THE STORY – In a small Massachusetts town in the 1990s, the Adler’s Paint baseball team, led by Ed Mortainian, face the Riverdogs, led by Graham Morris, in one last game before their stadium is demolished to make room for a new school.
THE CAST – Keith William Richards, Frederick Wiseman, Cliff Blake, Ray Hryb, Bill “Spaceman” Lee, Stephen Radochia, David Pridemore, Keith Poulson, John Smith Jr., Pete Minkarah, Wayne Diamond & Theodore Bouloukos
THE TEAM – Carson Lund (Director/Writer), Michael Basta & Nate Fisher (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 98 Minutes
A game of baseball has a finite duration; the game of baseball goes on forever. But, in Carson Lund’s beautiful sports comedy “Eephus,” these two facts morph into one, as the final game on a soon-to-be-destroyed baseball diamond called Soldier’s Field promises to be never-ending.
It’s fall in Massachusetts, sometime in the 90s. A radio newsreader, voiced by legendary documentary filmmaker Frederick Wiseman, recounts an accident where nothing was damaged because the town was so small there was nothing to damage. Two amateur baseball teams meet to play one last time. Adler’s Paint, led by pitcher Ed (Keith William Richards from “Uncut Gems“), faceoff against the Riverdogs, coached by Graham (Stephen Radochia). Partly to ease his guilty conscience – he was the one who’d decided to develop the site to build a local school – Graham wants the last game to be an opportunity for everyone to have fun. One man has come armed with fireworks, another with cases of beer, and the spectators, who are outnumbered by the teams, are made up of family, well-wishers, and local obsessive Franny (Cliff Blake). The teams are out of shape, middle to late middle age, and have long given up on dreams of athletic success. However, this makes them no less competitive. A batter on a diet has a menu of food shouted out to him by the opposition team as he’s standing at the plate, and an ex-military man, Rich (Ray Hryb), expounds his philosophy that everything is combat. It’s a philosophy the film spends 90 minutes contradicting.
“I’ve been watching this for an hour, and I still don’t understand baseball,” a stoned spectator muses. Non-American audiences may experience a similar bafflement. And yet, despite “Eephus” being drenched in baseball lore – the title itself refers to a certain kind of pitch – ultimately, its appeal is universal. This movie is about adults gathering to play. There is no good or bad guy for whom to root, either in the individuals or the teams. Writers Lund, Michael Basta, and Nate Fischer don’t care who wins or loses. All we know is that the game isn’t over yet. As old knees begin to tire and real-world commitments impinge, players peel off to go home and are replaced. The point of the game is no longer to win but to complete it to everyone’s satisfaction so that everyone can go home with a sense of accomplishment.
Considering those sentiments, this might be one of the most subtly political films ever made. Imagine a double bill of “Eephus” and Alex Garland’s “Civil War“ (even though most people will likely think of Richard Linklater’s hangout baseball movie “Everybody Wants Some” instead). The nostalgia of “Eephus,“ with its vision of an inclusive, generous, and wise America unified by shared rituals, is a rebuttal of the aggressive and exclusive MAGA nostalgia. Here, the pitcher and catcher look after each other, the banter isn’t cruel, and at one point, when the umpire goes home, the teams adopt the honor system on calls, with Franny providing the deciding vote in the case of a tie. Lund’s achievement is that none of this feels folksy or twee. Instead, it feels real and lived in.
The lack of a hierarchy of characters means we hear from everyone and know who each character is, primarily through their interactions with the other players. There are no backstories, no dramatic confrontations, no escalation. There’s just a game heading into the gathering twilight. “Eephus” is one of the more delightful surprises of the year; a laid-back, beautifully shot, and carefully presented sports film, mixing in sentimentality with a bittersweet nostalgia for a layered and entertaining 98 minutes where the game we witness almost feels as if it’s taking place in real-time. Lund’s generosity, unpatronizing tone, democratic eye, and ear are reminiscent of the great John Sayles, who directed the seminal baseball movie “Eight Men Out.” The game will end, and the players will go home, but in a way, the game will never end, and that’s a beautiful thing.
