…with baseball movies. The last baseball movie I liked was, well, never.
There. I said it.
I’ve tried to avoid this fact for much of my life (minor exaggeration, but still), but I can no longer avoid it. Every so often, for whatever reason, everyone starts talking about their favorite baseball movies on the internet and those are some of the only times in my life that I am quiet. Because I have nothing to contribute.
I’ve tried, really, I have. I watched Field of Dreams with a tissue box by my side, sure I would be as affected by it as everyone else but I was snickering at the dramatic/heart-wrenching moment. I snored through Eight Men Out. And I absolutely hated Sandlot.
Which is why I’m worried about the Moneyball movie, which opens this Friday. I loved the book and have a bit of a Billy-Beane-is-a-rockstar thing going on, so I want to like it with all my heart. It’s just that my track record isn’t promising.
I think what I don’t like about baseball movies, actually, is what I don’t like about most “genre” movies. I don’t like horror or romance, although I often enjoy movies with horror or romance elements. I feel like so often baseball movies are too much about the baseball and not primarily a good film. Good cinematography, good acting, good script- that all seems to go by the wayside.
So my fingers are solidly crossed about the Moneyball movie.
And may I also just comment on what an absolutely bizarre looking cover this is?