By Mike Glyer
[Written in July 2004 under the inspiration of Ken Gire’s “Reflections on the Movies”.]
His experience has made him into a missionary for baseball immortality. Whatever spirit or force brought back Shoeless Joe has also dispatched Costner through time and space to testify to an anonymous small-town doctor who once had ambitions to play for the New York Giants.
Costner gets Doc Graham to describe his practically nonexistent big-league career, consisting of being dispatched by the legendary John McGraw to play the field in the last inning of a season-ending game. He never even got to bat. Costner assumes he’s been sent to bring Graham back to his ball field in Iowa, and begins to bait the hook by asking about Graham’s unfulfilled desire to compete with the big leaguers. Doc Graham looks him in the eye, asking, “And are you a man who could grant such a wish?” But it’s a rhetorical question, because Graham obviously lacks that wellspring of discontent Costner was expecting, so Costner primes it by saying, to come so close to your dream without ever realizing it, some men would call that a tragedy.
That humorous line is the measure of a mature man. Doc Graham long ago laid down his selfish baseball dreams in favor of a “real job” that serves a community, and being faithful to his wife. Which ought to trouble Kevin Costner more than it seems to because so far in the movie choosing baseball has nearly destroyed his own livelihood and caused him to abandon his wife to their creditors and hostile relatives.
很快阿奇·格雷厄姆在爱荷华州,闪避心头pitches from one of the Chicago Black Sox, watched by Costner, his wife, his daughter. Also present is someone who is incapable of seeing these supernatural ballplayers, Costner’s brother-in-law. In fact, the brother-in-law is ranting about foreclosing on the farm, which has become a money-losing proposition ever since a chunk of it was plowed under the build the baseball diamond. There’s a ruckus, and Costner’s daughter falls off the home-made grandstand. She lies unconscious on the ground, not breathing. Costner’s wife is running to the phone in the farmhouse, but he shouts for her to stop. Time dilates as Costner waits to see if acting on intuition will save his daughter, or kill her.
It’s a touching moment, if much more so for Costner’s character and for me, in the audience, than for Doc Graham, who seems well aware that he passed through this refiner’s fire once before. He knows he will always choose to be a servant, and be satisfied and fulfilled in making that choice. He is honored for that choice, as well, starting with all the resurrected ballplayers on that field in Iowa. And at that point a certain truth begins to dawn on Costner, and on me as I identify with his character, that questing all over the country has taught him to value what’s found in his very own backyard.
The movie’s主旋律question and answer – “Is this Heaven?” “No, it’s Iowa.” – ripples with possibilities. Does it merely typify the shallow expectation of “cultural Christians” that if you’re a good person you go to Heaven, which will be like a National Park populated by our ancestors? Or is it just as ignorant to suppose that Heaven will be someplace utterly supernatural and alien, rather than the perfected image of a place God has tried to teach us to live in all our lives?
However, to obsess about the theological implications of梦想港湾就是忽略了其真正的消息，兼容几乎所有的宗教 - 不要等待直到天堂。充分利用我们的机会的，现在的人是神居住要我们做的。