Let’s lead off with a spoiler alert. The documentary—not unflawed, but quite a good one, on balance—is titled, provocatively, But the demise of Canada’s beloved National League team was not a murder (who) so much as it was a death from natural causes (what).
The film depicts a cast of heroes, including the universally beloved Felipe Alou, a very cool Pedro Martínez, Canadian star Larry Walker and an assortment of beleaguered fans whose loyalty wasn’t reciprocated. And there are villains—cloying David Samson and his former stepdad, owner Jeffrey Loria, and, to a lesser degree, the hapless Claude Brochu.
But above all, there were immutable, unsentimental forces at play. That is, the usual suspects: An unfavorable exchange rate meant that the Expos took in revenue in Canadian dollars, but paid players their ever-escalating salaries in stronger American dollars. A provincial government that—agree or disagree—took a stand that other cities did not, and refused to commit public money to funding a new sports venue. There were the revenues lost and revenues spent maintaining the old venue—Olympic Stadium, a charmless white elephant on the wrong side of town, built to host a few events for the 1976 Summer Games, not 80-plus baseball games a year in a flourishing pro sports sector decades later.
Rule of thumb: When you play in a domed stadium and still face rain delays because the roof springs leaks, you know you’re in trouble. The Expos’ death? Olympic Stadium wasn’t the scene of the crime so much as it was the proximate of the crime.
Nevertheless, the Netflix documentary, which premieres Oct. 21, offers both a poignant, locally flavored love letter and an earnest post-mortem for a franchise that deserves better. The Montreal Expos’ last game was held in 2004 after a strange sort of three-way trade that brought MLB franchises to Miami and Washington, D.C., and eliminated one from Quebec. And more than 20 years later, countless fans have yet to work through their grief. Now here comes the film—explicitly geared to the French-speaking locals—that will provide a bit of balm for what remains an open wound.
The timing for the doc’s release works as well. Never mind that the lone remaining Canadian team, the Blue Jays, of course, are amid a deep postseason run. At a time of tariffs, rhetoric over a 51st state and “American betrayal” chilling neighborly relations, the story of a foreign baseball team, brash Americans and the winners-take-all realities of capitalism add resonance.
recently spoke to Montreal-based director Jean-François Poisson and producer Marie-Christine Pouliot.
Sports Illustrated: What’s your history with this baseball club? Jean-François Poisson: I was young when the Expos were here. So mostly it was through my father. He was a big baseball fan, so I was able to watch games on TV. Marie-Christine Pouliot: Everybody in Quebec, either parents or grandparents, brought them to a baseball game. But for me, actually, my first day [working] in television was at the Montreal Expos. So that’s how I started my career. So I did the four years there, and I was very fortunate to be there on the last game also, and that’s when I saw the impact of when they left, and also with the people with whom I was working. Some of them have worked for the Expos for 30 years. So it was truly, truly heartbreaking.