Forgotten

The Dodgers were spiraling.

Their general manager had been fired for racist comments. Their famous manager had loudly lost his touch.

They had not won a full-season championship in more than two decades. They were just a blip on a Los Angeles sports landscape dominated by Showtime.

The Dodgers were plunging into a purgatory of irrelevance from which seemingly nobody could save them.

A sportswriter saved them.

Fred Claire saved them.

The most forgotten hero in Dodger history stepped out of the shadows in 1987 as their instant general manager and created the miraculous monster that came to be in 1988.

Kirk Gibson’s home run? He contrived it. Tommy Lasorda’s Hall of Fame career? He enabled it. The infamous championship Stunt Men? He formed it.

The resuscitation of a Dodger brand during what was quite possibly its darkest moment? It all started with Fred Claire, the longtime Dodger executive who died Monday in his Pasadena home on his 91st birthday.

His quiet presence will forever be missed. His audacious impact should never be forgotten.

Claire was an endlessly kind, disarmingly honest and eternally humble sort whose love for the Dodgers was perhaps best illustrated by the story of his most prized souvenir.

After the Dodgers clinched the 1988 World Series championship in a stunning victory over the heavily favored Oakland A’s, catcher Rick Dempsey approached Claire in the champagne-soaked clubhouse. In Dempsey’s back pocket was the game ball used by Orel Hershiser to strike out Tony Phillips for the game’s final out.

Fred Claire talks with Dodgers coach Joe Amalfitano at a batting cage during spring training.

(Kirk McKoy / Los Angeles Times)

Dempsey handed the ball to Claire in gratitude for the belief shown by the general manager in signing Dempsey and several other journeymen who helped lead the team to the title.

Claire quietly accepted the ball, took it home, put it on a shelf, but several years later realized it was needed elsewhere. At the time, the National Baseball Hall of Fame only had two final-out balls. Once again believing that the Dodgers were more important than himself, he donated his jewel to Cooperstown. The shelf remained empty.

“I just played one role in all this,” Claire told me several years ago. “In getting through our difficult times, I always believed in ‘We.’”

Referring to the Dodgers’ 1987 season as a difficult time was an understatement.

In April, longtime general manager Al Campanis was fired for making racist remarks about Black Americans on the TV show, “Nightline.”

Peter O’Malley, the Dodgers’ president at the time, made the sudden and strange choice to replace Campanis with Claire, the team’s public relations boss who had spent the first 11 years of his career as a sportswriter.

There was much criticism. There was overwhelming disbelief. But instead of apologizing for the promotion, Claire ran with it. One day after taking the job he cut popular pitcher Jerry Reuss and signed unemployed Mickey Hatcher and set the stunt man tone.

”I wanted some fire, and Mickey was the guy who could give us that,” Claire told me. “I don’t know if there were people who doubted me, but I never doubted myself. I knew I had the job for today, and I was going to make the most out of that day.”

He slowly turned a stuffy and entitled team into a lean and scrappy one, and by the time he made the brilliant move of signing free agent Kirk Gibson in January of 1988, the stage had been set.

Nine months later, it was only fitting that Gibson’s famous walk-off homer against Dennis Eckersley of the A’s in the World Series opener scored Mike Davis, who was also signed by Claire.

And the most valuable position player in that series? None other than the guy Claire signed first.

“Fred Claire was amazing,” Hatcher told me. “For a guy who was suddenly put into the limelight, he asked all the right questions, listened to everyone, and believed in all of us.’’

It was this great belief in collaboration that burned Claire in 1993 when he traded seemingly frail pitcher Pedro Martínez for second baseman Delino DeShields on the advice of his medical staff.

Martínez, of course, became a Hall of Famer while Claire became saddled with the stain of one of the worst trades in Dodger history. The perception surely irked a man who was just following organizational advice, but Claire never backed down from his role in the deal.

“The facts have to be the facts, and those facts are, I traded Pedro,” Claire told me.

Another trade ended his Dodger career, as he was fired by the new Fox ownership in 1998 when he publicly announced he had nothing to do with the horrible trade of Mike Piazza to the Florida Marlins.

That was Fred Claire personified, honest to the end, refusing to sacrifice his integrity, never surrendering his dignity.

Because he was too modest for acclaim and too quiet for headlines, Claire essentially disappeared from the Dodgers orbit for nearly two decades after his firing, instead focusing on teaching, consulting, and co-writing an autobiography entitled, “Fred Claire: My 30 Years in Dodger Blue.”

During this time he also became a touchstone for all Dodger alumni, as many former players contacted him daily for advice or help or just to remember the good old days. He never failed to answer a call, never turned down a request, seemingly every former Dodger knew his number and leaned on his goodness.

He was finally honored at Dodger Stadium in the summer of 2017 in an emotional ceremony that was long overdue. By then, he was heavily involved in the last great fight of his life, a battle against cancer that led him to become an important advocate and fund raiser for City of Hope.

In one of his final visits there last month, Claire didn’t focus on his illness, but rather his room number. He was quite proud that it was 4217, because Jackie Robinson was 42. Claire was with Robinson shortly before his death and constantly stressed the connection between the icon and his franchise.

In our final correspondence, on the day before he died, Claire texted me and several others with seven photos.

There were images of him with wife Sheryl, with Lasorda, with Dave Roberts, with several champagne-stained Dodgers in a celebratory clubhouse.

There was also a picture that did not contain him but spoke volumes about his character. It was a simple photo of a plaque bearing the number 42 and accompanied by a quote.

“A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.”

Jackie Robinson said it.

Fred Claire lived it.

Several years ago, DreamWorks Animation veterans Joel Crawford and Januel Mercado pitched the studio an original story centered on friendship and steeped in Filipino culture.

That draft became the animated film “Forgotten Island,” which opened in late September and counts singer H.E.R., Liza Soberano and Dave Franco among its voice cast. The movie focuses on best friends Raissa and Jo, who will soon be separated when Raissa goes to college in the U.S., and the final adventure they take to the fantastical island of Nakali.

The movie opened to a softer $13 million in the U.S. and Canada and has so far made $23.6 million at the domestic box office over two weekends. Globally, “Forgotten Island” has brought in $38.5 million on an $80-million production budget.

That opening haul is lower than the average for original animated films from a major studio, which is about $14.6 million, according to the FranchiseRe movie industry newsletter. But the studio is hoping the movie — which has garnered a strong 95% rating on Rotten Tomatoes — will pick up steam and benefit from the relative lack of animated competition at the box office until the early November debut of “The Cat in the Hat,” developed by Warner Bros. Pictures Animation.

“Forgotten Island” is a big bet for Glendale-based DreamWorks Animation, which like many studios, has largely depended on sequels to drive box office success.

Original animated stories — or original movies at all — have become rarer gambles in Hollywood these days, when sequels and reboots feel like safer options. But Crawford and Mercado knew they wanted to develop a new story together.

The pair, who wrote and directed the film, have been friends for nearly two decades after they met at DreamWorks Animation as storyboard artists. Together, they’ve worked on 2011’s “Kung Fu Panda 2,” 2013’s “The Croods” and 2022’s “Puss in Boots: The Final Wish.” The two bonded over their similar sense of humor and their love for movies, and their longtime friendship was apparent in their easy banter during a joint interview shortly after the “Forgotten Island” premiere last month.

Early on, Crawford and Mercado knew they wanted to tell a story set in the Philippines that celebrated Filipino culture. Mercado is Filipino American and Crawford’s wife is Filipino, so a movie that authentically represented Filipino culture was important to them. In the film, the island of Nakali has many creatures inspired by Filipino folklore, and the characters casually use Tagalog words alongside English.

“There’s a sophistication in terms of respecting that the audience is smart, and doing our part as filmmakers to make sure that the visual storytelling and the context gives everything the audience needs to know,” Mercado told me.

Audiences, too, are more comfortable with content in other languages these days, as I wrote last week about Neon’s Korean-language thriller “Hope.” After all, kids will sing Korean lyrics in K-pop songs, and even “Puss in Boots: The Final Wish” interspersed Spanglish into the story.

“It feels timely to update the way we tell stories, to not treat the audience like, ‘They won’t understand this,’ but really treat them with respect,” Crawford said. “It just felt right to chase authenticity and let go of expectations, especially of what an animated movie should be and has been, and really do something fresh because it’s just coming from who we are.”

In the last few years, animation has been a powerhouse at the box office. Disney and Pixar’s “Toy Story 5” and Universal Pictures, Nintendo and Illumination’s “The Super Mario Galaxy Movie” have each crossed $1 billion at the global box office, two of only five movies to do so this year. In 2024, Disney and Pixar’s “Inside Out 2” was the highest grossing movie in the U.S. and Canadian markets.

Original stories have been tougher. Pixar has recently struggled to match the theatrical success of its prior original films and the slower start for “Forgotten Island” may be a sign of similar hurdles for new stories. But culturally accurate storytelling has paid recent dividends — just look at the success of Netflix’s “KPop Demon Hunters,” which won two Oscars, broke streaming records and sold out theatrical singalongs.

“We believe that there is a platform and space for everyone’s story, for people to feel seen and to know they matter,” Mercado said. “Even when they see a story that is specifically Filipino, if we’ve done our job right, we’ve shown you that you could connect to the story, whether or not you have this experience with the Filipino community or the culture.”

With “Forgotten Island,” Mercado and Crawford also want to push the boundaries of animation beyond its perception as films just for kids. Later this year, films such as Laika’s PG-13 rated “Wildwood” and Brad Bird’s noir film “Ray Gunn” will test the audience appetite for more adult animated and original fare.

“We’re in a time of massive sequels,” Crawford said of stories today. “When you expand where you’re telling them and who is telling them, you naturally get originality. This year has been really exciting for original stories in both animation and live action. You are taking a chance on originality, but it pays off.”

Stuff We Wrote

Film shoots

Number of the week

The Tom Cruise-led “Digger” tanked at the box office last weekend with a domestic debut of $8 million, good enough for fifth place.

The Warner Bros. film was plagued by very mixed reviews from critics, as well as a challenging marketing campaign. The film stars Cruise as an aging oil tycoon whose drilling operations trigger a catastrophic climate change disaster. Worldwide, the film brought in $20 million on a production budget of $125 million.

It’s been a tough theatrical year for Warner Bros., which has seen a string of disappointments before “Digger.” Beyond the cinema, the company is now in the process of being absorbed by Paramount Skydance, with the merger set to finalize Tuesday.

What I’m watching

It’s been yet another busy week, so about the only thing I was able to watch was a few WNBA playoff games. Since the Sparks were left out of the playoff picture again, I’ve sort of adopted the Golden State Valkyries as the next best California team to root for, and what a wild game that was over the weekend against the Las Vegas Aces.