Jackie Robinson Movie Resonates

Rachel Robinson, widow of baseball pioneer Jackie Robinson, gave her blessing to the new film “42” about Robinson breaking the sport’s color barrier in 1947. Credit: Tim Farrell/THE STAR-LEDGER via USA TODAY Sports

The biggest irony connected to the release of the new, inspirational movie “42” is the fact that Major League Baseball announced the other day that it was appointing a committee to determine why only 8.9 percent of the sport is African-American.

Jackie Robinson‘s story is one of power and education about a shameful time in American history when there was less equality in society than there is now and when integrating the sport considered the National Pastime was a huge step forward for civil rights.

Robinson’s barrier breaking was a tremendous symbol for black Americans in the late 1940s. Now black people apparently aren’t that interested in playing baseball. When it comes to professional athletes the preference is for basketball and football. Baseball? Not so much.

As for the movie, if there is such a thing describing a book as a good read, this is a good watch. I don’t mean in the sense that it is a brilliant movie that will be nominated for all kinds of Academy Awards, but in the sense that it is well-done for the story it tells, has solid acting, appealing characters that you root for, and with the given Hollywood poetic license, pretty accurately tells the story. The scenes of tension were well-played and there is a lush character to the imagery that sets the viewer in the time.

Director Brian Helgeland’s movie is not a full-fledged biopic of Robinson, but it closely follows the experiences in his life over an 18-month period from the time the Brooklyn Dodgers sought him out to become the first African-American player in the big leagues in the 20th century through the end of his first season in the majors in 1947.

The more baseball history a viewer knows the more the tendency will be to nitpick, but I engaged in willing suspension of disbelief and wasn’t bothered much by a few minor detours from the real-life plot because the film-makers didn’t have all day for a showing, but worked within the parameters of two hours.

No, the Dodgers did not find Jackie Robinson on the road with his Kansas City Monarchs team at a gas station. But Robinson did do what the movie indicated at the gas station on another occasion. (I’m leaving that out so as not to spoil any plot points).

The people portrayed in the movie are real, identifiable people. That includes Branch Rickey, the Dodger leader who reached out to Robinson to break baseball’s color line, Harold Parrott, the despicable Ben Chapman, Leo Durocher, Clay Hopper, Burt Shotton, Red Barber, Happy Chandler, Wendell Smith, Enos Slaughter, Ralph Branca, Eddie Stanky, Pee Wee Reese, Spider Jorgensen (whom I once shared a ballpark scouting area in Alaska talking about his Dodger days), Kirby Higbe, Clyde Sukeforth, and of course Jackie and Rachel Robinson. Rachel is still living at 90 and gave her blessing to this film.

The well-cast actors do a good job, including Chadwick Boseman as Robinson, Harrison Ford as Rickey, Nicole Beharie as Rachel, Christopher Merloni as Durocher, Lucas Black as Reese and John McGinley as Barber.

Did the real life people say the exact same things ascribed to them in the movie? Of course not. But the Jackie Robinson story is legend and legendary and has been well-documented in print. The actual events the movie covers were reported on as they happened and were later summed up in memoirs and independently authored books. So is the dialogue word for word? Nope. But is the dialogue realistic? Yes.

Did Branch Rickey play a pioneering role in knocking down baseball’s doors barring blacks? Yes, he did. Did he do it precisely in the manner portrayed in the movie? Probably not. But close enough. He was a heroic figure in his own way, though when asked by Robinson why he was doing it (twice, actually), the Rickey character was blunt enough to respond by saying the Dodgers were in business to win ballgames and make money and Robinson could help them do both. That was included to ensure that cynics were placated with proof that Rickey was not merely an altruist. There is a second scene where Rickey adds another reason that is more admirable–and it is the short version of a story he told many times during his life.

For the naive few that believed American race relations became cozy with the end of the Civil War, this is a race primer that delves into the minds of the people that helped make this an insane country for African-Americans to live in for the many decades that followed.

Until the end of the first half of the 20th century when Robinson assumed the mantel and the pressures, the most famous black man in the United States was heavyweight champion Joe Louis.  He was a hero and an inspiration to many, but especially African-Americans. Louis’ reign was declining when Robinson’s status was rising and he took over that visible role. You can draw a linear connection from Louis through Robinson right through to President Barack Obama in tracing the progress of African-Americans.

Robinson took unbelievable abuse from fans, opposing players, and even some teammates as he conquered the role fate chose for him with dignity and class. There is a line repeated in the movie attributed to Robinson that is worth repeating here: “I’m built to last.”

He was.