MOVIES: The unintentional enjoyment of The Little Panda Fighter

Watching an insanely bad movie with absolutely no intent of finding enjoyment from it is something you either 'get' or you don't. I've always enjoyed it: beyond the obvious classics like Ed Wood, Battlefield Earth or The Room, it's led me to surprisingly horrible stuff like the animated children's version of Titanic.

Actually, I've seen both of them. I am assuming and hoping there isn't a third.

Anyway, part of the reason why these kinds of expeditions are interesting to me is the consideration of the creators motivations; or, more simply, why do people make this shit? Ed Wood's movies are interesting in large part because they were personal, introspective projects; it's all the pure emotion and personal investment that's behind an average Scorsese picture, except it's combined with hilarious ineptitude at the actual production side. They may be comically bad, but it's hard to sincerely hate these kind of movies.

Something like The Room is comparable, but the comedy in that comes from the pure absurdity of the whole thing. To paraphrase a random review, The Room has dialogue that implies the writer has never had contact with the human race; football is somehow catch; people make nonsensical entrances at inappropriate times, and leave within 3 minutes. All with a grim seriousness.


The types of movies that are the easiest to hate are cynical, lifeless cash-ins. This can apply to something like Men in Black 2, where any of the charm of the original is focus grouped away in favor of lifeless marketability and box office projections. But some low budget features are the same way, empty profit-motivated calculations designed to get some mild profit out of a piece of shit.


Which brings me to Video Brinquedo. Founded in Brazil in 1994 as an apparently straightforward children's animation company, something must have gone horribly, horribly wrong, because it has essentially become a criminal enterprise built on a scam. Their goal is to trick unsuspecting consumers into purchasing Video Brinquedo movies while looking for quality entertainment. This isn't a joke and is meant to be taken literally; they create cheap carbon copies of popular animated features (namely Pixar and Dreamworks), maintaining the key characteristics but removing any semblance of charm, wit and quality. They then give them similar sounding names and innocuous DVD covers to fool people into buying them instead of the movie they really want.

On some level, yeah, anyone who truly wants to the excellent Ratatouille should probably be able to tell this is a cheap, worthless ripoff. But let's not blame the victims here. Disinterested parents looking for a night's entertainment? Old people who vaguely know to get some movie about a rat making food? An uncle who figures "he liked that one movie about rats, he'll probably like another"? Really dumb people? To Video Brinquedo, it's less "target audience" and more "targets". It's not as if there's signed affidavits which indicate that this is indeed the pure intent of Video Brinquedo, but even without seeing a moment of their work it's hard not to reach that exact conclusion. Other titles include Little Bee, The Tiny Little Cars, and Tangled Up!

On a creative level, this is where things get interesting: you can't ONLY sell the DVD box, there does need to be something at least vaguely resembling an actual children's motion picture inside. So the entire motivation of the process here is purely the most cynical kind of profit and it's unlikely anyone on the creative team is interested in making anything of any value. Yet something, anything, still needs to be made, basically as an afterthought of the whole process. The result, unsurprisingly, is godawful garbage: horrific quality CG, a script that was either completely improvised or written in 30 minutes, obvious filler shots (filler meaning they needed extra stuff to full up the runtime, which is under an hour), just everything that could go wrong in an animated movie is going to go wrong. Oddly enough, the voice actors (at least in the English dub) are somewhat respectable, but they're given nothing to work with; they try their best, but we can write these off as paychecks.

I have viewed two movies from this company that happened to be airing in an online stream: Ratatoing and The Little Panda Fighter. If you're insane as well, both movies are available on Youtube; no copyright protections has been invoked presumably because, as mentioned, the actual viewing of the movie is not important to the motivations of Video Brinqueno.

Ratatoing is about as bad as you could expect, and worthwhile, though it trends towards the dull as opposed to the entertainingly bad. A mouse named Marcel Toing lives in The City (it's obvious Rio de Janeiro but for some reason they just call it "The City"), where he works at his restaurant and blahblahblah who gives a shit its ratatouille but horrible. The biggest gut laugh probably comes when, presumably for lack of an appropriate animated run cycle, a cat who is chasing the main character runs like a gorilla. The few seconds of dialogue there should give you a feel for the whole thing.

Despite just sticking around for it, The Little Panda Fighter proved a much more interesting experience. There is no more semblance of legitimate artistic effort in here than in Ratatoing; still an obvious ripoff, the animation is just as dismal and the script just as lacking. Which is why it's all the more surprising they stumbled onto something awesome. Without subjecting yourself to the movie, it is necessary to go through the machinations of the plot.

The Little Panda Fighter is, at least ostensibly, about a panda bear named Pancada, a low level bar janitor who dreams of becoming a dancer. He works for Polaris, a polar bear who runs a club which also functions as a boxing site. He is business partners with a bear named Grizzlepuss, a gambler who consistently has snot coming out of his nose for some reason. Pancada has a thing for coworker Beth, who doesn't like him at all and actively mocks him within the first 10 minutes of the movie. The movie really hates this Pancada guy.

The plot follows Pancada as he tries to become a better dancer in order to impress Beth, with the help of a "Chinese master" type character called Master Jin. It's pretty dumb shit. But there's also a subplot which eventually merges into the main plot concerning the bar owner, Polaris. The champion, Freaky Teddy Thunders (get it teddy bear bahahahahaaha no) has been dominant at the top of the card for far too long, and the customers are getting bored as a result. Polaris used to be a champion boxer himself, but because of an agreement with Grizzlepuss that could only exist for plot purposes, he's not allowed to go back into the ring.

Most of the movie's intended humor comes from hideously unfunny montages where Pancada either dances or trains for his upcoming fight, as well as standard issue "HE IS AWKWARD AROUND WOMEN" jokes between him and Beth. There's also references of various popular bear characters; among them, Grizzlepuss is an obvious Yogi Bear ripoff and one of the first victims of Freaky Teddy is a Care Bear equivalent. The line between ripoff and reference is hard to spot, and the humor of "fighting Care Bear" is on-par with zero effort Robot Chicken shit anyway. The thing that will actually make you laugh namely come from the godawful animation. Watch this scene and note of how long it takes Pancada to reach the desk; this happens like 5 separate times. Some hardcore filler going on up in here.

Polaris finds a loophole to the agreement with Grizzlepuss: if he's wearing a mask as a "mystery opponent", then he technically wouldn't be getting back into the ring, and could defeat Freaky Teddy himself. He only tells Pancada of his plans, and sends him to wash and dry his costume; along the way, he runs into Beth and Grizzlepuss, who are skeptical of the new challenger. Pancada defends the mystery opponent, saying he could have a chance. Pancada finds a way to fuck up dry cleaning, so the costume ends up shrinking on Polaris. The combination of the shrunken black costume and the white fur of a polar bear ends up making the disguised Polaris look like a panda. Despite the gigantic differences in height and rotundity (Polaris's character design is obviously based on a realistic version of a polar bear, while Pancada is a cartoony version of a panda, making the whole thing even more ridiculous), and based on the earlier conversation, Grizzlepuss and Beth come to the conclusion that the mystery opponent must in fact be Pancada! Disguised Polaris, of course, kicks Freaky Teddy's ass, and the masked man wins the championship. There's like 50 holes of logic here, I know, and it's all so fucking stupid, but just stay with me for a bit.

While this is going on, Pancada is trying to finish his training and get accepted into a high-level dancing society, or something; it should be no surprise that he fails at this. This enables the movie to jump between horribly animated fight sequences and horribly animated dance sequences. Because of miscommunications the next day, Pancada misinterprets the high praise from Grizzlepuss and Beth on what they thought was his fight as actually being comments on his dancing, and in the process unintentionally confirms their suspicions. This becomes doubled when Beth, now seeing Pancada as a champion, has gone from actively mocking him to having a romantic interest. Video Brinquedo isn't exactly a feminist studio.

Everything becomes clear when Pancada and Polaris have a talk. When Pancada reveals he thinks people are complimenting him on his dancing, Polaris reacts with laughter that is so bizarre and animated so poorly that it needs to be seen to be believed. Freaky Teddy wants an immediate rematch; Polaris decides he will have to keep the costume and beat him again. In order to impress Beth, after a talk with Master Jin, Pancada decides he wants to fight the fight himself; he even threatens to go to the papers about Polaris's deceit if he isn't allowed to fight. Polaris begrudgingly agrees, and they proceed to have one of the most horrible training montages of all time in preparation; the fight becomes a hugely hyped event, and Pancada's perceived win over Freaky Teddy has enabled him to be the favorite. By the end of his training, Grizzlepuss has put down money on a Pancada victory, and even Polaris seems to believe he can do it. Pancada himself is nervous, but Master Jin tells him that if he fights like he dances, he'll surely win.

Pancada gets into the ring. The dialogue tells us the bar is absolutely packed, despite the fact it is clearly empty. Guess they didn't want to animate customers. The first round somehow happens without any punches being thrown. Round 2 involves Pancada being punched (sort of) with no offense. Then he remembers his master's words. Round 3 begins with Pancada going into dancing mode, eye gouging his opponent (this is our hero, remember) and attempting a kick...which doesn't work at all. Teddy proceeds to offer a knockout punch to the face. Pancada is shown daydreaming, falling through the sky in his dancing gear, while the audience awaits the inevitability of him getting back up.

He does not.

Pancada just got his ass kicked and it wasn't even close. Defeated physically and mentally, Pancada goes into Polaris's office the next day (horrible walkcycle and all) to apologize for screwing everything up. Here's where it gets awesome.

After hearing a sincere apology, Polaris reveals that he never believed Pancada could do it at all. His exact words are "Remember when you training and I kept saying, 'I know you could beat that overgrown furball? Well I was lying! I knew there was no way a tubby little panda could beat a fighter like that!" But Pancada doesn't need to worry, according to Polaris. Everyone else so was convinced that Pancada was going to win, while only Polaris knew the real story that he didn't have a chance. Having absolutely zero faith in his friend, Polaris put all of his money on Teddy to win before the fight, and is now "the richest man in the whole city!" Pancada admits even he put money on himself to win.

While this is all happening, Grizzlepuss has figured out the mystery of the obvious body shape differences and fighting styles of Pancada's 'first' and second match, and has put everything together. He goes to the back to confront Polaris over breaking the terms of their agreement, only to find...Pancada sitting in his chair. After convincing him he's not Polaris in disguise (even though Grizzlepuss just figured this stupid shit out, he apparently falls for it again), Pancada reveals that Polaris has skipped town with all of his gambling money. The last shot we see of him is in a tundra area, complete with "deal with it" sunglasses. They have a small conversation which sums up the plot for anyone who missed anything, and presumably to fill time. As a final move, Polaris has signed over the bar to Pancada, who turns it into a restaurant and ballroom. Beth tells Pancada "everything is going to be fine", and he goes on stage to dance, much to Grizzlepuss's anger.

Let's just review what happened here:
- Polaris broke the rules of his contract and kicked Teddy's ass
- When threatened by Pancada with revealing the whole affair, he allows his presumable friend to go through with a dangerous fight that he knows he can't win
- While this is going on, he uses his insider knowledge to basically swindle everyone in town out of their money
- Before anyone can call him on it, he skips town with everyone's money
- Grizzlepuss, who has presumably done nothing wrong beyond being animated annoyingly, is completely screwed out of his contract and money
- Our "hero" has failed at dancing, failed at fighting, and there's very little in the way of indications that he's legitimately won over the heart of the girl. His biggest success was being a pawn in Polaris's master plan

...what the fuck? This would be a bizarre ending for a children's cartoon no matter how you sliced it, but it at least would make some sense if it could be connected to a legitimate creative instinct; for an easy example, Invader Zim did crazy shit all the time in a children's show, which could be connected to its eccentric creator Jhonen Vasquez or the creative team that shared his vision. The fact that a movie that was apparently created with no creative vision, no effort, as a purely cynical cash-in calculation, could come up with such a bizarre and maybe even subversive ending absolutely boggles the mind.

The exact motivations of Video Brinquedo will never be known; the exact writing process of The Little Panda Fighter isn't going to be revealed in any DVD special feature. At the end of the day, we can only guess at how a cold, calculating bad=assed sociopath like Polaris could come out of a movie like this.

POLITICS: Doug Schoen, Wall Street Journal shill, misrepresents Occupy Wall Street

From a post I did on Daily Kos.

It really shouldn't be all that surprising when the Murdoch-owned Wall Street Journal releases an editorial which portrays liberals/progressives/anyone so much as slightly complaining about the current status quo as 'radicals'. But this piece by Douglas Schoen reaches new levels of intellectual dishonesty, and shows that when guys like Schoen use terms like "out of the mainstream", they're not referring to America but to the corporate donors who own both parties.

For those who know the name Douglas Schoen, this shouldn't be all that surprising. His bio here focuses on being a "pollster for Bill Clinton", intended to provoke the thought of DEMOCRAT. This is the Fox News Democrat model, perfected by snakes like Dick Morris, in which someone with professional ties to the Democrats in the past (and therefore presumed progressives by their audience) will express disdain at the newest proposal or movement of the day with "Democratic Pollster" written under their name. It's an effective way of saying "Wow, [item of the day] is so out there, even Democrats are against it!"

When Schoen isn't shilling for Murdoch, he's the type of Democratic strategist that tells Hillary Clinton to run like a Republican against Obama and supporting guys like Jeff Greene (remember him?). Think DLC, think Mark Penn, etc.

Based on this record of success, Schoen has some news for Barack Obama and the Democrats: stay away from those radical Occupy Wall Street protesters!

Yet the Occupy Wall Street movement reflects values that are dangerously out of touch with the broad mass of the American people—and particularly with swing voters who are largely independent and have been trending away from the president since the debate over health-care reform.

The protesters have a distinct ideology and are bound by a deep commitment to radical left-wing policies.

Oh shit! Well, okay, Obama does need to win independents in the election, and Schoen is mainly a pollster. Let's look at the methodology:

On Oct. 10 and 11, Arielle Alter Confino, a senior researcher at my polling firm, interviewed nearly 200 protesters in New York's Zuccotti Park. Our findings probably represent the first systematic random sample of Occupy Wall Street opinion.

Honestly, while it isn't going to be absolutely perfect (no polling is), and will only reflect the specific Occupy Wall Street New Yorkers as opposed to the nationwide protests (though I suspect the numbers are similar), this actually should give a somewhat respectable rundown of OWS opinions, depending on the question wording (which is never provided). Nonetheless, let's continue:

Our research shows clearly that the movement doesn't represent unemployed America and is not ideologically diverse.

...

The vast majority of demonstrators are actually employed, and the proportion of protesters unemployed (15%) is within single digits of the national unemployment rate (9.1%).

The right-wing echo chamber is focused on calling anyone who opposed Wall Street excess as lazy unemployed bums who should blame themselves; Schoen has apparently found they aren't unemployed enough to be representative! Ouch!

Some other demographic info:

An overwhelming majority of demonstrators supported Barack Obama in 2008. Now 51% disapprove of the president while 44% approve, and only 48% say they will vote to re-elect him in 2012, while at least a quarter won't vote.

Fewer than one in three (32%) call themselves Democrats, while roughly the same proportion (33%) say they aren't represented by any political party.

Half (52%) have participated in a political movement before, virtually all (98%) say they would support civil disobedience to achieve their goals, and nearly one-third (31%) would support violence to advance their agenda.

Expect the 31% number to pop up (I would've loved to see that question wording).

I'm...kinda curious what the other 35% said with regard to party; I somehow doubt Republican, even with the Ron Paul people, but I don't know what the other responses were. But really, this doesn't seem to back up the "Obama sponsored union astroturf" narrative thrown out by the Breitbarts of the world.

Here's where Schoen gets dishonest:

What binds a large majority of the protesters together—regardless of age, socioeconomic status or education—is a deep commitment to left-wing policies: opposition to free-market capitalism and support for radical redistribution of wealth, intense regulation of the private sector, and protectionist policies to keep American jobs from going overseas.

RADICAL! INTENSE! At the risk of sounding obvious, the implication here is that the opinions of OWS are going to be far, far outside the mainstream of American opinion.

WSJ:

By a large margin (77%-22%), they support raising taxes on the wealthiest Americans, but 58% oppose raising taxes for everybody, with only 36% in favor.

Let's set up a comparison: a new nationwide CNN poll, which asks a similar question. (Side note: Obama scores slightly better nationwide in approval, 46/50, than among the OWS crowd)

CNN:

"Do you support increasing the taxes paid by people who make more than one million dollars a year?"
Support: 76
Oppose: 24

"Do you support increasing the taxes paid by people who make more than two hundred fifty thousand dollars a year?"
Support: 63
Oppose: 37

Schoen's use of "the wealthiest Americans" obscure the issue a bit, but even if we take the $250,000 question, we still see strong support for increasing taxes on the wealthy in the general public.

What else is so radical about these guys?

Sixty-five percent say that government has a moral responsibility to guarantee all citizens access to affordable health care, a college education, and a secure retirement—no matter the cost.

This country does have a program for a secure retirement that goes by the name social security, and people seem to oppose messing with it.

The comparison point on "affordable health care" has been obscured a bit, as most polling on the issue is now highly focused on the health care law as opposed to the general concept (though note the change in perception when you include the option of the law not doing enough to expand affordable coverage). The earliest comparison point I can find is an old CBS poll from June 2009, which is almost directly in line with that portion of the question:

"Should government guarantee health insurance for all Americans?

Support 64
Oppose 30

Instead of noting this, Schoen jumps to a non-sensical comparison point:

Thus Occupy Wall Street is a group of engaged progressives who are disillusioned with the capitalist system and have a distinct activist orientation. Among the general public, by contrast, 41% of Americans self-identify as conservative, 36% as moderate, and only 21% as liberal. That's why the Obama-Pelosi embrace of the movement could prove catastrophic for their party.

Those numbers seem right, but I don't really see what they have to do with the other information provided, or why it implies the "Obama-Pelosi embrace of the movement" (which is pretty laughable anyway) will destroy the Democratic Party. I guess he's implying the OWS are all super-liberals or something (even though their opinions are pretty mainstream), and Americans aren't, so therefore destruction of the party. He continues:

Today, having abandoned any effort to work with the congressional super committee to craft a bipartisan agreement on deficit reduction, President Obama has thrown in with those who support his desire to tax oil companies and the rich, rather than appeal to independent and self-described moderate swing voters who want smaller government and lower taxes, not additional stimulus or interference in the private sector.

I missed the part where it was Obama giving up on the super congress, but ignoring that, I guess the point is independents and moderates don't want the rich to be taxed. From the same CNN poll:

Support for tax increases on $250,000+

Moderates
68% Support
30% Oppose

Independents
63% Support
35% Oppose

Support for tax increases on $1,000,000+

Moderates
81% Support
17% Oppose

Independents
75% Support
24% Oppose

And on the "stimulus" point, the support for infrastructure projects such as those prescribed in the jobs bill is 72-28, with independent and moderate numbers looking similar; stimulus in the form of hiring teachers and first responders is 75-24.

The other points Schoen makes is some kind of nonsensical argument that the OWS people support bailouts (based on a question of whether the bailouts were "necessary", 49 agree 51 disagree), and advocates that the Democrats separate themselves from such insane radical rhetoric as millionaires paying more in taxes.

They're hardly even trying anymore.

WRESTLING: The world's strongest test case

Two weeks ago, something happened in the WWE that would've been completely unthinkable even two years ago. The possibility of it happening was always there, usually in the background. Maybe some of the more naive fans could see it happening. But the smarks, the assholes who think they understand how wrestling works and think they get "the industry", people like me, would've never thought it possible.

Nonetheless, it happened. A bruised and battered Randy Orton went for the RKO, but was brushed away easily. A powerful and painful slam followed. And Mark Henry  was the World Heavyweight Champion.

On face value, it would seem logical. Mark is an intimidating sight to behold: 6'4, 400+ pounds, including arms that look bigger than the average human head. This fits in perfectly with Vince McMahon's long-term logic that says bigger = better; little guys (which is to say anyone under 6'4) have to prove their worth in WWE over the course of many years, usually involving sacrificing their bodies in painstaking match after match, in order to build up enough credibility with the crowd/Vince even get a shot at the main event. Bigger guys have this credibility based on their looks alone, and can be shot to the top after a few squash matches.

His "World's Strongest Man" moniker isn't made up; an Olympian, Mark had broken several US weight-lifting records before his wrestling career began. In kayfabe terms, Mark had spent the previous months on the wrestling equivalent of a killing spree. He had beaten the (usually highly protected, booking-wise) Big Show, cleanly, at Money in the Bank; he scored a victory over major WWE prospect Sheamus, including a nicely done barrier-breaking spot. This on top of 15 years of WWE employment, easily putting him towards the top of WWE wrestlers in terms of experience. So, great look, wrestling experience, good booking. Why would such a victory be surprising?

Let's start at the beginning. Any discussion of wrestling is going to be marred in rumor and unconfirmed sources, so bear with me.

After making an appearance earlier in the year to promote the US Olympic Weight-Lifting team, the rumor goes that Vince McMahon took an immediate liking to Mark Henry and demanded he be signed. Whether Henry made a hard bargain or Vince McMahon was completely enamored with "highly muscular guy" (a very real possibility) is unknown, but when all was said and done, Mark Henry had an unheard of 10-year contract with WWE. He started off with a long-term feud with heel commentator and wrestling legend Jerry "The King" Lawler, culminating in Mark Henry's first televised match at Mind Games (includes bonus Mick Foley promo). When the company believes your debut match can be even a mid-card PPV selling point, they must have some faith in you.

The first thing you'll notice about the match is that it is not good at all! In the rare moments when the apparently super-patriotic Mark Henry isn't standing like a rock in the middle of the ring, he manages to nearly screw up a handful of wrestling slams. Notice how much Lawler carries the match, selling every bump into Henry as though being hit by the train, involving the crowd with his heel techniques, and generally being the best asshole he can be...but really, there's no saving this one. Henry wins with a torture rack. Yeah, a torture rack.

Surprisingly, the crowd did not immediately react to the immobile and awkward Mark Henry as the mega face Vince McMahon must've been hoping for. The rest of 1996 involved him staying on the sidelines in a handful of midcard feuds, until needing a year off to cover for injuries. He returned at the tail end of 1997, being given a mild winning streak over a handful of jobbers (best part of this video: Jim Cornette on commentary, somehow getting Mark Henry over as a force to be reckoned with while openly acknowledging he sucks at the whole 'wrestling' thing).

Needing to become more 'polished' (to paraphrase Cornette), the WWE did a logical move, putting Henry in the successful heel stable The Nation of Domination. A play on the Nation of Islam (race issues + wrestling, always a fun mix), Henry was able to play off his natural tough look while being tossed into the background enough to get away with his limited skill set. Originally designed as a launchpad for prospect D-Lo Brown, the Nation's biggest success was no doubt Rocky Maivia, who found his voice when he changed to heel persona The Rock.

In kayfabe terms, the Nation split between original leader Faarooq and The Rock, with Henry taking The Rock's side. Noticing that the once unpopular babyface had become immensely better during his time in the Nation, the WWE decided to use the storyline as a building block to a new major star. Mark Henry would actually play a role here; the remnants of the Nation turned on The Rock, turning him face again, and Henry would actually pick up a cheap victory over him at Judgment Day 1998, completely separating The Rock from the group. There is, of course, a world of difference between this effort and the 1996 match, but it would be generous to call Mark "good" at this point; The Rock, who was just finding his footing in WWE, carries the vast majority of the match. The Rock would use the separation from the Nation to build a major babyface following that would quickly culminate in him becoming one of the finest wrestling stars of all-time.

Mark Henry, meanwhile, would not quite do that. It was a deadly combination: Mark Henry hadn't done all that much for himself in the Nation; the WWE had a long-term contract with a guy they didn't really want, and this was the era of Vince Russo, a man who prided himself on nonsensical sex-based plotlines. Henry would team up with the other remaining aimless midcarder from the Nation, D'Lo Brown, and form a tag team.

The dynamic of the team wasn't the worst idea. Aimless midcarders being tossed together can sometimes yield great results: this is how the New Age Outlaws were formed (a team that, incidentally, would kick Brown/Henry's asses on a regular basis). D-Lo Brown's smaller-man energy contrasted nicely with Mark Henry's big man intimidation factor. But, for the aforementioned reasons, Mark Henry went from a gimmick of "large strong man" to "Sexual Chocolate". It wasn't that the Sexual Chocolate gimmick wasn't successful; anyone who watched wrestling in the Attitude Era likely remembers what those words mean. But in terms of establishing Henry as any kind of credible competitor, it was less than useless, it was actively harmful. 

Brown/Henry would be on roughly the second string of tag teams of the era, jobbing themselves out to the likes of Owen Hart and Jeff Jarrett and X-Pac and Kane, along with the New Age Outlaws. Eventually the tag team would be broken up when, at Summerslam 1999, Henry would assist Jeff Jarrett in defeating his tag partner for the Intercontinental and European Championships. In exchange for his assistance, Jarrett would award Henry the European Championship. Designed originally as a gimmick for The British Bulldog, the European Championship was a title so completely worthless that Triple H and Shawn Michaels literally had a gimmick match built around how shitty and stupid the title was. This would be Henry's first title, and his only one until 2008.

With his tag team gone, Henry's matches essentially became second priority to backstage segments playing on the Sexual Chocolate gimmick. The following period would be the type of wrestling run that he would spend the remainder of his career hoping the fans would forget. In this time frame he was given embarrassing, horrifically written segments in which he chased after the likes of Debra and Ivory to comic effect, admitted sex addiction, and impregnated a nearly 80 year old woman who eventually gave birth to a hand. There's a chance you might've glossed over the third thing, or think I'm exaggerating, but no. Mark Henry kayfabe impregnated 76 year-old Mae Young, the storyline dragged on meaninglessly for awhile, and then this happened. Yes, that is a video of Mae Young giving birth to a hand while Mark Henry watches. This happened.

That clip I just linked? That happened on TV. Somebody wrote it, it was recorded, and then it aired on live television, to a very large (this was when WWE was getting record-breaking ratings) audience. It isn't fake. Well, it is fake insofar as she didn't really give birth to a hand, but this was a real storyline that WWE found acceptable to put on TV with the intent of entertaining someone. I do not think I can overemphasize how much this thing actually happened. The rumor was that Vince McMahon didn't want to honor Henry's contract and wanted him to walk, so gave him embarrassing material in the hopes he would quit. Russo was the best man to pull this off.

Anyway, turning Henry into a racially-charged sex joke didn't exactly jump his career into superstardom. His ring work had actually somewhat deteriorated; while doing what he was told, Henry had understandably lost some of his drive, and had gained weight. For this and other reasons, Henry would spend the next few years in WWE's developmental territory, Ohio Valley Wrestling, sporadically making appearances on TV to little reaction. Henry's heart probably wasn't into it much either; while fulfilling his obligations, he went back to some weightlifting competitions.

It wouldn't be until 2003 that Henry returned for any sustained period. In an apparent attempt to replicate the success of the Nation of Domination, Henry was placed into Thuggin' And Buggin' Enterprise under manager Theodore Long, a group of minorities being held down by "The Man". The success was not replicated and, outside of tertiary involvement in a main event Triple H/Goldberg feud, they were largely unused. As the group dissolved slowly, Mark would feud with the (criminally underused in this period) Booker T at Armageddon 2003 after winning a few victories over him. It should be no major spoiler that Mark Henry is never going to be Shawn Michaels in terms of his ring abilities, but this match shows some improvements from his late 90s days; he now has a handful of nice looking power spots, can sell at least somewhat, and can work the crowd a bit better. Only major fuck up is a badly botched powerbomb at ~08:45. Booker T, of course, is carrying the match, but Henry has legitimately progressed. However, Mark's progress would be slowed yet again when he suffered an injury while training in early 2004. Keep in mind, under our normal time frame, that Henry is still on his initial contract.

It wouldn't be until the beginning of 2006 that we would see Henry again. He was quickly thrown into a championship match at the Royal Rumble in a match that was more about champion Kurt Angle's manager, Daivari, than about Mark Henry (side note: the Royal Rumble match sells itself, which is why you rarely see good championship bouts at the Royal Rumble PPV). Henry would, of course, lose. But Henry's contract was apparently renewed, and he started to play into his hoss role a bit better than he had been. His new theme music, from Three Six Mafia, certainly helped, and indicated the company hadn't quite given up on old Mark.

He was considered credible enough to be an opponent for the Undertaker at Wrestlemania (and fell victim to The Streak) before continuing his Angle feud with the title no longer on the line, even picking up a win at Judgment Day 2006. This period would also see one of Henry's most infamous moments, involving his failure to tear open a cage door, which in fairness wasn't entirely his fault. Actually, in some ways, the fact the door wasn't properly rigged and Henry still managed to break it open is kinda badass. Sadly, the Batista/Henry feud that the cage incident was supposed to represent would never quite see the light of day, as Henry suffered another injury after a tag match on "Saturday Night's Main Event", and spent some more time on the sidelines.

Now a veteran of more than 10 years, Henry was a solid portion of the background in WWE by 2007. Vignettes hyped his return in May 2007. His return instigated another feud with the Undertaker, attacking the champion after a tag match and setting up for Edge to cash in his Money in the Bank opportunity. The subsequent build and feud was largely standard issue WWE material, and one-sided in favor of the Undertaker.

In this time period, WWE had purchased the rights to the ECW name, and the brand had developed into a sort of training ground/retirement village. By the time Henry showed up in late 2007, ECW was largely about:
- giving new guys some TV time without cutting into Raw/Smackdown
- giving long-time veterans who were never world champion material some time to shine
Henry fit the second category fairly well. Late 2007 and early 2008 saw Henry involved in marginal midcard storylines on Smackdown and spending a decent amount of time in ECW, which he was 'officially' drafted to in 2008. A wrestling viewer could've fairly predicted that this would be the end portion of Henry's career, helping the new guys learn the ropes while waiting out his contract, perhaps getting some people over in the process.

Enter the Michael Hayes incident. Hayes, one of the top writers on Smackdown! and a major member of the McMahon inner-circle, got a little drunk at a WWE event and was ribbing on Henry's lack of success. He attributed Henry's failure to connect on him "not being black enough", allegedly adding, "I've got soul, brother. I'm more of a [n-word] than you are!" The story became public, creating a potential publicity problem for WWE enough to have them send out public releases regarding their diversity efforts. It would also be the best thing to happen to Henry's career in years, as it would lead to his run as ECW champion.

This is obviously partly conjecture, but the timeline lines up enough that it's hard not to believe it (and besides, it's my blog). It might also seem a bit crass to attribute Henry's success on ECW entirely to an unfortunate incident, but welcome to the world of wrestling. The backstage inner dealings of workers and management have a tendency to work their way on-screen; shortly after impressing Vince McMahon by punching out wrestler JBL, Joey Styles was suddenly given an on-screen appearance. Draw your own conclusions.

Regardless of how he got there, Mark Henry made the best of the situation. Winning on a kayfabe fluke in a three-way match at Night of Champions 2008, Henry took full advantage of his first championship in 9 years. Henry was definitely a heel, but there was a certain infectious enthusiasm to his heeldom; note his big (and probably legitimate) joyous smile upon winning the title, a trademark he would keep for the run. Legendary wrestler Tony Atlas would be brought on as Henry's manager, and perhaps to keep him disciplined on the road. The old ECW championship was replaced with a more fitting huge silver belt. Henry's character was straight-forward: big hoss heel that looked generally unbeatable, feuding with upper midcarders like Matt Hardy (before he became a worthless piece of shit) and ECW mainstays like Tommy Dreamer.

The thing was, despite Henry's generally disappointing career, his role as the centerpiece of the C-show kind of worked. Even the most hardened and cynical fan who had viewed Henry as dead weight for years couldn't help but feel good he was getting the 'gold watch' run, or so it seemed. Henry would lose the belt in 70 days, without directly being pinned for it, in an uninspiring "Scramble" match at Unforgiven 2008. If you don't know what a Scramble match is, imagine a really dumb match that leads to nonsense like this image. Henry would round up his ECW run with forgettable feuds with the likes of Finlay/Hornswoggle and Evan Bourne, but his ECW Championship run would give him a taste of the credibility that WWE had likely seen in him from the get-go.

For a while, it actually seemed like Henry's newfound credibility would actually go somewhere. Drafted to Raw in the 2009 draft, Henry would come in with a bang by pinning champion Randy Orton at the tail end of a gauntlet match, turning face in the process. The response was likely the biggest of Henry's career, and he was given newfound credibility as a face challenger, perhaps the next title challenger to Randy Orton.

WWE would follow up with this by...well, not anything on that level. He was placed into a tag team with (also freshly face) MVP, in a somewhat successful tag team that didn't do much to elevate either man. This was when WWE was in "Saturday Night Live" mode on Raw, with episodes focused on terrible comedy segments with the usually B-level celebrity of the week. This was a uniquely bad time to get into the main event; the highpoint of MarkVP was probably feuding with the excellent Jericho/Big Show tag team (to no avail), while the low point was a godawful segment in which Henry attempted rapping with Verne Troyer to no one's enjoyment (thankfully, video of this event is not on Youtube). As has become standard issue with WWE, an initial flirtation with the main event level eventually petered out into midcard staleness, and Henry ended his Raw run with a series of forgettable "big man/small man" tag teams (Evan Bourne, Yoshi Tatsu). He was also Lucky Cannon's on NXT, but you didn't watch that show. While the face period didn't push Henry up the card, he would continue to improve in the ring to the point where he had adapted to WWE style quite well; he couldn't exactly carry the match himself, but against a good opponent (like, say, Christian), he could have a match of decent quality.

Henry would be drafted back to Smackdown in April of 2011. In the main event of the draft night, Henry would turn heel again by attacking Cena (amusingly, within a month, Christian would also be a heel and Cena would be back on Raw). It was the first indication of a real attempt to do something with Henry, and to everyone's amazement, WWE actually followed up on it:
- A feud with the Big Show, who is usually protected in the booking, was heavily tilted in Henry's favor and ended with Show being kayfabe injured at Money in the Bank
- A shorter term feud with Sheamus ended with a countout victory for Henry, but included a neat little spot that got Henry over on its own
- He was well-protected in the booking and generally was seen as unbeatable to anyone else in the roster

The logic here is so simple that it's bizarre we don't see it much in the WWE. Henry's turn was given some importance. He got heel heat by his arrogant and demeanor, not the standard "cowardly heel" persona that WWE feels fits all nowadays; the fact he was legitimately unstoppable in the ring is only going to make the crowd hate him more. He said he was going to destroy his opponent in promos; he then went on to destroy his opponent. This kind of booking did something that years of bad comedy and half-assed pushes couldn't do: the average fan actually cared about Mark Henry.

The build-up to the Night of Champions match with Orton cleverly played up Henry's mixed WWE history: 15 years in the WWE without ever holding the championship belt, Orton presented Henry as a bad investment and punchline. The build was fairly brutal on Henry; if he had lost, he would've lost all credibility because of it. Thankfully, not only did Henry win the match, but won clean, a rare feat for any Orton opponent who isn't John Cena. Henry then proceeded to give the best promo of his career; when a handful of smarky fans cheered his win, he shunned them out, correctly identifying that they were the same people who didn't believe in him for years. This was his moment, and he wasn't sharing it with anybody. (No video is available as this is a recent PPV)

Henry's career has happened largely in the sidelines of WWE, but he has been the victim of wrestling logic at its worst and its best. An Olympian weightlifter with a memorable look, he has rapped with midgets and fathered a hand, for reasons unknown to anyone. A mediocre worker and limited promo at best, he was successfully built into hoss heel that earned the ire of fans worldwide against all odds.

How long his title reign lasts, and what he'll be able to do with it, remains to be seen; his victory against Orton at Hell in a Cell indicates this wasn't going to be treated as "gold watch" two week run with no ultimate purpose. For the moment, all we can know is that when the Three Six Mafia music hits, wigs are probably going to get split.

MOVIE REVIEW: Catching Hell

Catching Hell (2011)
Director: Alex Gibney

Full disclosure: I'm not a big sports fan, so the Steve Bartman story in general was mostly new to me. So sorry if I'm treading old territory.

Really great documentaries have an odd tendency to have their essence reduced to one scene. "Don't Look Back" is widely remembered for Bob Dylan being a complete asshole to an otherwise friendly journalist who dared asked a few standard questions. "Roger and Me" will be remembered for Michael Moore wandering into the headquarters of General Motors and requesting an interview with CEO Roger Smith, then feigning surprise when he's denied.

"Catching Hell", made for ESPN's impressive '30 for 30' series, is no exception (more on that later). The documentary tells the complete story behind Steve Bartman, an unfortunate fan who, depending on who you ask, cost the Chicago Cubs the 2003 National League championship or meekly reached for a foul ball and happened to get it.

The full incident, as it happened, is seen here (money shot is at roughly 02:54). But the pure amount of context to completely understand what's going on here is somewhat breathtaking. Here is an attempt:
- The Chicago Cubs, despite having some competitive seasons (and a lot of uncompetitive seasons), have not been to the World Series since 1908. The belief that the Cubs are cursed is widespread; for some it's an amusing way to explain their team's bad luck. For others you have to wonder if they're being literal. One of the most popular theories involves a billy goat (really).
- But right now, they are up 3-2 in a series against the Florida Marlins in 2003. Playing at home, they are ahead 3-0 in the top of the 8th, with 1 out. The Cubs fans, some of the most ardent in baseball, are completely into the game; Gibney includes some home video footage of fans at the game, who are careful not to jinx the team. They are counting the outs left, even though they know they shouldn't.
- Marlin player Luis Castillo is at bat, with Juan Pierre on second base. He hits a fly ball almost directly down the foul line; left fielder Moises Alou makes the jump to catch it the ball. However, his effort is ultimately for nothing when Steve Bartman grabs the ball and prevent it from going into Alou's waiting mitt. Alou responds, justifiably, with an outraged fit. Bartman doesn't even wind up with the ball; another fan momentarily celebrates catching the ball before he notices that the crowd has completely picked up on what had happened. Bartman sits back down and resumes watching the game, while the crowd jeers.

If the Cubs had finished the game without anything major happening, this would be a mildly interesting piece of social psychology. This was not the case: as if on cue (at least if you're a Cubs fan) everything goes to shit following the Bartman incident. The Cubs give up a run...then another, then another. Then 5 more. By the time the inning is up, the Cubs are behind, 8-3. The score holds through the ninth inning, and the game is over.

While all of this is going on, Bartman's actions take on more and more symbolic importance. This is the area where the documentary is largely interested. Alex Gibney may not be a household name, but he's an accomplished director, most noted for the inspection of corporate greed in "Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room" and American foreign policy in "Taxi to the Dark Side". He approaches the Bartman incident with a social-psychological mindset, an intelligent decision.

The first aspect is the media. Through interviews with the commentary team and television director of the game, we see how the moment became a national story. Recognizing a television moment when he sees one, the director decides to replay the moment ad nausuem. The multiple camera angles available enhance the story; it becomes highly clear that Moises would've made the catch. As the tide of the game turns, the natural instinct of the commentators is to identify the moment as a turning point. By the end of the day, the fan interference was a top story. A commentator even notes that going into game 7 of the National League championship series, it felt like Bartman had taken most of the air out of the room.

More important than the media is the scene on the ground: the fans initially jeer once they realize that Bartman has cost them an out. As the situation becomes worse, he becomes the perfect scapegoat. A large "asshole" chant eventually spreads to the entire arena. Jeers and verbal abuse follow. Then comes the beer throwing. Steve Bartman's demeanor for the remainder of the 8th inning has become iconic in and of itself:

His blank expression with undertones of "oh shit I am so sorry", the subtle way he seems to be begging everyone to not look at him, the glasses, and the now legendary earphones, all tell the entire story. It's no surprise Bartman was one of the biggest Halloween costumes that year. In an interview with a woman sitting near Bartman, we find out he asked "do you think I did anything wrong?"

The situation worsens; security, who had been watching the situation develop, come to the conclusion that Bartman's physical well-being is in danger. Officers were sent down to remove Bartman and his group of friends from the arena.While Bartman is being escorted out of the building, with garbage and jeers being thrown at him, he attempts to cover his face, presumably to try and help protect his identity. A Cubs fan lunges and attempts to rip the jacket out of his hands, and is successfully stopped by security.
He would then give an interview to the local news which is the most stunning sequence in the film. It's not what he says; something to the effect of being mad that Bartman was trying to hide his identity from the world. What's stunning is the tone of his voice: a man who has just borderline tried to assault an innocent man truly, honestly believes that he's the one who has been wronged, since security stopped him. His tone isn't apologetic or even angry, but rather that of a defeated man. In his mind it is clear he had tried to do the right thing by lunging for Bartman's jacket, only for the forces of evil to stop him. It's a momentary and subtle scene, but rarely has a mob mentality been shown more clearly.

In terms of new information with regard to the Bartman story, an interview with the head of security is probably the biggest addition, as she details the fairly ridiculous steps that were necessary to safely get Bartman out of the arena. While contrasting his shy, sorry demeanor to the anger of the crowd, she tears up a little, and it doesn't feel fake.

Bartman was identified by the next day; the police staked out his home. Internet images of Bartman spread. The media staked out his house. Bartman released a statement through his brother-in-law apologizing for the incident, clarifying he wasn't a shadow Marlins fan (yes, people actually thought this). Beyond that, Bartman has made absolutely nothing of his notoriety; he has not given any public interviews, he has not appeared on any show. As Gibney points out, all we're left with is the aforementioned images of him and a few words of apology; this has only made his mythology grow. The "Bartman seat" remains a tourist trap for Cubs fans, and the "Bartman ball" was ultimately purchased for a 6-figure sum and publicly destroyed.

Of note is an ESPN reporter who tracked down Bartman sometime in 2006, only to get a momentary interview in a parking lot. He chose to use this time to apologize for Chicago's behavior. There's perhaps some irony to the concept of stalking a guy three years after he caught a baseball to apologize for all the bad things the event brought to his life.

The Bartman story makes up the 'meat' of the documentary, yet the story is contrasted with former Red Sox player Bill Buckner, who infamously missed a ground ball in game 6 of the 1986 World Series. Both men were scapegoats, but the connection is a bit forced, at best. Still, Buckner telling of how he came to terms with his media image is honest and interesting.


Gibney is most effective as a documentarian when he questions why anyone would've given such negative power to Steve Bartman in the first place. Cubs shortstop Alex Gonzalez made a crucial error in the 8th inning as well that was likely as or more hurtful to the Cubs than anything Bartman did, yet Bartman is the one who gets a documentary while the Gonzalez moment is a piece of trivia. Was it truly superstition? Did the Chicago Cubs fans, in that exact moment, truly believed that Bartman had jinxed the team and acted appropriately based on that info? Was it the media who turned him into a celebrity against his will? At the risk of overdoing it, if a group of Chicagoans can be borderline brought to violence by a man catching a foul ball, does that give us some understanding on how mob mentality can result in violence and even death?

Gibney doesn't provide answers to these questions, but he does a fine job of asking them. The mark of a true documentarian.


WHAT THE FILM SETS OUT TO DO: Explore the Steve Bartman story as a social phenomenon more than a sporting event, and connect the stories of Steve Bartman and Bill Buckner through the common element of scapegoating.


RESULT: Excellent job on the former, not as good on the latter. The intermixing of talking head interviews, documentary footage from the game, media clips and Gibney's narration adds up to the fullest telling of the Bartman story that's likely possible (barring an interview, which Gibney of course could not get). The Bill Buckner story is fine in and of itself, but almost feels like it should've been it's own separate piece. As a result, the film is probably a bit long. At 102 minutes without commercials, it sort of runs out of steam once the Bartman information has been fully explored, and the return to the Buckner story towards the end is a bit awkward.

SIDE THOUGHTS:
- Gibney identifies as a Red Sox fan fairly early in the documentary. To paraphrase an internet comment, there's something to be said about a Red Sox fan making a Steve Bartman documentary about the Red Sox.
- Great moment: A man calls into a Chicago sports show claiming to be Bartman, only to ask the interviewer what he thinks of Howard Stern's dick cheese. Prank calls never get old.
- The interviewer who tracked down Bartman in 2006 is treated largely uncritically by Bartman; there's something a bit odd about tracking down a guy 3 years after the fact and waiting 7 hours for him to get out of work. Perhaps there's journalistic arguments to be made here, but Gibney doesn't really explore it.
- Similarly, there's an interview with a fan who seems to take pride in his harassment of Bartman at one point. Gibney can be excused for not asking any follow ups since the guy comes off like a huge asshole anyway.
- An odd documentary technique is used. Footage of Gibney on a Chicago radio show, discussing the movie, is used to move the narrative of the movie along. It kind of works but I can't recall this being done before.

REVIEW: Moneyball

Moneyball (2011)
Director: Bennett Miller
Writer(s): Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin, story by Stan Chervin, based on the book from Michael Lewis

As humanity becomes more advanced and more intelligent, any major changes to an industry are going to be met with skepticism and resistance. Furthermore, as society advances, we also become more impersonal; what was once the realm of common sense, intuition and experience can become a matter of numbers, statistics, and 'the books'. Baseball, the American past time usually held on a somewhat holy pedestal, is no exception to the rule.

"Moneyball" is the story of Billy Beane (Brad Pitt), general manager of the Oakland Athletics, who finds himself pushing baseball in a radical new direction against much resistance. The reasons are highly practical: coming off an unexpectedly good season in which they made the World Series, teams with higher payrolls have taken the A's star players: Johnny Damon, Jason Giambi, Jason Isringhausen. With only one-third of the funds as their competition, Beane is left with the proposition of replacing a group of players he doesn't have the money to replace.

His brain trust of scouts offers little help. The older men suggest some good-looking prospects; they talk about their body shape, how good they looked in tryouts, the raw numbers, the same methods used for decades. The group doesn't give off a vibe of the wave of the future; one scout has to take a moment to adjust his hearing aid; another misses an easy pop culture reference. More than one is chewing tobacco.

During a routine trading visit to the Cleveland Indians, Beane meets 25-year old Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), and notices both his unusual look for a member of baseball management (he looks like a grad student who is happy to be there), but also the odd sway he seems to hold with the Indians GM.

Hill is best known for his awkward, nerdy humor in Judd Apatow movies like "Superbad" and "Get Him to the Greek"; to his credit, he uses these same instincts to find the right balance of humor and intelligence in his character (comparable to, say, Adam Sandler in "Punch Drunk Love"). Brand is a Yale economics major who has taken an interest in the works of Bill James, who used statistical methods to a new system of baseball player evaluation. Brand is a man of numbers; while Beane sees Johnny Damon as a precious entity in desperate need of immediate replacement, Brand sees "a good starter" who has been overvalued by the world of baseball. Beane at first rejects Brand's ideas out of hand. Then he mulls them over. Then he steals Brand from Cleveland and makes him assistant GM.

Beane and Brand apply their statistical methods to create a team that is as undervalued statistically as they are unimpressive to the scouting crew. Pitcher Chad Bradford (Casey Bond) throws in a 'weird' style. Scott Hatteberg (Chris Pratt) was a decent catcher who has suffered nerve damage, and seems downright surprised when Beane gives him a job offer and confused when they tell him they want him on first base. David Justice (Stephen Bishop) was a star player at one point, but is now 'old'; the Yankees basically pay Oakland to get rid of him; he hasn't quite gotten over his own stardom. None of their raw stats are all that impressive. Coach Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman) has a particular disdain for Beane's methods (and, in one hilarious sequence, subtly expresses his opinion of Brand). Hoffman plays Howe less as a character than as a representation of the old school of thought in baseball. He is, after all, the guy who has to decide how to play these misfits. Beane has very specific instructions on how to play these guys properly, but Howe isn't convinced by the fact Brand crunched a series of numbers on a computer. A power struggle ensues.

Baseball fans will likely know how the season turned out, and any astute viewer can infer that if they're making a movie about it, something interesting must've happened. If you can go in blind, I'd recommend it.

The movie is rounded out by Billy Beane's personal story and family life. He has good reason to be suspicious of the established baseball system. At a young age, he was seen as a potential star prospect, enough that he was convinced to walk away from a Stanford scholarship. Yet his career, to say the least, didn't go as planned. Without overdoing it, both the writers and Pitt effectively portray Beane as a man with regret, perhaps even a slight grudge against the old school of thought; beyond truly believing in his new ideas, he's out to prove a point. Pay particular attention to the scene where Beane asks Brand how the young version of himself would've fit into his statistical methods.

Beane also has a healthy relationship with his daughter Casey (Kerris Dorsey), despite getting divorced from her mother (Robin Wright). For all the snappy dialogue that comes with trading players, the stoic method in which he can tell someone their career is over, and the cynical methods in which he deals with opposition such as Coach Howe, it's the simple scenes where he helps his daughter conduct a song that we see Beane at his most human. Beane makes a major life decision at the end of the film that some will find inexplicable; they should watch these scenes a bit closer.

The strong effort is anchored by a strong script by Zaillian and Sorkin. Sorkin's writing can sometimes verge on overindulgent (this hampered the otherwise good "The Social Network") but they find the right balance here by mainly focusing on Beane as a character. Director Bennett Miller ("Capote") compliments this by allowing scenes to flow naturally and giving them room to breath; there's a common conception that sports movies need to be action-packed and adrenaline-fueled, but "Moneyball" finds itself by going in the opposite direction (in fact, actual shots of baseball being played on the field are highly limited). There's probably a "baseball is boring" joke in that last paragraph, so you can make your own if you'd like.

WHAT THE FILM SETS OUT TO DO: Two-fold: tell the story of how introduction of statistical methods changed the way GMs approached baseball, and do so while exploring Billy Beane as a character.

RESULT: Basic success on both counts. The few scenes of Peter Brand getting into the specifics of the statistical methods were largely interesting, and probably could've been expanded upon a bit (there's possibly the risk of alienating an audience, but this is a Smart Movie anyway).

SIDE THOUGHTS:
- Philip Seymour Hoffman can be an amazing actor; here, he's largely relegated to a side role. He fulfills it well enough, but it can't help but feel a bit like a lost opportunity.
- Outside of a comedic scene in which she's forced to make small talk with Billy Beane and pretend to care about baseball, Robin Wright is highly perfunctory as his ex-wife Sharon and doesn't get much to do
- The song at the end is surprisingly catchy