Moneyball

I must admit that I myself am not a sportsperson. I do not follow sports, I do not watch sports, I do not take part in sports and I do not attend sporting events of any sort. While I admire the skill and talent that goes into a sports match or game, I’m mostly disinterested in the topic and more or less clueless about it; I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t know his club from his racket or his baseball from his basketball. In fact, there are only two things I know about baseball: one, the players try to hit something called a “home run;” and two, it’s a bit like rounders.

Okay, I’m exaggerating slightly, but I really am not a sportsperson in any way, shape or form; I feel I must stress this. So, when I was preparing to watch “Moneyball,” a baseball movie from Oscar-nominated director Bennett Miller (“Capote”), I was expecting to be perplexed by the rules and the tactics and the jargon that would no doubt be howled about again and again throughout the next couple of hours. And while yes, that did happen on occasion, and yes, it confused me to high heaven, I instead found myself more perplexed by something else, something rather unexpected: maths.

You see, “Moneyball” isn’t really that much of a sports movie, or at least not a conventional one. Yes, the plot revolves around baseball games and is a bit of an underdog story, but actual game-play is sparse, displayed only when it is necessary. The film instead focuses more on the frustrations of its protagonist, one of the men behind the scenes of a game, and the mathematical methods he uses to choose his players.

The film is based on Michael Willis’ 2003 non-fiction bestseller “Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game,” which was itself based on the true story of Billy Beane, the general manager of baseball team the Oakland Athletics. Playing Beane in this big-screen adaptation is the luscious Brad Pitt (“The Tree of Life”), who’s fast becoming one of the most reliable actors working today.

“Moneyball” shows us the 2002 season of the Oakland Athletics, who, in the opening scene, are beaten to a pulp by the New York Yankees. The determined and stubborn Billy is upset over the fact that he is going to lose three of his star players to free agency. He must also assemble a new team of players with a limited budget, but is unhappy with the current options of players.

It’s then that he meets Peter Brand (Jonah Hill, “Superbad”), a quiet and nerdy Yale economics graduate who works for the Cleveland Indians. Peter reveals to Billy that he has a unique method for figuring out the true value of baseball players: assessing them through some complex mathematical jiggery-pokery (don’t ask me to explain it). Billy is interested, hires Peter and takes his methods on board, much to the annoyance of the team’s scouts and manager, Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman, “The Ides of March”).

At first, Art and the scouts appear to be very justified in their opposition to Billy and Peter’s strategy; the new players, all supposedly undervalued, are absolute crap when it comes to playing a game. The team loses constantly, resulting in Billy becoming more and more frustrated; as he points out, he hates losing more than he loves winning. However, while it may result in him never working in baseball again, he doggedly sticks to Peter’s theory, which may or may not pay off.

Pitt and Hill both give rather understated dramatic performances here; I’d say this is more surprising for lively comic actor Hill, but then again I suppose it’s more surprising for Pitt, given the character he plays. Billy is characterised as loud-mouthed, stubborn and anti-establishment, but Pitt plays him with effective minimalism. Peter, on the other hand, is characterised as quiet and shy, and Hill plays him as such. As a bit of an odd couple, they have a commanding on-screen chemistry that is one of the reasons “Moneyball” is as engaging as it is and works as well as it does.

Another reason, possibly a bigger one, is that the film is written by two very talented and very Oscar-winning screenwriters. These are Steven Zaillian (“Schindler’s List,” “American Gangster”) and Aaron Sorkin (“A Few Good Men,” “The Social Network”). Along with Miller in the director’s chair, they have created a sports film that is uncommonly smart, sharply written and persistently engrossing. It has touches of humour, stacks of drama and a story that contains something of a powerful message: stick it to The Man.

They’ve made a sports film that one can watch and enjoy without the need to be a sports fan; as you can probably guess from the opening of this review, I of all people should know this. The story is an absorbing one; even if you don’t understand the mysterious ways of the baseball world, it’s easy to follow and even easier to connect with. It also doesn’t give in to cliché or formula too much, which is certainly a relief for this specific genre.

9/10