With a reference to World War II, we are immediately reminded of how the human economy transcends race when commerce is at stake. While there are a number of fanciful, uplifting, championing-of-the-human spirit moments, we are painfully reminded of the power of the dollar throughout 42, a film that – to paraphrase Rouchefeucauld – would make the world frown upon our best actions, if it only knew the motives that caused them.
In no way will I attempt to belittle Robinson’s achievement in civil rights or in major league baseball itself. At the same time, his recruitment into baseball was less about equality and more about product evolution. This is not to suggest that Branch Rickey (Harrison Ford), owner of the Brooklyn Dodgers, didn’t have soft spot for African Americans, but his procurement of Robinson built a brand and, slowly, merged quality players from the Negro League with major league baseball. In other words, the wealth of talent that lay outside of major league baseball would have eventually led to, penultimately, the dissolution of major league baseball as it was then known, and ultimately siphoned the incomes of the owners at that time. Instead, the first merger of leagues has bred the conglomerate that we know today.
The decision to discuss the race of ownership today and the races of the majority of players today is very tempting, but instead, I’ll just note that Rickey was certainly ahead of the curve and saw the future state of professional baseball’s talent.
And this is where much of the subtextual cynicism in 42 stems from. World War II combined blacks and whites in a fight against a common evil, an oppressive evil, a destructive evil. The face of Hitler provided excuses for partial integration, but when the visage of Hitler was erased, a return to the status quo was accepted. Mutually experienced PTSD – if such a thing were acknowledged then – would have been overlooked. Any kinship forged overseas was returned to amoebic ore once foot was set on American soil.
But the common fight against evil and the pursuit of free commerce served to unite. As did the need for club owners to continue to build their product.
If you’d rather prefer the uplifting moments of 42, that’s totally understandable and the film is built for such a journey. Robinson’s (Chadwick Boseman) debut with Montreal, his stolen bases, and his balk-inducing antics are replete with uplifting music. And it’s also complete with rather unnecessary exposition, a young boy in the stands explaining 1)the rules of a balk 2) the importance that Robinson “got in the pitcher’s head.”
Yes, he does, but this doesn’t seem worthy of an explanation. It seems enough that a man who’s figuratively pilloried before his first game gets on base, steals a couple of bases and scores a run is seen as a threat, no?
This is the glaring flaw in an otherwise well-made film: it seems to think that its audience can’t understand the true breakthrough. This is why, perhaps, the film alludes to the commercial impetus of Robinson’s recruitment, but doesn’t really dig too deeply into it. Perhaps this would seem to indicting of the American past, or even its present way of life.
But, it feels a bit ironic that a film about breakthroughs, a film about change, sticks to a well-worn script that lauds the triumph of the human spirit.
