guilty
consciences and shifting mentalities about race and black people rather than
celebrating, exploring and unearthing Jackie Robinson as a three-dimensional
figure. This is the film's greatest disservice. The reality is that
"42" doesn't bring audiences Mr. Robinson's perspective -- the film isn't lensed
through his eyes.
Instead, a black sport journalist (played by Andre Holland), an "angelic"-type
figure often seen in "safe" Hollywood films, narrates parts of "42", and the film's remainder is about the
philosophies and character of Mr. Rickey (played with entertaining gusto and
nobility by Harrison Ford). Modern-day audiences who come into "42"
knowing little of Jackie Robinson to begin with -- the best film about him
remains "The Jackie Robinson Story", in which its title subject starred -- will
come out of "42" still knowing very little about the life or political dimensions of
Mr. Robinson.
To be fair, in the truest sense "42" is a baseball movie, not a biopic.
Mr. Helgeland's stilted and clichéd film intersects a bland and cursory
treatment of Mr. Robinson's life with the story of an endearing charismatic
young boy (Dusan Brown) who marvels at the icon's talents as he watches Robinson steal bases.
Yet, most of all, the heart of "42" is its benevolent paternal white figure in
Mr. Rickey, whose quiet and gruff fires of moral righteousness and religious
gilding underpins the film. As played by Mr. Ford, best known for his
earlier everyman movie roles ("Clear And Present Danger", "Frantic", "The
Fugitive") it is Rickey, not really Robinson, who appeals to conscience -- both
America's and the moviegoer's, in "42".
By contrast, despite the strength and power of Chadwick Boseman, in first-time
lead acting carrying gravity as the legendary Jackie, there's never a real
moment of first-person in-his-shoes drama, so that "42" in total is an
experience the audience is collectively (and strangely) removed from. What
should be a crowd-pleasing film rings deafeningly hollow. What should be a
scene of jubilation for the film's subject in the closing stages of "42" is a
moment where writer-director Helgeland opts for a lingering shot of Mr. Ford
wearing a big smile of satisfaction. It's an odd, problematic image at
best, though one entirely consistent with a film that nibbles around the edges
of Mr. Robinson, who is viewed almost exclusively through the eyes of everyone
else -- excluding himself.
I was left feeling unsatisfied and wanting so much more from "42", a sometimes
curious but tidy film that on paper screams grandeur and majesty with its
larger-than-life figure. Like Michael Mann's "Ali", "42" stumbles.
As I watched I could see that "42" was trying too hard, and that Mr. Helgeland's
script was disjointed, uncomfortable and incomplete. The film and its
title character deserved a better treatment.
No doubt "42" has one or two intense scenes of persistent racial vitriol.
One of these scenes is spoiled, and awkwardly so, by the fatherly presence of
Mr. Rickey. It's a scene where Mr. Robinson's pain, and perhaps his one
chance to connect with the audience and convey the emotional resonance of his
struggles, is dashed. The film's shifting episodes of brotherhood and
humanity amongst some of Mr. Robinson's Brooklyn Dodgers teammates and coaches
are effective, most especially Lucas Black as Pee Wee Reese, the famed Kentucky
native and Dodgers shortstop who embraced Mr. Robinson.
Still, "42" is about everyone else but Robinson, softening,
short-cutting and almost trivializing the meaning of the man. We merely
glimpse the loving and counseling relationship between Jackie and Rachel (played
engagingly and warmly by Nicole Beharie,
"Shame",
"American Violet".) Mr. Helgeland's film should have been called "The
Branch Rickey Story", as he is the main focus of "42". (In Mr. Helgeland's
defense the film isn't titled "Jackie", and in that way it is not quite as
egregious a diversion as last year's
"Django Unchained", which centered much more on
its white counterparts than the title figure.)
In short, the biggest mistake of "42" that this relatively brief film never
fully belongs to Jackie Robinson or Mr. Boseman. What endures is the
pageantry of iconography and the distinct feeling that Jackie Robinson is a 2013
commodity of yesteryear America rather than a full-blooded and dimensional human
being -- a commodity who is legendary but without sufficient depth. Mr.
Helgeland has blown a wonderful opportunity to make "42" one for the film
history books. One suspects that Ken Burns, in a documentary on Mr.
Robinson to be released next year on PBS television, will hit the home run where
Mr. Helgeland sensationally strikes out.
Also with: Christopher Meloni, Ryan Merriman, Hamish Linklater, Blake Sanders,
Alan Tudyk, Rhoda Griffis, Toby Huss, John C. McGinley.
"42", released in April, continues to
play across the U.S. and Canada. The film is rated PG-13 by the Motion
Picture Association Of America for thematic elements including language.
The film's running time is two hours and two minutes.
COPYRIGHT 2013. POPCORNREEL.COM. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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