When it comes to sports movies, it seems Hollywood prefers baseball and boxing over the others. Boxing, because it is brutal one-on-one combat that is the essence of moviemaking. But baseball is a bit more of a mystery. Perhaps because baseball is uniquely American. Perhaps because the natural pauses in action allow dramatic effect to build. Perhaps because of its methodical pace it allows actors to emote more effectively. Or perhaps it is because baseball is very symbolic, allowing the game and how it is played to tell allegories about life. All of these elements are present in “Trouble with the Curve,” the new release by newcomers Director Robert Lorenz and Screenwriter Randy Brown.
Gus is a talent scout for the Atlanta Braves. He is also old and having trouble with his eyes, so he fears for his future. When a friend tells his daughter Mickey, a hot shot lawyer, of Gus’ troubles, she takes precious time off from work to be with him on a high pressure scouting trip immediately prior to the draft that will determine his future as a scout. He of course denies his frailties in one moment and demands that she help him the next. His combative personality and her deep-seated emotional scars caused by his minimalist parenting skills cause clashes, both of their professional careers suffer setbacks, and she develops a romantic relationship with another scout. Can they team up to make the correct scouting assessment on their prospect? More importantly, can their dream of familial love overcome the years of hurt and bring them together?
“Trouble with the Curve” is an actor’s movie. Clint Eastwood (“Gran Torino”) is his curmudgeonly irascible self as Gus; anger, pride, disappointment, self-hatred, love, and compassion all register on his craggy face in what should be an Academy Award nominated performance. Amy Adams (“Julie and Julia”) displays more than the mere pluck expected in her role as Mickey; yes, she’s feisty and competitive, but she is able to reveal Mickey’s inner turmoil: her pain, fear, and love, all with integrity and affection. Justin Timberlake (“The Social Network”) plays major league pitcher-turned scout Johnny with glib bravado and a touch of regret. Nuance touches all three performances in believably-written characters: we’ve all met people like this, and while we may not have liked them, we can’t help but like the deft spin these capable actors put on these familiar archetypes.
But what makes “Trouble with the Curve” enjoyable is its thematic message. First impressions, although often right, can be deceiving. The scouting prospect looks overpowering, and his statistics are incredible. Gus appears old and incapable and to have abandoned Mickey as a child. Mickey’s boyfriend matches up with her in intellect, ability, and education, while Johnny’s ambition is to just stay close to the game. Mickey’s professional rival looks hardworking and gifted—a “quality associate.” The bare-boned facts may say something is a sure thing whether in the bedroom, boardroom or ballpark, but what matters is if your heart is in it. Yes, it gets a little hokey, but that is the principal heartwarming and underlying theme in “Trouble with the Curve.”
“Trouble with the Curve” is not thrilling or exciting. It’s not sexy and only slightly romantic. It’s certainly not funny. And while it begins as an all-too-real examination of aging and the fragility of life that may touch a little too close to home for many of us who have lost jobs as we’ve gotten older or placed family above work, or watched loved ones suffer emotionally as their bodies began to betray them, it ultimately tells a story of hope. And that is what makes it eminently watchable.