The Year of the Small Movie

If you like “small” films, 2020 was your year.  Next week the 93rd Academy Awards will take place – with people present, no less – celebrating the movies of 2020, a strange year in so many ways that it seems fitting that the film industry wasn’t exempt.  With theaters closed or sparsely attended in 2020, many movies were held back for release in 2021 or were released with little fanfare on streaming services.  I missed seeing previews – often the biggest indicator for me on what to see – and instead had to trust that I was getting wind of good films despite abbreviated or non-existent theatrical runs. Ultimately, I watched twenty-two movies released in 2020, including all eight Best Picture nominees, and while many of them were really good, the mood and feel of many of them were – for lack of a better word – “small.”  I was struck with a maddening desire to watch some honest-to-goodness plot-twisting Hollywood creations, words I never thought I’d utter. 

In 2018 when I saw The Florida Project, I was blown away.  I wrote then, “The Florida Project is one of those rare films that I gravitate toward – short on plot, long on characters and realistic slices of life.”  And while that’s still true, it turns out that if you watch a dozen Florida Project-type films in a row, suddenly small slices of life don’t seem so novel anymore.  In fact, they can seem downright infuriating.

In quick succession I watched Mank, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, One Night in Miami, The Forty-Year Old Version, Never Rarely Sometimes Always, Dig, Malcolm & Marie, Sound of Metal, Supernova, Nomadland, Minari, First Cow and The Father.  Goodness.  Some of those films are excellent – of these, I liked One Night in Miami and The Forty-Year Old Version best – but by the end of that run I was practically begging for a plot.  A development.  A murder.  Something!  Something more than two guys surreptitiously milking a cow!  Too much of a good thing can in fact be too much of a good thing.

In the midst of all of these films, my wife and I also watched Promising Young Woman and Judas and the Black Messiah, and both of these nailed it.  Excellent films, and for us, a breath of fresh air to kick off the dust of our plotless movie run.  Sadly, Charlie Kaufman’s I’m Thinking of Ending Things and The Forty-Year Old Version garnered no Oscar nominations, and One Night In Miami was ignored for Best Picture and Director.  That’s the way these awards shows always go.

But when reviewing this year’s films to last year’s, it seems like a lifetime ago when we were cheering on Parasite, Ford V Ferrari, Jojo Rabbit, 1917 and Once Upon a Time…In Hollywood (plus Uncut Gems and Knives Out), a better batch of films than this year’s, in my opinion.  I’m holding out hope that the 94th Academy Awards will celebrate a terrific set of movies both small and large.

Baseball Begins

Just prior to the beginning of the pandemic-shortened MLB season, I happened to start watching the baseball-themed comedy series Brockmire, and was taken with this quote from the third episode:

“So let’s not make baseball out to be any more important than it really is.  It’s just a diversion that keeps us from pondering our own personal hells.”

I love this, and while I’d never admit that I when I watch a ballgame I’m avoiding my own personal demons, I must confess that I’ve missed the diversion of baseball.  I’ve missed having that little no-think something to look forward to at the end of the day, or – lately - in the middle of a frightfully unscheduled weekend.  A little light that says, “Hey, even if you’ve got nothing else going on, baseball starts at 1:20,” as it did yesterday. 

I grabbed a Pabst from the refrigerator (because it’s $7.99 for a 12-pack and it’s good on a hot summer’s day, that’s why), lay down on the couch, petted my pooch, and listened to Bob Uecker call the game for his fiftieth-straight season.  Perfect. The diversion and it’s accompanying mid-day nap were lovely pastimes indeed right until Peralta gave up four runs in fourth and basically ensured that the Cubs would take two of three from the Brewers to start the season.  At that moment it was baseball frustration as usual.  I turned the TV off and went back to work.

Ah, but there’s another game tonight, another diversion, another glimmer of hope.  And that’s one of the beauties of baseball.

And while I don’t exactly hold out a lot of hope for the Brewers during this season like no other, or for the baseball season in general in light of the horrific number of COVID-19 cases reported each day, I can imagine the following scenario:  after a lifetime of making a silent prayer (okay, sometimes not so silent) to let my Brewers win a World Series title (just one – I’m not being greedy), I can imagine the All-Powerful Creator up in the sky saying, “You want a World Series Title; I’ll give you one,” and THIS will be the year I’m granted my request.  This asterisk-marred joke of a season.  THIS will be the year the Milwaukee Brewers win a championship.  Craig Counsell and his crew will come home to Milwaukee for a parade down Wisconsin Avenue on a chilly November afternoon, and fans will come out in droves to celebrate the stunning achievement of the city’s first title since the erstwhile Braves in 1957, and I will be one of those delusional fans. But I and all of my cheesehead brethren will know…we’ll know that none of it counts.  Nothing counts in what is basically a 60-game exhibition.  And God will say, “Hey, what do you want?  I gave you a World Series.”

Because never once in all my years of praying did I specify, “Please God, let the Brewers win a World Series in my lifetime, but only if it’s a legitimate 162-game regular season.”

Dummy me: I forgot to include the proviso.

The 2020 Brewers

It’s hard for Brewers fans not to be a wee bit excited for baseball this year beyond the usual reasons (springtime, listening to Bob Uecker, watching a boatload of TV), not necessarily because the Crew is expected to win the NL Central this year – or even compete for it – but because there are so many new faces and moving parts, not to mention that we just learned about all-star Christian Yelich’s extension.  I look forward to learning more about the latest Brewers, but I must admit that I’m having trouble keeping track of all the new guys.  You’ve got Josh Lindblom, Logan Morrison, Eric Lauer, Luis Urias, Justin Smoak, Mark Mathias, Brett Anderson, Avisail Garcia, Omar Narvaez, and don’t even get me started on the new relievers.  It’s all a bit overwhelming, but it’s also exciting to imagine how it’s all going to play out.

Less exciting is to think realistically about how the Crew is going to perform this year, not only because of the talent on the field, but because of a new rule change that eliminates a late-season strategy the benefited them in a huge way over the past two seasons.  The Brewers are coming off two playoff appearances in a row for the first time in franchise history (unless you count 1981’s strike-shortened first round playoff, which I don’t), but look behind the numbers and the off-season pickups – particularly in the pitching department – and there’s cause for concern going into the 2020 season.

To put it bluntly, September call-ups saved the Brewers during the last two years, as beleaguered pens were allowed to take a breather during the home stretch.  On August 27 two years ago the Crew found themselves 13 games over .500 but 6 games back in the NL Central and clinging onto the second wild card spot.  They then went 23-7 the rest of the way, with a 20-7 September (including one game in October), winning the division in a one-game playoff with the Cubs.  Pretty remarkable, but then they did it again in 2019!  Another 20-7 September!  At the end of August last year the Brewers were in third place, only three games above .500 and 6.5 games back and 4 games behind the second wild card.  Twenty-seven games later they made the playoffs, losing to the eventual World Series champions.

These were very exciting finishes for Brewer fans, and Craig Counsell’s skill at maneuvering personnel in these successive Septembers probably should have won him at least one NL Manager of the Year, but 2020 will allow no such opportunity.  Major League Baseball has initiated a new rule that limits the active roster to 28 during September and 26 during the rest of the season, up from 25.  This rule change could be huge for a team like the Brewers who doesn’t have a pitching ace and who has to rely on short stints of 4-6 innings throughout the season, taxing the bullpen.  There will be little relief in sight when only two additional pitchers can be added come September.

For the record, I agree with the rule change; it makes no sense for teams to field a very different pitching staff in September than the team that got them through the first five months of the season.  But the new rule is going to affect the Brewers in a big way, akin to how the NFL’s kickoff rule change in 2011 effectively penalized the Bears the most since they had the most talented kick returner in Devin Hester.

So what does this mean?  To me, it means that the Brewers are going to have to have a more consistent pitching staff, better able to manage a 162 game season without the cavalry coming in and saving the day.  But in a flurry of off-season activity largely aimed at plugging in the holes at third, first and catcher created by outgoing Mike Moustakas, Eric Thames and Yasmani Grandal, respectively, the Crew didn’t make the big splash expected in starting pitching.  They instead dealt around the margins, attempting to find value in arms that won’t break the bank and that won’t demand a long-term contract.  This has worked successfully for General Manager David Stearns at times with pickups such as Jhoulys Chacin, Wade Miley, Drew Pomeranz and Gio Gonzalez.  But the Crew’s pitching strategy has also backfired at times, such as last year when the Willy Peralta and Corbin Burnes experiment didn’t go according to plan.  You can’t win them all. 

So, will this year’s experiment work?  Will newcomers Lindblum, Anderson and Lauer joining an effective but still fairly inexperience duo of Brandon Woodruff and Adrian Houser be enough?  And will they be able to eat as many innings as Zach Davies and Chase Anderson, who ranked first and second in innings pitched for the Brewers in 2019?  Will Corey Knebel be effective when he returns from last season’s surgery?  And will Josh Hader and Corbin Burnes be able to limit the number of home runs this season (granted, this was a problem throughout Major League Baseball last year)?

I asked similar pitching questions a year ago, and the feeling going into 2020 feels very much like the feeling going into 2019, except that this year we don’t have the nearly-guaranteed offensive production of Moustakas and Grandal.  Instead, we’re praying that Urias, Navarez, Garcia, Smoak and Eric Sogard take up the slack. And them of course we have the September rule change.

A year ago I predicted 88 wins compared to their eventual 89 wins.  I’m excited for this season – I truly am – but I’m not optimistic.  I think the pitching is finally going to get the better of the Brewers with no September call-ups to save the day.

75 wins.  Fourth place.