Earlier today I slammed Field of Dreams as a “New Age mess.” Reader DG1965 — who is either an Astromech Droid or a 45 year-old person with the initials “DG” — took issue with that characterization:
Your take down of Field of Dreams is ridiculous. Or else you were the
only male in the theater when I saw it who didn’t have red eyes on the
way out. I mean seriously: its far from perfect but a “mess”? Yeah,
the plot could have been moved along with something else. But it wasn’t.
You’re not a human being, let alone a red-blooded American male fan of
baseball if you aren’t moved by the “People will come, Ray” speech let
alone “Hey, um … Dad? Do you wanna have a catch?”
Look, I’m not made of stone. The speeches — in a vacuum — are moving. It’s gotten a bit misty in Chez Calcaterra while watching the flick on occasion. But that’s because the movie is emotionally manipulative. “Bambi” makes people cry too, but that doesn’t make it satisfying adult entertainment. While the notions of “catch with your dad” and “baseball = good” are inarguable goods, the characters, their motivations and actions in “Field of Dreams” do absolutely nothing to justify the two hour movie that surrounds those notions.
It’s a bad movie. Bunch of sentimental hokum, really.
Now, who wants to talk about “For the Love of the Game?”