It was inevitable that "42" (2013) would be made. Jackie Robinson was an underdog who overcame insurmountable odds to succeed beyond anyone's wildest dreams. It's a narrative arc that is overused because it works well. However, this success is not automatic, and "42" fails to put in the work necessary to make this story interesting.
"42" focuses on the first two seasons of Robinson's (Chadwick Boseman) historic career as he becomes the first African-American to play in Major League Baseball. Supported by Brooklyn Dodgers general manager, Branch Rickey (Harrison Ford), Robinson sets out to prove that he's not only as good as the white players on the field, but that he's better than them as well.
Though Robinson's story is remarkable, "42" is not content to just be a biopic. It tries to be a hagiography and almost immediately sets itself up for failure. Unless you're doing public relations for a figure, hagiography is boring, cliched and a waste of time for anyone who might be remotely interested in learning more about a historical figure.
As much as everyone parodies the biopics of musicians such as "Ray" (2004) and "Walk the Line" (2005) for chronicling talented men with self-destructive tendencies, at least these show us the man behind the myth, something that "42" doesn't.
The film begins with Rickey's decision to draft Robinson onto the Dodgers because he thinks it will improve the team's bottom line. As such, we're already introduced to Robinson at his prime. Even at the beginning, he is shown as a base-stealing virtuoso, the Mozart of running around the diamond. We have no way of identifying with or rooting for Robinson other than what our historical perception tells us to. There is no training montage or inkling explaining how he became so good other than a throwaway line referring to "natural talent."
So how does the film try to get us to sympathize with Robinson? By showing us how he persevered in the face of unflinching racism. While it is somewhat effective, it becomes annoyingly repetitive as the movie goes on. After the seventh instance of someone calling Robinson the n-word, you have to wonder whether a better starting point for the film would have been more appropriate.
While Robinson's experience with racism might have been shocking back then, the long delay in getting his story to the screen has seen the trope pre-empted by films such as "Remember the Titans" (2000) and "Glory Road" (2006), and it seems tired and beaten to death.
Perhaps I was being a little too hard on the film for portraying Robinson as a saint. After all, they do give him one flaw: a quick temper. However, given the circumstances the film itself shows him playing in, can we blame the guy? How long would you hold out if 2,000 people were calling you the n-word and threatening to kill you and your family?
On another note, "42" is also a boring film to watch. Nothing about it screams extraordinary. The music is ripped from a Lifetime movie, the acting is phoned in and the director takes the always interesting but never particularly welcome laissez-faire approach to making a movie. All of this adds up to a bunch of people who seem content to re-enact history without giving the rest of us a reason to care about it. If they don't seem to care, why should we?
I will applaud "42" for restraining itself from completely reversing racism. While most of Robinson's teammates do come around to accepting him, a select few hold out and I respect that. No matter how hard you try, you cannot kill people's ideas of racism and I respect "42" for illustrating this theme. It does not, however, hesitate to take potshots at those players in the film's epilogue, suggesting that maybe this intent was an accident.
"42" is currently playing at the Nugget.
