ScreenFish

where faith and film are intertwined

Baseball

Baseball in the Time of COVID – A Fan Considers the Season

by Leave a Comment

So, a bizarre sixty game baseball season is about to start. It will be played with no one in the stands. There will be no sunflower seeds because there will be no spitting. No one will high five a teammate who just hit a grand slam. Managers will have to yell at umpires from six feet away (while wearing a mask). NL teams will have a DH. In extra innings teams start with a runner on second base.

But there will be baseball!

Before I go on, I should point out that I am an ardent baseball fan. Last year, I splurged on a twenty game package for Dodgers games. That allowed me into the stadium an hour earlier than plebian ticket holders so I could watch the Dodgers take batting practice. I did that a few times. I have played fantasy baseball for decades. When I go to a game, I keep score, because if I’m ever present for a super-rarity (e.g., a perfect game, hitting for the cycle, or unassisted triple play), I want a record of it. I love the rhythm of the game (what many people find boring). It is the perfect summer sport because you can relax as you watch it. Sure, it has its times of tension, but they are spaced throughout the game. I say all that to let you know that this all means something to me. (I won’t go into theologizing about baseball—that’s just too easy.)

My view for 20 games last year.

I have to say I have mixed feelings about this season. I can understand the owners and players wanting to get some sort of season in. For many that is a financial reason, but it also speaks to their competitive mindset. But I’m speaking as a fan. I could make the argument that baseball should close shop for the year. Sixty games seems like nothing when you think of the normal 162 game season. But at the same time, as a fan, I’m anxious to watch some games on TV (maybe even on my phone if I have to). Let’s face it, it’s been a hard year. We need something to take our minds off all the bad stuff.

At the beginning of World War II, there was talk of shutting down baseball. Some of the best player had already enlisted to fight. There were more important things for able-bodied men to be doing than shagging flies or turning double plays. But, in his ‘Green Light Letter’ to Kenesaw Mountain Landis (the Federal judge who served as Commissioner of Baseball), the President said:

“I honestly feel that it would be best for the country to keep baseball going. There will be fewer people unemployed and everybody will work longer hours and hard than ever before. And that means they ought to have a chance for recreation and for taking their minds off their work even more than before.”

FDR’s letter to Judge Landis

Of course, the employment part of this is reversed in our pandemic setting. Instead, we have been through times when parks and restaurants have been closed; movie theaters are still closed; we have hair that makes us look like hippies; we get excited about a trip to the hardware store. We also need “a chance for recreation and for taking our minds off” our hardships. So, yes, the baseball season, such as it is, is a welcome diversion from the boredom and depression that the last few months have made seem normal.

Of course, there are also some problems. A sixty game season doesn’t really test the mettle of the teams. A hot streak could be all it takes to push into the playoffs. In a normal season, there are some players who have slow starts.

This year, that could mean a really bad season.

On the other hand, there are also players who fade as the season wears on. For them this could be their only shot at MVP. Does that threaten the legitimacy of the season and the eventual World Series champion?

Let’s look again at World War II. Some of the best players (Joe DiMaggio, Bob Feller, Ted Williams, Hank Greenberg) enlisted. As more and more men went to the war, the minor leagues dried up, making the pool of players even smaller. By 1945, Pete Gray roamed the outfield for the St. Louis Browns, finishing the season with a .218 batting average. He lost his right arm in an accident as a child. Speaking of the Browns (the epitome of haplessness), they won their only American League pennant in 1944. (Even after they became the Baltimore Orioles it would be more than 20 years before that happened again.) And World War II was also the reason for the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League (cf. the movie A League of Their Own). Yes, World War II brought some strange things to baseball, but that is one of the things I love about baseball—it creates wonderful lore. The COVID season will probably add to baseball’s delightful mythos.

But there is also a dark side to this baseball season. The players, coaches, umpires, and various stadium personnel are all placing themselves (and their families) at a certain level of risk. Some players have opted out of the season because of that risk. Others may contract the virus in the course of the season. They (or their families) could get sick. Even if they are asymptomatic, they will have to stay away from the team until they are clear (which requires two negative tests twenty-four hours apart). To try to mitigate these risks players will self-screen before they leave home and be screened again at the ballpark. They will be tested every other day. For the players this is good precautionary action.

But this level of testing does raise one of the big problems in how I view the season. The owners are paying for this testing and have even hired their own lab so that the results are done quickly. But where I live testing is not encouraged unless you have symptoms or have close contact with someone who is positive. And then, you may have to wait a week or more for the results. It smacks of privilege for the rich (and most of the ballplayers easily qualify as that). While many people who need testing have to wait in long lines and then wait several days for results, baseball players get to go to the front of the line. I’m not against the players getting tested. But it reflects some of the flaws in our society that have been exposed by the pandemic.

(I should temper this accusation of privilege with a recognition that many of these very well-paid athletes have been very generous in giving to help people who have been affected by the pandemic—both in and out of baseball. It’s worth noting that for all the debating between owners and players about pay while the season was on hold, that many of these people assume an obligation to care for others out of the wealth the game has generated for them.)

Yet, even though there are things about this season that should make us think twice about affirming the idea of the COVID season, as a fan I’m ready for the shout of “Play ball!” Let’s appreciate the stillness that baseball brings. Let’s enjoy the skills on display. Let’s be thankful that the players are willing to go through the testing and risk for us to enjoy their game. But let’s also push for the changes that are so needed in the real world.

You Can Go Home Again: 1on1 with Rose McIver (BRAMPTON’S OWN)

by 1 Comment

Written and directed by Michael Doneger, Brampton’s Own tells the story of frustrated baseball player Dustin Kimmel (Alex Russell) who, after twelve years of fighting the battles of baseball’s minor league system, decides to retire from the sport and return to his small hometown where he was once a celebrated athlete. However, he quickly discovers that much has changed since he’s last been home as his ex-girlfriend Rachel (Rose McIver) and almost all of his friends have moved on with their lives.

Best known for her work as the undead detective, Liv, in television’s iZombie, star Rose McIver was excited to join on the project due to its cast and the strong female role that it provided.

“It was one of those perfect timing things,” she recalls. “It’s really tricky to sometimes to line things up timing wise and [this came up] right before I had to go back [to iZombie]… [Director] Michael told me that Alex [Russell] was involved and I was a fan of his work. I just thought it was a really sweet story that would be able to be told well. Sometimes, in a small independent film, they need to know what they’re capable of doing. If you’re over-stretched and you’ve got too many different locations, the story and characters get diluted. I liked that this was a small, contained story that felt like it had a lot of heart. I really liked the way that Rachel’s character was portrayed too. I’m very used to reading lots of female characters [who are] just supporting the guy’s journey. I liked that, while she might seem sort of slightly more vulnerable to begin with, she actually is on her own journey and makes decisions that I really respect. So, it made perfect sense, really.”

Although the film’s indie status prevented the team from lengthy preparation before the shoot, McIver maintains that part of the joy of working on this film was the opportunity it provided for freedom and improvisation.

“It often happens with these independent films that it was a very short prep [time],” she explains. “What I kind of love is when we’re discovering stuff on camera. Michael gave us the freedom to be able to play things in a variety of ways, including some adlib and improv. Sure, it’s lovely to have this luxury of weeks [of prep] but the upshot of a quick turnaround as you kind of catch your magic. You’re capturing instinct and you’re capturing revelations on screen rather than when it happens in the rehearsal room. So, it was a lot of freedom on the day to play the material and I think that it is what really works with the film.”

With this in mind, McIver was attracted to the story’s emphasis on the cost of following your dreams. Considering the fact that she left her home of New Zealand to pursue her career, she claims that the project was relatable to her own journey as an actress.

“I just think I can understand both sides of the story,” says McIver. “I’ve travelled across the world to follow my artistic pursuits so I can understand where he’s coming from, but I like that Rachel ultimately knows she doesn’t have to live in his shadow and the shadow of his dreams. She has her own [dreams] and there’s more than one way to go about things. I liked the themes in the story. I liked the idea of going back to a small town and the nostalgia that you deal with that. So, it felt like a project that would be very easy to look into for me.”

Despite its focus on Alex’s floundering baseball career, McIver feels that this theme is also developed through Rachel’s journey as she struggles to recapture dreams that she let slip away long ago.

“Yeah, I think that it’s self-confidence and I know a lot of people who tend to be so worried about helping everybody else… that they don’t look at themselves and go on their own inward journey,” she believes. “I think it’s not a selfish thing to do in order to be the best member of your community and family member and partner that you can be. For me, and for Rachel, it’s kind of about learning the value of her own dreams and that she’s not at the whim of somebody else. She can decide what really matters to her. I think she had made a few compromised decisions and, ultimately, I like that she’s on the journey to being the best version of herself that she can be as well as taking care of people.”

“I think we can be afraid of what happens when you let yourself think ‘Maybe I can do this’ or ‘Maybe this could be a part of my life.’ She wants to be a pop star. Maybe it’s that she wants to just have music be part of her daily existence. I think that that’s a beautiful dream just of itself.”

Further, McIver also believes that success for Rachel doesn’t necessarily require global notoriety.

“It doesn’t have to be about a giant international career,” considers McIver. “I don’t think that is success. It’s about feeling like your truest self and making the most of this one short life that we have on the planet. Her music is something that she really gets great pleasure from. So success, for me, would be her playing music and making that part of her life. Sometimes we think [that], if it’s not a career, it’s a failure. I just don’t think that that’s true. I’ve seen so many examples to the contrary of that. I think, for Rachel, I definitely connect with that idea and just make sure you’re using this life as precious.”

Moreover, she also felt that she could relate to the film’s theme of the challenges of going home again. Just as Alex’s return causes an internal struggle within him, she too understands how difficult it can be to go back to where you grew up because of the weight of expectations, be it personal or external.

”When you leave at 20 or whatever, if you go back [home], it’s not just about the place. It’s the nostalgia of being a teenager or being young, and trying to reconcile that with [the fact that] everybody grows up,” reflects McIver. “They’re pursuing their own lives now and [have] moved on. So, sometimes it’s easier to be much more romantic about it when you’ve been away and what it will be like back home but actually everybody’s getting on with their lives. Everything has changed for everybody. I go back to New Zealand–and Alex, who played Dustin in the film, is from Australia and he goes back a lot–but I think for both of us it’s a very relevant theme where we’re able to be so self-obsessed about these things when we go back.”

“[It’s as if] we [think] we’re this instrumental cog in the whole town. But, actually, people have gone on with their lives and you can choose to come back as the version of yourself that you are now. Yeah, there will be all sorts of nostalgic things are awakened in you, but the world keeps moving with or without you. It’s kind of nice to go back and think it doesn’t have to be exactly the same way. That’s not wrong. It will be different and it will be new. I’m trying to just take away any expectations of how that’s all going to fall. For me, [that] makes it a lot easier to go home because if you go back to what you knew at 19, you’re going to be confused.”

As her press responsibilities begin to wind down regarding Brampton’s Own, McIver can now turn her attention back to her role as Liv in iZombie. With the final season currently in production, McIver acknowledges that fans will be excited to see some familiar faces return.

“There are returns of characters that we’ve missed,” she answers. “There are a lot of questions that people ask me about Liv’s family and we certainly start to look more at that in this season. People I think will be very satisfied to see some faces that you might’ve missed from seasons prior come back. Without spoiling too much, the story had started to answer a lot of the questions I hear in interviews.”

 

Brampton’s Own is playing in select theatres and on demand now.

Brampton’s Own: Driven by Distraction

by Leave a Comment

Brampton’s Own tells the story of frustrated baseball player Dustin Kimmel (Alex Russell) who, after 12 years of fighting the battles of baseball’s minor league system, decides to retire from the sport and return to his small hometown where he was once a celebrated athlete. However, upon his return, he quickly discovers that much has changed since he’s last been home as his ex-girlfriend Rachel (Rose McIver) and almost all of his friends have moved on with their lives. Having no backup plan for his life without baseball, Dustin’s journey forces him to confront his past in a way that may change his future.

At its heart, Brampton’s Own grapples with what drives us… and what distracts us. Having plugged away in baseball’s minor league system for over a decade, Kimmel is absolutely determined to get called up to the majors. He believes he has worked harder and been more committed than everyone else on the team yet continues to come up short of management’s expectations. Upon returning home, his mother and ex-girlfriend yearn for him to move on with his life but he simply cannot let go of his hope of making it to the ‘big club’. In Kimmel, there is a tension between dreaming and denial that extends from the depths of his soul. As a result, Kimmel’s character seems both hopeful and tragic at the same time. We root for his success but feel like he remains the proverbial donkey with the carrot just out of reach.

There is something both charming and disturbing about Dustin Kimmel in Brampton’s Own. His goals are admirable—after all, who doesn’t pull for the underdog? —but there seems to be something lacking. He’s just not good enough. As a result, one wonders why he is so bent on making it to the majors. Is it for the fame? To prove that he’s somehow better than those back home? Maybe it’s just to prove them wrong about him? In any case, there is something missing from Kimmel’s soul that needs to be filled by getting called up to the majors. In this way, we wish that he would take pause and recognize the value of the things that are in front of him: love, family, friends. Yet he continues to grind and lean into his dreams, not out of hope but, arguably, out of hopelessness.

Still, at the same time, there seems a certain cruelty about the way others view his lack of success. ‘You said you’d only do this until you’re thirty,’ they remind him. ‘Time to come home and start your life.’ While comments like these could seem like an invitation to rejoin something he may have lost, they carry the sting of disappointment. As such, the people of Brampton seem to be calling him to settle for less than he can be, as opposed to encouraging him when he’s weary. (This may be best exemplified through Rachel who has settled in almost every area of her life, whether it be her career or romantic relationships.) Their lack of grace creates a space where Kimmel seems to be driven to fill that gaping hole in his soul, as opposed to experiencing the type of unconditional acceptance that he so desires.

In many ways, Brampton’s Own wants you to believe that it’s a romantic comedy and it almost has all the pieces in place. McIver provides an earnest and charming performance as the relationally-confused Rachel while Russell is convincing as the frustrated mess that is Dustin Kimmel. However, by the end, the film surprises through its interest in exploring the darker side of what drives us to succeed.

Brampton’s Own is available in theatres in select markets and on demand on Friday, October 19th, 2018.

Fences – If I Do Not Have Love

by Leave a Comment

“Some people build fences to keep people out; other people build fences to keep people in.”

Fences is a film version of an August Wilson stage play which won both a Pulitzer and a Tony. (The screenplay was adapted by Wilson before his death.) Set in an African-American working class neighborhood in the 1950s it is the story of Troy Maxson (Denzel Washington, who also directs) and his family.

fences3

Troy is a hardworking man. He is a garbage collector, but he sees no shame in hard work that provides for his family. His wife Rose (Viola Davis) maintains their home. They have a teenage son Cory (Jovan Adepo) and an older son from earlier in Troy’s life, Lyons (Russell Hornsby). We soon see that there is a hard edge to Troy. He is responsible and expects others to live up to their responsibilities. He is hard on his sons when they do not measure up to his expectations.

There is frustration in Troy’s life. At one time he was a pretty good baseball player, but feels that “the white man” never lets someone like him succeed in sports. At work, all the truck drivers are white, but the blacks work the back of the truck. (When Troy files a grievance, he becomes a driver.) His life has been hard, but he feels that he has made a good life for himself and his family. So he is demanding of those who he is responsible for.

Because of the stage origins, the film has a number of extensive speeches. That may seem to make the film a touch preachy at times; however, those speeches are what makes the film interesting and thought-provoking. Many of them are very good expositions of the work ethic and the American Dream, even though for Troy that dream may be blocked off because of social realities of race.

fences1

One of the speeches he makes is directed toward Cory about “doing right by” someone. Cory asks his father why he never liked him. Troy responds “liking” doesn’t matter. Troy provides for him, that is what matters. He tells Cory not to worry about whether someone likes him, but whether they are doing right by him. While Troy rarely talks of racism (and mostly in regards to sports), we know that society is not “doing right by” Troy and people like him.

As the film progresses, we learn more and more about Troy. At the beginning he seems like a friendly, well-spoken, pillar of working America. Perhaps his job is low on prestige, but he approaches it with pride. He faces his responsibilities fully. But bit by bit we discover that Troy may be less than we have come to believe. For all his work ethic and responsibility, it seems that at his core Troy is unable to love. He may provide for Cory’s needs and encourage his education, it is never clear that he loves his son. He is affectionate with Rose and turns over his pay each week, but is that the same as loving her?

The Apostle Paul in his discussion of spiritual gifts includes thoughts about love that begins:

“If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.” (1 Cor. 13: 1-3, NRSV)

Those words came to mind for me as I reflected on Troy’s story. He is a steadfast worker, husband, father, and friend. But if he has no love, does all of that lose its meaning? All of his good qualities amount to much less than we first perceive because of his lack of love. Without that important virtue all else loses its meaning.

fences2

Photos courtesy of Paramount Pictures

Everybody Wants Some!! – What a Great Time That Was

by Leave a Comment

“Frontiers are where you find them.”

Richard Linklater in recent years has done films that follow the evolutions of relationships over a period of time, such as Boyhood and the Before Sunrise/Sunset/Midnight films. In Everybody Wants Some!! he takes us back to a specific period and reminds us what those days were like. Everybody Wants Some!! has been called a “spiritual sequel” to one of his early films, Dazed and Confused. Just as the Dazed and Confused captured 1970s high school life, this film focuses on the life of an incoming college freshman in 1980.

Jake is entering the fictional Southeastern Texas University as a pitcher on the baseball team. He and other team members live together in a couple of off campus houses. Much of the film is spent displaying jock culture—testosterone-fueled tribalism and the hunt for (or sometimes the talk of the hunt for) women. But the fact that these are baseball players is just the way the story is dressed up. It is really a look at that brief moment (here, the weekend prior to school starting) of new found freedom at the cusp of adulthood as Jake and the others of this ensemble piece begin to define who they will become. While the time setting may trigger nostalgia (I loved those clothes and hairstyles) the film really is not so much about 1980 as it is about that particular time of life.

The setting of 1980 works well to show the various options people might follow. In the course of the weekend the ballplayers make their way to disco, country-western, and punk clubs, each with their own style of music and dress. Those music genres were all alive at that time (although disco was on the wane as the others were growing). Music often was one of the ways people identified where they belonged. For Jake et al. this represents options they are still exploring. So far they are all only identified as baseball players. That is what they have in common and what at this point is giving them a sense of belonging. But we notice that they all are individuals as well and their personalities will at times clash or open into realms that won’t appeal to others. Defining who we are is a matter of where we belong and also how we are individuals. That is the task that these young people are just beginning to confront.

Because we only see them over a few days, we may have a shallow understanding of who they are. But with Jake, as the film moves into the last act (in which he begins to explore a relationship with a drama major), we begin to see a touch of the depth in his persona as noted in how he describes his search for meaning that he wrote about in his admission essay.

The film reflects a slightly romantic view of this period of coming of age. These people are filled with optimism as their lives lay open before them. Of course we know that there will be stumbling blocks in the life ahead of them. But it is pleasant to watch them in this brief window of time and remember when life seemed so hopeful and wish them luck in fulfilling their dreams.

Photos courtesy of Paramount Pictures and Annapurna Pictures.

Where Hope Grows: Hope Springs Anew

by Leave a Comment

Veggieball - Where Hope Grows

This weekend at your local theater, there are two major films that will generate considerable interest from both casual and devoted moviegoers. There’s Pitch Perfect 2, a musical comedy certain to attract a younger audience. There’s also some film about a guy named Mad Max (you might have heard about it here on ScreenFish) that takes place in a bleak desert landscape evocative of a Midnight Oil music video. There’s also a much quieter film called Where Hope Grows that features a baseball player and a grocery store worker with Down Syndrome.  If your cinema is showing the latter, I highly recommend you give it a try before saying hello to either Anna Kendrick or Charlize Theron. You’ll walk out of the building a better person for it.

Where Hope Grows tells the story of Calvin Campbell (Kris Polaha, Backstrom), a baseball player who couldn’t quite make it at the big league level due to a case of the yips. As a result, he finds himself in a daze, simply trying to make it through each day while dealing with the responsibilities of singlehandedly raising his teenage daughter Katie (McKaley Miller, Hart of Dixie).  To a large degree, Calvin fails at this task as he slowly spirals out of control, leaving Katie to take care of him instead.

There is a glimmer of hope in all of this, however. While at the grocery store one day, Calvin meets a guy from the produce department who is actually named Produce (David DeSanctis). Produce has Down Syndrome, yet somehow knows the department like the back of his hand, rattling off identification code after identification code to Calvin before giving him a bear hug. Calvin takes a liking to Produce and develops a friendship with him, even teaching him how to play baseball by having him hit fruits and vegetables in the alley. The challenge comes in the form of Colt (Michael Grant), a co-worker of Produce with an affinity for skirting the rules as he dates Katie (providing a relationship her father cannot). Calvin isn’t happy about this situation—and rightly so—but is powerless to do anything about it because he can’t break out of his tailspin. This leads to some significant drinking that his good friend Milt (Billy Zabka, The Karate Kid) only serves to exacerbate.

Yet Produce remains a significant figure for Calvin, even inviting him to church (which Calvin shrugs off immediately).  He’s always made it a goal to be Employee of the Month at the grocery store, but is always overlooked due to his condition. This leads to a rather tense discussion between Calvin and the manager over fairness and not discriminating against someone because they’re different. The end result is exactly what you’d expect: Produce is passed over for the honor yet again.

Oh, you didn’t expect that? Then the latter half of the film will certainly provide you with some more surprises.

Calvin and Katie - Where Hope Grows
Calvin eventually has a prodigal son moment (see Luke 15:11-32) when, in a drunken stupor, Produce takes his car keys and runs away.  He attempts to show up for an interview to be the manager of the local baseball team but arrives so late that the stadium is completely locked up. Dejected, he traipses through the evening to another baseball diamond and, in the pouring rain, discovers something about himself while attempting to hit balls.  At this point, he begins his comeback by going to church—for an AA meeting where he meets Amy (Brooke Burns, Baywatch)

The climax of the film comes at a family fun center when Milt notices that his wife Susan (Danica McKellar, The Wonder Years) has, thanks to Milt’s lifestyle choices, plants a kiss on a friend whom the two have taken in at their house.  Meanwhile, Cole decides to make his move on Katie in a scene that has scarred me forever from playing Laser Tag. This leads to a denouement that is somewhat predictable but nonetheless jarring.  Can hope come out of all these messed-up lives?  The answer is not an easy one.

Of course, one of the unique things about Where Hope Grows is DeSanctis himself. He plays the role of Produce with a freshness, vitality, and childlike exuberance often missing in Hollywood films these days. Yes, he has Down Syndrome, but a lesson to be learned here is that stereotypes are meant to be shattered—and I think some significant shattering will occur from this film.  Polaha does a nice job as Calvin and has an extremely natural chemistry with DeSanctis (one he described as “instantaneous and organic”) that is evident in their scenes together. This is also the case with the father-daughter relationship he plays with Miller.

A second unique aspect of the film is the nature of how faith-based it is. Where Hope Grows does not attempt to bludgeon people with God, but allows the faith discussion to happen in a semi-organic manner. Produce reads his Bible and sings in the church choir. Susan reads a short passage from Matthew 6 at a critical juncture of the film. There is a scene where Calvin and Katie discuss prayer in a manner that is gripping and challenging all at once. Director Chris Dowling (The Remaining) said that “Faith films tend to write their world as they want to see it rather than what it is . . . [it’s supposed to be] a conversation starter.”  To that end, I think he does a great job of making that happen.

Produce, Calvin, and Amy -- Where Hope Grows
This brings me to the third aspect of Where Hope Grows. Even though it could technically be considered a faith-based flick, I beg to differ. So did Miller, who in an interview I recently had with her, described it as the opposite of a “Hey, look at us; we’re a Christian film.” Although the overarching themes of respecting others, redemption, and making the most of every day are on full display, there’s a grittiness to the picture that will make people sit up and take notice. Calvin’s struggles with drinking are on full display, showcased by numerous bottles of liquor that he downs quite often. There’s an attempted rape scene and some violence. Does this sound like something that churches would probably endorse? However, if you go to the movie’s Facebook page, you’ll see that over 478,000 people have placed a like on it.  That’s not a misprint. Instead, I see it as a fantastic step in the right direction where Christians and those not of faith can dialogue about issues common to both.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that the film is perfect (very few are).  Some of the relationships aren’t explained as thoroughly as they could’ve been (as an example, Calvin and Katie never discuss the missing part of their family—Calvin’s inferred wife). The pacing was a tad slow in places and there’s a confrontation between Calvin and Milt that looks a bit hokey on screen. However, there are a lot of good things that will come out as a result of Where Hope Grows—thanks to a fellow named Produce and an insatiable desire to be a friend who sticks closer than a brother.  It’s a film that will make you walk out of the theater with a renewed zest for life and a challenge to make every day a little bit better than the last.