Eephus

Eephus is a film you can’t hate. This is a film about a ragtag bunch of town residents playing one final game at their beloved baseball pitch before it is converted into a school. The film keeps its approach modest, and any grandstanding message about this baseball game being their refuge or their reason for going on are to be inferred, as the film doesn’t do preachiness like this.
But is it a film you can love? Many have, but for me the final experience was more pleasant than invigorating. I have interacted with players like this (not while playing baseball) and the film captures both the appeal of team ballgames but also how your fellow players can make the experience a drag.
A Eephus is a deceptively slow delivery in baseball. But Eephus the film is deliberately slow pace, unfolding over a single game of baseball. That comes with some funny and endearing moments, my favourite of which might be an onlooker remarking how he has been watching the game for three hours and still is not sure he understands the rules.
But that also means the film is uneven and drags at times. It never leaves too far off its pleasant trail but there’s a time when the ragtag group starts grating a bit. There also aren’t many high points, with the funny moments not exacting more than a guffaw, while the emotional scenes are not allowed to detract too much from what is ultimately supposed to be a fun film.
But as I said, Eephus is not a type of film you can be mad at. But you can’t go in expecting too much either.
Good Boy

Good Boy came about through a lot of effort. Wrangling film crews around to get the reaction of the dog (100 years ago the dog would have been put into so many dangerous situations), not using substitutes, filming from low angles, working with a tight budget, were some of the film’s hurdles.
However, just because a film took a lot of effort to make, and that effort shows onscreen, does not mean the film is worthwhile. Because the makers have encased their novel concept with the most cookie-cutter story and scares. Just because you’re filming from the dog’s POV does not mean you are absolved from creating a scary atmosphere or a visual language that can generate fright.
Is the dog’s owner his tormentor or is he himself being tormented by his ancestors, thereby affecting Indy (the dog) too? By the end of the film you don’t care and I’m not sure director Ben Leonberg does either. There’s an arrogance in the film, that it will coast along on the strength of its concept alone. So in love is the film with it that it doesn’t even show a human face (aside from those glanced on TV).
Perhaps the myriad of acclaim the film has received is a reflection of viewers’ liking for the dog, because I can’t imagine any of the scares are worthy of mention. If you’re still stuck on dark presences climbing up stairs or stereotypical horror film noises, well, then you’re not crafting anything fresh, no matter how high concept the conception.
Good Boy is the worst film I have seen in the course of the project and though there are still a fair few films to go for me to complete the set, I don’t think I’ll see a worse film.