Here's To You, Mr. Robinson

42

*** out of ****

Directed by: Brian Helgeland

Starring: Chadwick Boseman, Harrison Ford, Nicole Beharie, Christopher Meloni and Andre Holland

Running time: 128 minutes

In his first season with the Brooklyn Dodgers, Jackie Robinson – the first African-American athlete to play in the major leagues – was named Rookie of the Year. In 42, a biographical picture about him from L.A. Confidential scribe Brian Helgeland, one learns that Robinson also led the league with a more infamous statistic: the number of times hit by a pitch.

Although the film is conventional, it hits its story beats with pride. Helgeland does not proclaim Robinson’s greatness for him; instead, the film shows a more multi-faceted glimpse at the American hero at its centre, depicting the bigotry that Robinson faced and how he braved it admirably.

As Helgeland examines, Robinson’s catapult from the segregated Negro leagues to the Brooklyn Dodgers was an economic strategy from team executive Branch Rickey (Harrison Ford). As Rickey munches a fat cigar and schmeckles at managers who gape at his decision, he explains that it does not matter whether the players are white or black, since “every dollar is green.” 

Robinson is hired not just for his gritty athleticism, but also to feed the demographics. If the film was not up to par, then I would compare Rickey to whoever greenlit this film. #42, however, is quick-tempered against the racial intolerance of postwar America. Rickey tells Robinson that he has to turn the other cheek. If he fights back against racism on the field, the public will label him as a vicious hound and demand he leave the league.

As #42, fresh-faced Chadwick Boseman is magnetic, with both a charm and intensity that recall a young Denzel Washington (an actor who was also considered to play Robinson onscreen in the 1990s).

Boseman is leaner than Robinson but gets into meaty territory during several of the moments where his character is tested psychologically by jeers from the crowds, some slimy umpires and a harsh, bigoted manager (played by Alan Tudyk) who chirps out the “N” word with the gusto and speed of an auctioneer.

The best moments in the film are the scenes between Ford and Boseman. Ford’s Rickey is more than just a gravelly-voiced Clint Eastwood impression; although he looks like a cartoon, he is the closest thing Robinson gets to a motivating support figure. Thankfully, Helgeland does not credit the white executive for Robinson’s success, nixing any form of white supremacy over the subject.

Nicole Beharie is also terrific (despite limited screentime) as Robinson’s supportive wife, Rachel, who is daunted with having her husband receive drubbings from fans.

The film has a restrained, neoclassical visual style in the off-field scenes, which ensures that the moments on the diamond pop. It is a thrill to watch Boseman as Robinson, rubbing dirt on his hands at the plate, scampering around the bases with a dirty jersey and clean smile, and intimidating the pitchers who eye him caustically as he prepares to steal a base.

As the film only tracks two years and stays entrenched with the sport for much of the running time, there is a curiosity to know more about the man behind the number. Helgeland gives much screen time to Robinson’s teammates and managers, many of whom are simplified into bigoted caricatures wary of Robinson’s conspicuousness – to the extent that #42 was embarrassed to have a post-game shower with the rest of the team.

42 is too conventional to become an instant classic, but writer/director Brian Helgeland does a fine job at sticking to the humanity of a terrific sports story. Yes, there are a couple of moments where sappy music over montages of cheering crowds lays on the schmaltz too thickly. Most of the film, though, is riveting, especially when Helgeland looks inward to Robinson’s turmoil, both on and off the field.