James F. Brown. Film producer, businessman, musician, family dude. Book publishing in the 70’s and 80’s. Software industry throughout late 80’s, 90’s, and filmmaking into the 21st century. Restores vintage guitars as a hobby. “Film hangs out at the intersection of art, politics, music, and ideas. It turned out to be the next logical (or illogical) step for me.”

Favorite Films (today)

• Dr. Strangelove
• North by Northwest
• Bang the Drum Slowly
• Lives of Others
• Breathless

Recent Reads

• The Road
• No Country for Old Men
• Short History of Nearly Everything
• In Cold Blood (again)
• Executioners Song (for comparison)

Personal Statement

Like many great projects, this one was born over a beer. Now, three years and 3,000 beers later we are entering film festivals with a real and rollicking screener.

I first met Bill in 1984 after he published his baseball memoir “The Wrong Stuff”. In this book he first suggested that the baseball owners got together and decided to kick Bill out of the game in 1982. Even in 1984, Bill Lee believed he could hook on with another team. He was throwing every day, even while promoting his book. Bill impressed me very much. I found him intelligent, engaging, charismatic, and wryly cynical. Every day he was on tour, he had to talk about his release. I could see it was tough on him.

The story of Bill’s alleged blackballing is one that, to this day, has had no public closure. My initial instinct for the film was to pursue this side of the Bill Lee story. Was he or wasn’t he? How could the tension between labor and management result in a single man’s banishment from the game? How could this happen to a guy like Bill – talented, intelligent, and totally, sincerely committed to the game of baseball? What was the moral compass inside that compelled Bill to speak out and not back down – even if it cost him his job? When did this political side wake up? Why didn’t Bill strive to obtain compensation or retribution through the union or the courts as others had? Was he bitter? This is the story we went after and wanted to tell. We wanted to right a wrong.

We found the answers to all those questions but the path we took was a little wobbly. I feel we have the most sincere telling of the alleged blackballing that I’ve seen or read. Yet, in the process of pursuing the story, we found some real magic. We discovered a heroic, rebellious spirit that is every bit as interesting, funny, and quixotic as Ken Kesey’s R.P. McMurphy; one whose life after baseball — as a self-proclaimed “Baseball Vagabond” — is even more intriguing than his life during pro baseball. As icing on the cake, Bill hails from three generations of California baseball professionals including 85 year-old Aunt Annabelle (Annabelle Lee, no kidding!) whose uniform is in the baseball hall of fame (first professional woman to pitch a perfect game). Every day Bill that pulls on the baseball pants is “a great day to pitch” (the original working title for the film). He is still throwing those lollipop screwballs and keeping his audience totally off guard. When you stand in there with Bill, anything goes… and it usually does.