An American classic that depends on the sport, subculture and colloquialisms of an understanding audience may not make the transition to the United Kingdom as well as expected. It is the reverse effect of projects such as I, Daniel Blake or The Damned United not quite working out their American market. Not because they necessarily need to, but because the culture is so volatile and different in comparison. Field of Dreams is a bridge for that gap, an experience led by grand performances that can include just about everyone in its baseball-led drama, sports jargon et al. Audiences can connect with ideas and cultural pieces beyond their own, but not baseball. Baseball is the sport of hell.
Mob flicks may have dominated a portion of culture for some time, but their influence has ebbed away. Not entirely, and considering how many are still made, we should take note of their style and their impact. But the glory days are over. These are not the days of Scarface and Goodfellas. No Sudden Move, the latest feature from Steven Soderbergh, does not wish to be like those former examples, nor does it wish to cultivate a new direction for the genre. By setting itself and its impressive ensemble long before the days of mainstream crime, Soderbergh enjoys the ability to come clean with engaging realisations of trope-worthy characters.
Hindsight is a beautiful concept. The ability to look back on statements that you yourself have made in the past and laugh at how wrong or stupid you had been around five or six years ago. In my case, hindsight comes rather rapidly and extremely frequently, and in a review for Fuck You All: The Uwe Boll Story, I defended the director saying I had yet to see a truly terrible movie from him. I have now seen a truly terrible movie from German filmmaker Uwe Boll, and In the Name of the King is just that film.