61* (2001)

Then there is public perception, which also plays a role in 61*. This manufactured rivalry fueled the press as made-up salacious stories were printed to sell papers. It was so one-sided against Maris that fans booed him every time he stepped on the field. Even worse, he and his family received daily death threats. Maris inevitably turned on and ignored the press, pissing off his few supporters.

What about Babe Ruth’s record? Ruth broke it in a 154-game season, but Maris played 162 games. MLB Commissioner and Babe Ruth ghost-writer Ford Frick (Donald Moffat) declared that unless the record could be broken in 154 games, it would not truly be beaten and thus the asterisk designation in the film’s title. Ironically, let’s consider how McGwire, Sammy Sosa, and Barry Bonds juiced up their records in the early 2000s. Why is there no asterisk on those?

“…I enjoyed 61*, but then again, I’m a longtime fan of baseball.”

61* is a made-for-television movie, and the style and tone indicate as much with its light drama and often laidback performances. It feels like a series of re-enactments and made-up situations to get specific points about the protagonist’s life and other baseball facts across. While this is typical of most biopics, it stands out more here because, quite frankly, Maris was not the most dynamic person in the world, as pointed out many times.

Admittedly, I enjoyed 61*, but then again, I’m a longtime fan of baseball. I followed the Los Angeles Dodgers when it was a family team owned by the O’Malleys. Crystal has helmed a nostalgic look back at when the business of baseball was simple. Unless you’re into the sport, I’m not sure the subject matter will be interesting enough to hold your attention. The behind-the-scenes stories were about teamwork and the game and less about contract talks. The events of Mantle and Maris happened sixty years ago and are a far cry from the business of baseball today. I think Billy Crystal saw that, which is why he had to make this in 2001.