One of the rare sports movies that has an intelligent approach to baseball, and which does not end with a game, “Moneyball” is an interesting movie, even though it projects a concept that I abhor, the overuse of statistics by announcers, writers and others who are not skillful enough to properly describe what they are watching.
Bill James’ use of statistics, the more arcane the better, may be a good way to judge talent, but those who use them to pontificate become very boring very soon. Maybe I’m a minority, but I don’t care how many hits a batter has in his last four, eight or 37 games, or in which time zone at what hour of the day. Give me his season average and tell me what is happening on the field.
Based on Michael Lewis’ book, subtitled, “The Art of Winning an Unfair Game,” this is a surprisingly cerebral story, and the story of the making of the movie is almost as interesting as the movie itself. It began with the book, of course. Stephen Soderbergh signed on as director and worked on the screenplay with Steven Zaillian. Just before shooting was to begin, a couple of years ago, Soderbergh was gone, the great Aaron Sorkin was signed to write the screenplay and Bennett Miller, an Oscar nominee for the brilliant “Capote,” was hired as the director.
The acting is outstanding. Brad Pitt is very good as Billy Beane, g.m. of the Oakland Athletics, though he is overshadowed by Jonah Hill, a sheer delight as Peter Brand, Beane’s shy, round-faced, lumpy, statistics-happy assistant based on Paul DePodesta, who was Beane’s assistant, and by Philip Seymour Hoffman, as Art Howe, manager of the team. But that’s no trick; Hoffman always is the best actor in any movie he’s in.
Beane’s opportunity arises when he gets the Oakland job for the 2002 season and is given a budget of $41 million for players. In contrast, the Yankees that year had a budget over $120 million. So Beane studied the rosters, looking for definite low salaries and possible surprising ability. He found some, he convinced his coaches to teach others. He turned Scott Hatteberg into a passable first baseman, he got career years from several players, and he cajoled, coerced and convinced some others they were as good as they were supposed to be.
He had to cope with a group of old-time scouts who believed they could find talent better than he, he had to deal with owners who always wanted more, he had to work with a manager (Howe) who knew he knew more than his boss, the g.m. But Beane had some usable tactics, too, like suddenly, without notice, trading one of Howe’s favorites to create more playing time for one of his. The confrontations are fun, and Hoffman, as the recalcitrant manager, is a gem. Brand (or DePodesta, but played with wondrous naivete by Hill), is hired away from the Cleveland Indians. He’s young, in awe of some of the players and an innocent in the way the game is played off the field. A simply marvelous portrayal.
There are some Cardinal connections, even if they’re rather slender. Howe finished his playing career in St. Louis as a reserve infielder in 1984 and 1985. Tony LaRussa managed the A’s for 10 years, starting in 1986, and then came to St. Louis as the Cardinals’ manager. Former Cardinal shortstop Royce Clayton turns actor, portraying Miguel Tejada. Bob Costas and Tim McCarver play themselves.
The Cardinals have used some of the statistical analysis, with some successes and some failures. But that’s what usually happens in baseball. It has to be played on the field, not in front of a computer screen or in the counting room. And players have to compete on the field — between the white lines, as they say.
Moneyball opens today on a number of screens.
—Joe