I have a deep appreciation for “The Natural”, but not because of how accurately it depicts baseball, its story (OK, but not mind-blowing), the characters (in my mind, the movie never really gets me to care whether Roy Hobbs reconnects with his old flame or not) or some treatise on being above or dragged down into corruption.
I like “The Natural” because few movies in any genre better depict the intoxicating drug that is wonderment.
In several scenes - the cover coming off the ball, the clock getting shattered, the finale - these are the moments you hope to have as a sports fan. You might get them, you might not, but you dream of them.
The movie synthesized it into one “legend”, but Roy Hobbs represents the experiences we seek from sports. That adrenaline rush, that sense of tribalism and community pride, that feeing of good fortune when you know your team has that one phenom.
In this sense, baseball is just a canvas. “The Natural”, if you think about it, could use any sport to tell its story.
Baseball, though, works best because creates these singular moments, and often, from players who have a hot moment in the sun or just happen to be in the right place at the right time.
Baseball is the ultimate game of failure, so we yearn for those who master the failure, if only for a little bit. It’s a perfect sport to depict wonderment, which then produces passion. Soccer can also do this, but baseball is where more chances are given to the individual to produce wonderment.
Add to that the already-mentioned and wonderful cinematography and the best thing Randy Newman ever did with the rousing score and “The Natural” cuts right to the core of why we live for this ****.
Even if sports more often produces heartbreak, anger, or most frequently, just a mundane existence that mirrors our own, “The Natural” demonstrated what we dream about. For that, I will always appreciate it, and Redford with it.