Monday 13 May 2013

REVIEW - 42


There are at least 192 countries in the world. To date, 42 has received a theatrical release in two of them: Canada and the US. There are apparently no plans for an international roll-out, as far as I am aware. The message is clear - this movie is not for me. I'm not familiar with the exact rules of baseball, but I understand the basic points. I have only sat through one other baseball movie, Moneyball, and didn't find that to be an issue; were I an avid fan of the sport, I might have loved it, but I don't think a better comprehension of the rules of the game would have changed my opinion on it. The same is true for 42. 42 concerns itself only casually with the specifics of baseball. Its focus is on a baseball player, not the game, its theme is the contention of racism within the sport, and within American society in the 1940s, and its language is a simple, straightforward, universal tongue of directness and sentimentality. Not everybody may understand the difference between an infielder and an outfielder, not everybody may understand the English dialect, not everybody may understand what on earth Harrison Ford is trying to say, but when the rousing orchestral score soars and the amber glow of the cinematography shimmers in the background, and the jubilant montage of celebratory players and supporters is set in slow-motion, everybody understands. Brian Helgeland directs his own screenplay with both eyes on the intended effects it is so obviously tailored to have on viewers, and either hasn't noticed that each scene seems to start as if from a standstill or doesn't care (you can almost hear the word 'Action!' echoing back at the beginning of each new shot if you listen closely enough). There's nothing especially wrong with 42, but it's a defiantly artless film, and all of its slick technical features and accomplished performances matter a whole lot less when you consider that any hack could work such wonders with such trite material as this.



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