The film "Moneyball" (2011) was almost an entirely different movie than the Hollywood hit that made its way into theaters two weeks ago. In 2009, production on the movie was axed after director Steven Soderbergh replaced many of the script's scenes with actual interviews with the subjects of the film. "It seems clear that [Soderbergh] became obsessed with authenticity," the Los Angeles Times reported at the time.
The high−ups at Sony Pictures Entertainment unsurprisingly freaked when they read Soderbergh's rewrite. Would they dare to invest $58 million in a documentary re−enactment art film? Please. The pursuit of authenticity is nice and all, but story arc and entertainment value are what wins at the box office.
Like the Billy Beane−built Oakland A's of the early aughts, the "Moneyball" movie team has enjoyed success since the film's release. Though unlike the underdog A's, who build a competitive team with severely limited resources by innovating the way they evaluate players, this team is Sony Pictures, which can afford the best movie−making staff money can buy and which does not need to change the way sports movies are made to win big.
"Moneyball" is currently rated 95 percent on Rotten Tomatoes, and critics have spent the last week writing about how "tight" the editing is, how "visceral" director Bennett Miller's game shots are and how "sharp" screenwriters Aaron Sorkin and Steve Zaillian'sdialogue is. They've also waxed poetic about the emotive power of Brad Pitt gazing upon the horizon while driving his car in laps around the stadium.
And look — they're absolutely right about all of those things. This movie is entertaining and funny from start to finish. Its discussion of the scientific analysis A's general manager Billy Beane and his assistant (depicted in the movie as a version of stat guru Paul DePodesta named "Peter Brand") used to keep Oakland competitive with the rest of the league is accessible — some would say watered−down — enough to engage those who have never watched a baseball game in their lives.
What the executives at Sony should have believed more is that Michael Lewis' book already has all of these qualities, and does not need the extra Hollywood touch of corny scenes with Beane's daughter or Beane giving the A's a pep talk in the locker room. And I'm not just saying this because I am a sports fan.
"Moneyball" (2004) the book revolves around a baseball maverick risking his job to stick it to the establishment. Plus, it has the underlying story of Beane's own failure to live up to scouts' expectations and succeed in the big leagues, which drives his desire to more accurately evaluate players. It doesn't have the drama of a World Series championship, but this story has revolution and redemption by the boatload. Think "The Social Network" (2010), a movie so great not because of its romance but because of the idea of a couple of brilliant college kids changing the world.
Yet this movie is undermined by its insistence on giving us contrived romantic moments. To be fair, these are few. The first quarter or so of "Moneyball" is great entertainment without sacrificing anything beyond dumbing down sabermetrics to a discussion of the value of on−base percentage (how often a hitter gets on base).
Then the film cuts to Beane buying his daughter a new guitar. The scene's cute, no doubt, and Pitt's charisma shines when he compliments his daughter on her voice and asks her to sing for him.
But even as my heart was warmed by the sweetness, it itched at me that this scene was designed to make me warm to Beane, to get me Emotionally Involved. "Moneyball" wasn't comfortable enough in its skin to risk me feeling otherwise.
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Ben Kochman is a junior majoring in English. He can be reached at bkoch.tufts@gmail.com or on Twitter @benkochman.
