Can’t Quit This Field

With so many movies released in any given year, there are bound to be a few gems that slip through the cracks. 

Eephus is one of those films you probably didn’t hear much about when it played in theaters earlier this year (if it even made it to your town). But it’s available to watch digitally, and you should do yourself a favor and check it out. Especially if you ever played little league or on a town team (at any age), or you’ve ever considered yourself a baseball fan.

I’ll explain the title right up front: An eephus is a type of baseball pitch — a very slow, high-arcing lob meant to throw a hitter completely off balance. Typically, the hitter will gear up to hit a “normal” pitch, and then, because the pitch moves so slowly, he will essentially lose track of time, and will either swing way too early or he’ll have to awkwardly adjust when the ball finally arrives.

Got it? Good.

Set on a mid-October day in suburban Massachusetts, Eephus the film documents the final rec-league baseball game played by two teams before their beloved field is razed by the town to build a new school. The guys are committed to playing out the string and making the game count, so they stick with it through all nine innings. Even after the umpire takes off. Even after the sun goes down. 

What the film lacks in plot and story, it more than makes up for with atmosphere, personality, and chemistry. Watching Eephus is like being a fan in the stands, hanging out with these middle-aged men and their supporters, trying to hold on to something meaningful before it’s gone forever. Scenes drift. Conversations trail off. Beers are consumed. Nothing is underlined. Sometimes it barely feels like a movie at all.

And yet, that’s where its power comes from, and why Eephus is so special.

What the film absolutely nails is authenticity, the kind that comes from clearly knowing a world and refusing to translate it for outsiders. The flow of amateur baseball, the half-serious rivalries, the way guys talk around what actually matters to them — it all feels observed rather than invented. The filmmakers (director Carson Lund, who co-wrote the script with Michael Basta and Nate Fisher) clearly love this world; their film pays tribute to these types of players without romanticizing them or the game itself, which is a tricky balance many sports movies don’t even attempt.

Here’s a case in point: Early in the game, there’s a stretch where several players sit in the dugout and casually compare aches and injuries. One guy mentions his shoulder, another brings up a knee that’s been “acting up,” someone else admits he probably shouldn’t even be pitching today. What makes the scene work isn’t any single joke, but the rhythm of the conversation. Each complaint is delivered offhand, almost as filler, like the guys are talking about the weather or some other innocuous subject. No one offers sympathy, and no one asks follow-up questions. The group’s shared understanding is that this is simply the cost of still showing up.

The performances help a lot here. To be clear, they’re not great. But this isn’t meant to be Shakespeare. The cast is made up primarily of amateur actors, and each of these guys looks and acts like they’ve been playing in the league for years — because in some emotional sense, they probably have been. That lived-in familiarity is a big part of why the dialogue and behavior feel so genuine.

Appearances by longtime Red Sox broadcaster Joe Castiglione and Red Sox legend Bill “Spaceman” Lee are a nice touch, too.

The film lets awkward silences breathe, lets jokes land imperfectly, and trusts that small moments — someone adjusting a glove or players arguing over a call that doesn’t matter — are enough.

That trust means Eephus demands patience and goodwill. If you’re not already on its wavelength, it probably won’t pull you in. There are also stretches where the movie tests your attention, and a firmer editorial hand might have helped. But, for a change, I’m glad it doesn’t have one.

This film feels handmade, local, and personal in a way that’s charming and increasingly rare. Eephus is a movie about time passing, about rituals that outlast their participants, and about showing up even when the stakes are low. If you show up for it, the film will connect with you quietly — and then it’ll stick around, like the echo of a game played long after the sun’s gone down.

I’m giving Eephus a B+.