Based On

 Turning our attention ever so briefly from the ugliness in the world of American politics, I would like to direct you to the ugliness in the world of American entertainment. Not specifically the ongoing writers' and actors' strikes that have doomed us all to watching reruns of Suits, but the difference between reality and fantasy. 

I understand that this puts us directly back in the path of the ugliness of American politics, but I assure you I only have the ugliness of American entertainment in mind here. Specifically, I would like to focus on these words: "Based On A True Story." My jumping off point will be the brilliant film by Joel and Ethan Coen, Fargo. Their little slice of Minnesotan kidnapping gone wrong begins with those words, and for many years fans and critics sniffed around the edges, wondering just how much of the torrid tale of the frozen north was true. On the occasion of the film's twentieth anniversary, Ethan Coen offered up this explanation, “We wanted to make a movie just in the genre of a true story movie." The story of Marge Gunderson tracking down all those bumbling ne'er do wells was not true, but in the genre of truth. 

The 2009 story of Baltimore Ravens offensive tackle was adapted for the screen in the feel-good film The Blind Side. The story of the film: Michael Oher, a homeless and traumatized boy who became an All-American football player and first-round NFL draft pick with the help of a caring woman and her family. At least that is what IMDB would have us believe. Sandra Bullock won an Oscar for her portrayal of matriarch Leigh Anne Tuohy, who rescued young Michael from the mean streets of Memphis, Tennessee. Again, the tagline insists "based on the extraordinary true story."

Maybe the story wasn't quite extraordinary enough, since Michael Oher, a real person and veteran of eight seasons in the National Football League, would like to amend some of that truth. Specifically, the part about how he was adopted by the Tuohy family. Except he wasn't adopted. Michael Oher entered into a conservatorship, which doesn't have the same kind of warmth generated by straight up adoption. Now that sweet legacy is being called into question. Leigh Anne is now referring to Michael as "Mister Oher" - through her attorney. Parties on both sides claim that the millions of dollars generated from the sale and promotion of this conservatorship may or may not have been distributed equitably. 

So the true story turns out to be a little less extraordinary because in the end it seems that it all came down to money. Which might make a great movie.