“It’s getting late early” is one of my favorite Yogi Berra sayings. The Yankees catcher’s accidentally profound aphorisms, such as the immortal “It ain’t over ‘till it’s over” and “Nobody goes there, it’s too crowded,” are the American equivalent of Zen koans, dugout wisdom passed down through the generations. The wonderful new baseball film “Eephus” quotes Yogi a couple of times while taking a similarly comic, plainspoken approach to the indignities of aging and the damnable passage of time. It’s such a breezy, funny movie that you probably won’t notice the cumulative power of it sneaking up on you. Like these characters, you too may find yourself surprised by how early it has gotten late.
This lovely, lyrical film follows the last game played by two adult Sunday league baseball teams on a field slated for demolition in Douglas, Massachusetts. One team is called the Riverdogs, while the other bears the name of its sponsor, Adler’s Paint. It’s not much of a rivalry. It’s not much of a ballgame, either. The men are mostly older and out of shape, drinking beers and smoking butts between at-bats in their mismatched, ill-fitting uniforms. Hardly elite athletes, they do this for the love of the game and mainly, it seems, out of habit. It’s telling how few friends and family members are there to cheer them on.
Director Carson Lund co-wrote the screenplay with Nate Fisher and Michael Basta, juggling an Altman-esque ensemble of 18 players and assorted colorful side characters from the community dropping by to watch for an inning or two. They don’t have the backstories or cleanly defined arcs we’ve come to expect from sports movies. This isn’t the kind of film where old conflicts will be resolved during the big game, and these aren’t the kind of guys who are going to keep in touch after hanging up their cleats. We eavesdrop on their banter while they play together for the last time, the men expressing a full range of feelings through the narrow outlet of busting each other’s chops. “Eephus” is nothing if not a marvel of emotionally constipated New England masculinity. It’s like Tsai Ming-Liang’s “Goodbye, Dragon Inn” by way of Artie Lange’s “Beer League.”
The film takes its title from a high-arcing, low-velocity pitch that moves so slowly it lulls the batter into a dulled complacency, slipping by him when he least expects it. Co-writer Fisher plays a pitcher for Adler’s Paint who, in a breathless monologue, extols the eephus’ almost mystical powers, and it’s impossible not to be tickled that these filmmakers are self-aware enough to have one of the screenwriters himself explaining their central metaphor. It’s baseball as life in all its glorious, quotidian mundanity, boring but passing us by far too quickly. As the day wears on and the sun sets, the game remains tied and the players refuse to leave the field. They pull up their cars and play by the glow of their headlights, staving off the dying of the light to try and finish one final inning.
“How can you not be romantic about baseball?” Brad Pitt asked in “Moneyball.” The national pastime is inherently nostalgic and “Eephus” is set during an unspecified year in what looks to be the 1990s, judging from the automobiles and electronics onscreen. Yet on these boomboxes, the characters listen to rebroadcasts of old games from the ‘70s — occasionally interrupted by spot-on recreations of chintzy radio ads for local businesses — because there’s something perpetually backward-looking about baseball in all its legends and lore. One of the script’s smartest choices is that Soldiers Field is being bulldozed not to make way for a shopping mall or greedy condo development, but to build a school. It’s an investment in a future that for these men has already passed. And it’s a school, so they can’t even get angry about it. (Well, some of them still do. Hilariously.)
Director Lund hails from New Hampshire and worked as an usher at the Harvard Film Archive while attending Emerson College. His New England bona fides are obvious from an early glimpse of a weatherbeaten sign advertising The Ground Round. (Reader, I swooned.) The first voice you hear in the film is that of Cambridge’s own documentary legend Frederick Wiseman as a radio announcer, and the movie gets a late-game jolt from a riotous cameo by Red Sox hall of famer Bill “Spaceman” Lee, a counterculture hero and the only major league ballplayer to be the subject of a Warren Zevon song. Lee emerges from the woods behind the field like one of the ghosts in “Field of Dreams” to dispense some foul-mouthed advice and fan three batters before disappearing just as mysteriously, a playful part of the film’s beguiling tapestry.
One player asks, “Is there anything more beautiful than the sun setting on a fat man stealing second base?” I’ve seen “Eephus” three times now and, like most hangout movies, it gets better (and funnier) on each viewing because you’ve gotten to know the characters and more fully understand their relationships and running gags. It’s the best baseball movie since “Bull Durham” — or maybe “Bad Lieutenant” — because it explores this sport’s peculiar ability to bend and distort time. As the shadows on Soldiers Field get longer, an elegiac ache settles in. “Eephus” is more than a movie about a game, it’s about reaching a time in your life when it feels like it’s getting late earlier and earlier.
“Eephus” opens at the Somerville Theatre and the Coolidge Corner Theatre on Friday, March 14. Director Carson Lund and co-star Bill “Spaceman” Lee will be in attendance at the 7:30 p.m. show at the Somerville on Saturday, March 15 for a Q&A moderated by WBUR film critic Sean Burns. Lund and Lee will also be at the Coolidge for the 3 p.m. show on Sunday, March 16.
Film/TV