A Review of "Moneyball"

I read Moneyball when the book came out in 2003 and enjoyed it immensely. But as I entered the movie theater and took a seat, it wasn’t until then that I realized it had been roughly eight years since I carved through those pages like Andy Dufresne creating a home for his escape hammer. Baseball has changed so much since then, both in strategy and conversation.

The movie opens with actual footage from Game 5 of the 2001 ALDS in which the Yankees, losers of Games 1 and 2 at home, came back to win three straight and not only steal the series, but be one of the key players in snatching up the A’s stars during that following offseason. Now I happened to be in attendance for the aforementioned Game 5, so experiencing a certain level of chills along with a Costanza “I think it moved” moment within the first 10 seconds of the film were very much unexpected, but completely invigorating.

Anyone who is even mildly into baseball knows how this story goes, but revisiting it gave me a newfound appreciation for A’s general manager Billy Beane that I had long since forgotten. After losing Jason Giambi, Johnny Damon and Jason Isringhausen to free agency after the 2001 season, Beane was left with almost no choice but to counter the obscene financial disadvantages his club faced with a defiant middle finger to the old way, and a spirited embrace to a new way of thinking. Watching this, I couldn’t help but think of Bill Simmons, who did much of the same for the similarly trapped-in-time art of sportswriting. When these two began blazing their own path, which basically happened around the same time, they were universally beloved and celebrated for doing as much in such an inventive, previously unseen manner. The positive vibe has changed dramatically for sure, success tends to do that, but they set a new tone for countless others who have since followed. So while Billy Beane has yet to win a World Series as GM of the A’s, seeing the film certainly reinforced just how important his fearless, balls-on-the-table approach was back in 2002.

Now onto various aspects of the movie…

The Cast: In the book, Billy Beane came off as tireless, obsessive and arrogant to go along with an insatiable desire for junk food. Brad Pitt can do all of those things exceptionally well, including eat-act, a category in which he’s severely underrated. The way Pitt’s character ate the meatball sandwich at the end of Ocean’s Eleven is a fine example of great eat-acting. This film was no different. There are multiple scenes in which he’s devouring food and he’s top notch in all of them. Jonah Hill, who played the role of the guy who is supposed to be Paul DePodesta, was a pleasant surprise. He was funny and endearing and much to my surprise, he played perfectly off of Pitt.

Philip Seymour Hoffman: Yes, ‘cast’ is the category listed above, but Philip Seymour Hoffman’s body of work has rightfully earned its own slot. Hoffman played the role of notoriously stoic manager Art Howe. I found it endlessly amusing when I first learned he would be playing Howe, but considering Hoffman could somehow find a way to pull off the role of Danny Zuko, I was confident he would deliver. He did not disappoint. We can officially add “gruff, simple-minded meathead” to Hoffman’s already impressive resume.

People Playing Baseball: The baseball scenes were a nice mix of real game footage and staged game footage. The key here is for the staged game footage not to look like a Right Guard commercial and for the actors acting as athletes to… wait for it… look like athletes. Mission thankfully accomplished.

The Score: The score used for a good portion of the movie was more or less from the same family as the theme music to Friday Night Lights. It tickled the right sports nerves.

Disappointing, Cliche Moment: There was a scene where we’re led to believe Beane’s presence in the ballpark might be providing a jinx. Assisting us in being convinced of that belief were dark clouds moving in over the stadium. Safe to say that scene was a bit much.

Fashionably Obscene: Bobby Kotick played the role of A’s owner Steve Schott. Cheers to those responsible for outfitting him with a tremendous set of neg-burns.

Red Sox Owner, John Henry: This was a very minor role, but Arliss Howard made the most of it.

Familiar Voice: The same voice could be heard throughout the movie whenever the A’s were getting criticized on sports radio. The second time I heard that voice, I found myself awaiting a signature “shieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet” because the man sounded exactly like Clay Davis, though Isiah Whitlock Jr. is not credited anywhere as being part of the movie. Perhaps I just miss Clay Davis.

Watch Looks: I only looked at my watch once during this film. That’s impressive for a 126 minute sitting. To put that in perspective, I ate my watch during The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

[Photo via Getty]