61
I’m not much of a sports fan. Winning a game is not my idea of triumph. Neither is war for that matter. In fact, to be triumphant is not much in my books. I got a problem with dividing people into winners and losers. Realistically, we are. We’re split right down the middle. And the ultimate goal in life seems to be to reach number one. Never settle for second best. And being second best means you’re a loser.
I have not psychologically and philosophically reconciled the human quest to compete–to be number one–to break all records. I don’t believe the need to compete is born out of some Darwinian limited resources thing. Perhaps there is some tie-in to our primitive prehistoric self. And current sports obviously have their roots in ancient Rome.
But whether or not this is some inate drive or one born from capitalism and the need to dominate, to have power over others. And is it a need or a want?
What’s the reason for this line of questioning? Because it informs the quest to find out “what is a story,” or what makes a good story.
Our emotions are wrapped up in the win/lose aspects of a game–and it’s by no means just an American thing. I’ve known men–many men–who only express themselves emotionally during a game, either playing or watching. And, it’s one of society’s most puzzling issues is men expressing themselves or being able to talk.
We celebrate the strong, silent type. Yet, most wives can’t talk to their husbands. This guy could be a winner in every respect: captain of a football team, successful company or job, lot’s of friends, well-respected. But you’d never know what he feels.
The creation of the alpha male–a winner–is not the theme of 61. It’s a movie about hero worship. And we read all kinds of things into the act of hitting a ball with a club. We identify with Mantle and Maris as two heros striving to be their best. We admire their friendship even though they are competing to beat a world record. We are carried along with them as they face adversity. This is the stuff of stories.
But there are questions I ask that I strongly suspect no other fans of this movie are asking. I’m wondering about Maris’ wife and I’m wondering about all the fans that worshiped Mantle and Maris, or fans of any other sports hero.
I’m going to draw a quick parallel, because this is a running theme for me in understanding human nature, and ultimately what movies and stories are about. We focus on Hitler and not the 3rd Reich or the citizens of Germany. One man stands above all the rest.
We create Gods and demi-Gods and Anti-Gods and they get all the attention. What about Maris’s wife? Was she just a housewife and a child bearer who rooted in the stands every time her husband hit a homerun? What about all those fans, their stories, their lives, there loves, hates, wins and losses?
Well, stories can’t be told about a group. Stories must have a protagonist and an antagonist. There was no real enemy in 61. There were obstacles, like Babe Ruth’s record, a team owner that could trade a player at the drop of a hat, a beligerent press, and the pressure of a crowd hungry for satisfaction.
There was some tension and conflict created by Mantle’s drinking and philandering. But both vices were downplayed so much so they carried little weight in terms of how Mantle was judged as a person.
This calls to mind another delimma–heroes can do no wrong. We, the fans, will excuse the most horrendous behavior. But, this is true only in some cases, and I think there’s a lot of hypocracy in this regard. We also like to tear down superstars from their ivory towers. Only recently has the press had a field day with Britney Spears empty marriages, Mel Gibson’s drunkeness and anti-Jew remarks and Tom Cruise’s jumping up and down on the Oprah Winfrey show. To a lot of people–this stuff is news. These careers were nearly destroyed. What could be more devastating than Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction?
Sorry, I have to gossip for a minute. I don’t get the Tom Cruise thing. Supposedly he was demonstrating excitement for his new found love, Katie Holmes. He was just married to one of the most beautiful and talented actresses in Hollywood, Nicole Kidman. Is this guy a little greedy or what?
Out of all the body of work Janet Jackson has contributed to the history of music, all her concerts, her dancing, her relationships and the very essence of her being, she is reduced to one single regretful act during 1/2 time at a football game.
Meanwhile, her brother Michael, has fans that would literally die for him, so it seems, and steadfastly deny all the claims about his alleged sexual orientation and plastic surgery operations.
So, what amazes me about hero worship, beyond the fact that most heroes happen to be in sports and music, is how denigrating and self-deprecating the worshipers are. We think of ourselves as small. Some of us get so negative we tell ourselves and those around us that we’ll never amount to anything. Why even bother entering a race when you were born a loser?
Then there are those who think they are winners, but no one else does. We applaude generals who win battles and wars without the slightest thought or feeling for the 1000s who lost their lives…UNLESS, the lives lost are on the winning side.
Well, I’ve read far too much into this movie than what is there. For Billy Crystal, it’s a display of hero worship and an ode to two of the most famous players in baseball history.
Screenplay note: Screenwriters are always searching for ideas for stories. Of course, one of the easiest is historical figures. The story is already written. The subject matter is well known. Braveheart was unique in that Gibson picked a lesser known historical figure–educational is not a dirty word. The bio I’d love to see is on Bill Gates. The Beatles runs the risk of the look-a-like contest that has happened with Elvis and Sinatra/Rat Pack movies. I’ve never seen better acting than Helen Mirren in Elizabeth I. And I haven’t seen The Queen yet either. The same actress plays both Elizabeth I and Elizabeth II. How do you do that?
