If You Film It, They Will Come

In yesterday’s post I wrote about it being “World Series Week” at work. The event scheduled for today was “Movie Time”: Come watch 15 minutes of a baseball-themed film at break time. And in my post I predicted that the film shown would be “Field of Dreams”.

Sure enough, it was.

I also predicted that there’d be a bunch of guys sitting around weeping. Well, I counted, and there were 9 dudes sitting there, all shoveling (free) popcorn down their gullets like they’d never eaten before. And while none of them were openly sobbing, several did look a little misty-eyed.

While I’m duly impressed with my amazing prediction skills, in all honesty Field of Dreams wasn’t that hard of a guess. They certainly weren’t going to show anything “R” rated, and I doubt the Iowa farmboys wouldn’t get the gist of classics like Damn Yankees.

But the main reason behind my picking Field of Dreams as the cinema choice du jour was that it was filmed right here in the Hawkeye State. “Is this Heaven? No, it’s Iowa.” Remember?

I’ve actually been to the Field of Dreams filming locale in Dyersville, Iowa – it’s been preserved by the two families that own the land/ballfield/house, and has become a fairly large Midwest tourist attraction. It’s free to get in, and they’ll even let you play on the same ballfield where Kevin Costner dared to hit pop flies, provided you bring your own mitt, bat, and ball. (No loansies!)

It was actually kind of cool to visit there – I sat on the bleachers for quite a while watching the kids play ball. And while I didn’t see any ghosts materialize out of the fields (the corn was only about 12 inches high at the time – maybe that had something to do with it), I did see the spirit of good times on a lot of faces. Everyone seemed to be at peace and to really enjoy their time with their friends and families. There was no bickering, no kicking dirt in the face of the umpire, and no drunken heckles from the bleachers. (I was perfectly sober, thankyouverymuch.)

True story: When I was thinking of moving to Iowa in 1995 I decided to watch Field of Dreams again, just to get a feel of the state. So when I called my friends out here and told them what I’d done, this was the reply:

“You watched Field of Dreams to see what life in Iowa was like? Huh. (Long pause.) You know, you’d been better off watching Green Acres instead.”

You know what? She was right.

Still, Field of Dreams is a good flick – one I’ve seen probably a dozen times, including once or twice since I moved here. But not once has it turned me into a great big wussy crybaby. No sirree.

Just don’t ask me about Robert Redford’s The Natural. I may get a little verklempt.