A Season of Faith's Perfections

20 bucks if you name the movie that title's from.

Lists and movies. The two are synonymous. Top 10 this week at the box office, Top 10 'summer popcorn' movies of all time, AFI's Top 100 of...everything. The list of lists goes on and on. Being that I'm an avid lister--is there a better way to compare things?--and movie watcher, I couldn't believe the good fortune when I discovered Flickchart. The premise of the site is simple enough. It's a battle royale of movies; Wedding Crashers or Gone With the Wind? The Prestige or Gattaca? The Chronicles of Narnia or Basic Instinct? You pick, they rank for you. The drawback? Well, the earlier you rank movies the more likely they are to be ranked higher. For example, the first comparison offered: Zoolander or Predator. Now, much as I like vintage Ahnold I'm afraid I went with Zoolander. For the next 50 comparisons--Zoolander wasn't compared to another movie for that long--I was stuck with Zoolander as my #1 movie of all time. After 1000 comparisons, my top 5 is fairly respectable. However, movies like Tombstone are currently in the 200's while cinematic masterpieces like Point Break sit in the 100's. The greatest inequity to date: my favorite movie of all is languishing near the 300's.



"If you build it, he will come." The words stand out as bright lights 20 years after its original release. The phrase is undeniable, the voice unmistakable. "Go the distance." Everytime I hear the voice I get goosebumps. "Ease his pain." How is Ray supposed to ease Shoeless Joe's pain? Those diabolical Hollywood screenwriters get you with that in the end. It's safe to say, Field of Dreams is to baseball cinema as Hoosiers is to basketball cinema. In the movie, you have the movie superduperstar of his day (Costner), the one man you'd want to deliver your eulogy (James Earl Jones), and an actor that peaked young and now can't find work doing voiceover for Kroger commercials (Ray Liotta). If that sterling description isn't enough to garner your attention, I'm not sure what will. What leaves the most indelible mark on my mind is not the catch scene, where every man watching is crying or obstinately holding back tears; no, it's scene that Archie Graham nearly gets killed. The fact that he was technically already dead doesn't matter, what matters is the wink, the knock down fastball, and the subsequent exchange between Graham and Shoeless Joe.

Shoeless Joe Jackson: The first two were high and tight, so where do you think the next one's gonna be?
Archie Graham: Well, either low and away, or in my ear.
Shoeless Joe Jackson: He's not gonna wanna load the bases, so look low and away.
Archie Graham: Right.
Shoeless Joe Jackson: But watch out for in your ear.

As it goes Archie hits a sac fly and doffs his cap to the raucous crowd of 3. This scene is absolute brilliance in its presentation of the dichotomy between rookie and veteran.

Now, the point of all that meaningless rambling. Field of Dreams presents the reasons baseball matters. It's easier to argue that baseball is trucking to Turner Field, checking out the women, buying 7 dollar hot dogs and 6 dollar beers. It's the classic if....then...argument. If baseball is best presented on a commercial scale with a 100 foot HD jumbotron, then why would it matter anywhere else. Pundits blather on and on about purity of the game as they reminisce about the good ole days. (see Morgan, Joe) But they do so within their familiar contexts. Like most people, they see a small segment of the larger picture. Baseball is a tapestry of experiences, as illustrated best by Field of Dreams. It's Fenway Park on a summer night. It's hitting moon balls to your buddy and seeing if he can catch them. It's knowing Shoeless Joe's career batting average. It's knowing what a southpaw is. It's following your favorite team season after season hoping for faith's perfections. It's being inconsolable when an old stadium is torn down, even if it was a dump. And perhaps, most importantly, it's playing catch with your dad. Baseball. It's Americana.