The term “eephus” is not particularly well-known to those of us who do not follow baseball. However, it is defined as a particular kind of pitch in which the ball is thrown with a relatively low velocity, but still travels in an unusually high arc. The process of waiting for the ball to arrive for the batter to hit is long and often unpredictable. It makes sense that Carson Lund would choose this as the title for his directorial debut – not only is Eephus a wonderful celebration of the sport, it’s a deep and methodical examination of the principles that surround social gatherings, and how an entire history of a community can be embedded in a place. The film is set in a fictional town somewhere in working-class New England, and centres on Soldier’s Field, a beloved baseball ground that is set to be demolished the following day to make way for the construction of a new school. To pay tribute, the town gathers for one final game, with rival teams from within this small town competing in what they are struggling to accept as being the last day that they can call these grounds their home. Mild tensions emerge between players, both within each team and with each other. Memories are shared, and many beverages are consumed in an effort to elongate the last day they will be spending in such a way, leading to some fascinating observations that prove that it is not easy to say goodbye to even the most seemingly trivial places. Lund immediately establishes himself as an essential new voice in contemporary independent cinema, someone who may be new to the role of director (having worked as a cinematographer on a few productions, but only making his feature directorial debut here), but yet still feels so self-assured and confident in his vision, we cannot resist the beguiling charms that pulsate beneath the surface of this film, a challenging and very funny examination of a range of topics, each one circling back to the same set of fundamental ideas that make Eephus such a wonderfully engaging and wholeheartedly unforgettable work that never takes too long to capture our attention, even at its most complex.

While it would take too much time and effort to actually determine the sport that has been most extensively explored as the subject of films (especially since we’d have to take into account country and both its national cinema and sporting history), baseball is certainly one of the most popular in terms of American filmmaking. The reasons for it are not difficult to understand – it has been positioned as a sport designed to unify, being elegant and classical, while also having a very exciting quality that has connected audiences past and present. It also happens to be a sport that doesn’t always require the most impeccable level of fitness, at least at the amateur level, where just about anyone who can throw or hit a ball can do reasonably well. This last part is the appeal of Eephus, since it is set within a community of people who are by no means professionals, but still take their baseball seriously enough to give off the illusion that they are the most skilled athletes, their passion and dedication being more than enough to compensate for any physical shortcomings. The exact mechanics of baseball are ultimately embedded in the film, but they’re surprisingly not the only elements that draw us into the story, since Lund is actively more invested in using the sport as a means to comment on a wider range of themes. Primarily, this is a film about brotherhood and how something as simple as a weekly game of baseball can be the very reason these men get out of bed in the morning. The sport itself is something of a MacGuffin – it exists to contextualise the story and facilitate the plot development, but unlike the majority of films about any sport, the outcome of the game is simply unimportant. What matters instead is how these characters connect themselves throughout the story, showing how something like baseball can be a social adhesive, binding entire communities and generations together in truly extraordinary ways, influencing culture over decades and uniting people who would otherwise never interact had they not shared common ground in the form of a game that clearly means much more than just determining a winner.

The role actors play in forming a film’s identity is often understated, but when it comes to these small, intimate character studies in which everything is communicated through the people enlisted to play these people, it becomes very evident. Lund had the benefit of working in an industry that has become a lot more receptive to giving newcomers access to some very notable actors, and while he may not have had the pick of the litter, I’d expect that there were a handful of notable names that would have leapt at the opportunity to play one of these characters. However, he chooses to go with a cast consisting almost entirely of unknowns, which is not a new approach, but one that nonetheless still feels very much fresh when done by someone who knows how to actually implement it effectively, rather than just doing it for show. The most notable names in the cast are probably Frederick Wiseman, who appears only through a voice performance at the start of the film, and Keith William Richards, who only began acting five years ago when he was scouted for a role in Uncut Gems while on his daily commute. The rest of the cast is built from non-professional actors and amateurs, which lends Eephus a sense of authenticity that would not have been possible had the film been populated by recognisable performers, who would have likely distracted from the key components that drive this film and make it so incredibly compelling. It’s a true ensemble effort, with scenes leaping from one perspective to another, following different configurations of characters as they engage in conversations that range from the wonderfully trivial to outrageously banal, giving the film a sense of genuine charm that could only emerge when we truly believe that these are real discussions. Everything from the history of the hotdog to strategic gameplay are the focus, and each one of these actors beautifully blend into their surroundings, embodying the tone that Lund was so focused on capturing and giving the film a wonderfully unique perspective that feels so much more enthralling in the hands of this cast of people who we may have never seen before, but yet immediately find drawing the viewer in like we are meeting with old friends.

The elements that bind Eephus together and make it so wonderfully endearing are not only the work done by the actors, but also how Lund uses them as devices to tell this story. A lot of the charm we find pushing this film forward is drawn from the tone – it could have been an outrageously broad comedy, or a more stark and harrowing drama (both of which would have been valid), but the choice to find a happy medium that blends both is actually admirable. Melancholy is not an easy emotion to convey on screen, since it can very quickly tip over into overt sentimentality, which is certainly not what the director intended here, with every aspect of the film showing his resistance to heavy-handed commentary, and instead demonstrating a firm affection for a more unconventional tone. The entire film is shrouded in a dreamlike atmosphere – its not surreal per se, but has a quiet sense of the uncanny that only emphasises the underlying ideas, evoking the feeling of sitting in the bleachers of a baseball field that has played a vital role in the community for decades and is now on the precipice of demolition, which is made even more challenging by the realisation that the purpose is not for some industrial development or purposes of corporate greed, but rather to build a school, the destruction being used to improve the community and add to it, which is a fascinating approach that underlines that this film is not interested in aiming for the obvious, contrived ideas that usually populate these stories. The consistent refusal to settle for more overwrought emotions only adds to the experience and makes Eephus a much bolder and insightful film, which is something that becomes even more clear the further we allow ourselves to get lost in the world of this story, a simple but poignant exploration of the continous dialogue between the past and present, and how they communicate towards a very different future.

Eephus is much more than just an exploration of the sport affectionately referred to as “America’s pastime”, and those who may feel hesitant based on its subject matter can rest assured that there are many elements that make the film worth watching, even for those who do not understand the conventions of baseball or even have any interest in seeing a film dedicated to its celebration. Instead, all we need is an open mind and the willingness to just sit with this film as it takes us on a journey – its not always clear about what it wants to say, and we’re never quite sure about whether a particular conversation is designed to push the narrative forward or simply existing for the sake of contributing to the mosaic of ideas that populate this film and which make it so incredibly compelling, even at its most simplistic and straightforward. It’s a complex, challenging and daring film masquerading as an easygoing hangout comedy, where we meet all these people who we can easily recognise as archetypes that are very common in a lot of works – but rather than being merely supporting players, they are positioned front-and-centre, having their own stories told in this vibrant, compelling celebration of America’s favourite sport, with Lund proving himself to be one of the most exciting young voices in contemporary independent cinema if this is anything to base our assumption on. Poignant, heartfelt and never anything less than spellbinding, Eephus is a truly surprising film, and one that we are certainly going to see grow in estimation as time progresses and more viewers become acquainted with this wonderfully effervescent, captivating blend of comedy and drama, destined to become a defining work of this decade.