Redneckery as virtue. Oh, thank goodness. Another one of these films where everything awful about the United States is bundled in one big package and sold as “inspiration.” The Hill is a wretched film about a dirt-poor kid who overcomes a degenerative spinal disease and an abusive father to play four seasons of minor league baseball … before succumbing to a degenerative spinal disease and the consequences of having an abusive father.
Pastor Hill (Dennis Quaid) has no income. The Sunday plate-passing during the Pastor’s sermon represents whether or not the kids eat that week. The meager, impoverished flock aren’t exactly emptying their pockets. But The Hill family has bigger issues. Middle child Rickey (Colin Ford young, Jesse Berry younger) can barely walk. His spinal problems have set him up in young Forrest Gump territory with stiff leg braces and a sizable stigma. The Hills can barely afford food, let alone health care.
Young Rickey, however, is not accepting his impediment at face value. The kid loves baseball and can swat a thrown rock clear into the next county. His father disapproves. Pastor Hill is quite the disciplinarian; he doesn’t approve of much. We get the idea when he alienates his flock by asking the smoker and the tobacco chewer not to do so during the sermon. The next scene, the flock runs him out of town.
Oh my, there’s so, so, so much to unpack here. The Hill is based on a genuine biography, so the forced exodus probably did happen in some form, just NOT the way the movie says it did. Are you really gonna run your dirt-poor pastor out of town for asking a parishioner not to spit tobacco on the church floor during services? Think about it. Something else is going on here. Oh, and the smoker is a wife-beater. We can tell
this because he smokes in church, like no good person would ever do. But a half-hour after the black-eyed woman shows on screen, we see the good Pastor take a belt to his eldest child, a boy of, maybe, 12.
Tell me, movie, what is the difference between a man who beats his wife, and a father who beats his child? It’s not a riddle; just answer. Why is one “good” and the other “bad?” I’ve got time. I’ll wait. In both cases, it’s about controlling behavior through violence. And bully violence at that. There’s neither acceptance nor reciprocity in either case. In my estimation, the latter is even worse. The wife beater only does it when he’s drunk; at least he has an excuse, albeit a terrible one.
During the forced exodus, the family jalopy craps out in the middle of Texas because dad traded the spare tire for gas … and ended up needing both. Shrewd, dad. Real shrewd. Luckily, a miracle happens when a wealthy man drives by and, noting the Hill’s whiteness, takes pity on them, setting them up in an abandoned church in Bowie, TX. Does the word “freeloader” not apply to pastors? Asking for a friend.
The film is mostly about Rickey’s ability to overcome his physical hardships, but the relationship to his stern father is impossible to ignore. Rickey has a brain capable of memorizing and applying scripture at will, and yet his readin’, writin’, and ‘rithmetic all reek. Rickey’s memorization skills come in handy when dad is a’ sermonizin’ “Preacher’s pet! Preacher’s pet!” However, pop still won’t let him play ball upon punishment of crucifixion or whatever. And that’s even when the kid points out the hokey and highly contrived symbolism of a baseball diamond as a cross.
Seriously. Baseball is approved by Jesus. Thank you, film. Just, thank you. (Look, the sport of lacrosse literally means “the cross,” but that doesn’t mean it’s Jesus approved, ya dinks.)
Well, Pastor, if the kid can’t play, what were you hoping his life will become? Cuz you sure didn’t set him up for the book-learnin’.
And the film presents all of this as: “Hey, life’s rough. Dad is a hard case. Society’s gonna society. You know? He’s a good kid. He’ll get by.” Really, movie. How? How in any normal universe is Rickey anything other than a drifter by the time he reaches adulthood?
By the time the doting children present dad with a birthday surprise of -quite literally- a fast-food burger and fries (presented as “oh, what simple joy!”), I had rendered my own verdict on this insanity.
This film … this attitude … makes me ill. Ours is the wealthiest nation on Earth. Tell me in consoling, articulate, and reasonable words why the kid, Rickey Hill, never received decent health care. And then tell me why God would give a crap about setting up a rickety boy for a minor league career when there are literally a billion other Christians on the planet. Oh, and why would anyone live by the awful belief that the Lord provides. For every kid who can hit a baseball 400 feet, there are literally thousands of dirt-poor families where that isn’t true. Why would a benevolent God care any less about them? And why didn’t this caring God do anything about Dad, His messenger, who SUCKS?
I don’t know how else to put it, so I’m going to run through a scenario: Forget pretending The Hills are Black or Muslim. Too obvious. Let’s pretend dad Hill teaches Klingon. He speaks Klingon. He studies Klingon. He preaches Klingon. He only responds to Klingon. He doesn’t make any money. His children are starving, but it’s still more important that they live Klingon than anything else. Is he not a shitty father? Do you say, “Good for you, dad?”
What say you, pick-yourself-up-by-the-bootstrap people? Here’s the HUGE DAMN PROBLEM: in the United States, we are so forgiving of all things Christian that we go out of our way to laud a terrible human being just because he preaches the word of God according to the most regressive of Christians. Pastor Hill is an awful human being. That, unfortunately, describes a lot (not all, but a lot) of people who preach the word of Christ. Automatic exoneration is not a thing in my book; actions speak louder than words … and your words suck, too, dad.
OK, let’s now suppose you aren’t in the camp of “Why can’t our society feed, heal, clothe, and house every last American?” Even so, wouldn’t you still call the father a horrible failure? Fathers who don’t support their kids, let them be kids, or come to their ball games – don’t we think they’re sorry-ass parents? Why is this different? Fathers who beat their children? Do we not think that’s wrong? Why is this different? Cuz you were beaten as a child? Does that make it right? Do we really think this is the best way to learn a lesson, because the only lesson I learned watching Dennis Quaid was “Pastor Hill is a bully.” If a father couldn’t provide for his family… can’t feed or clothe or house them properly, wouldn’t you call him a deadbeat, a mooch, a “cancer on society?” Why is this different? And, yet, The Hill treats dad like an honorable man who just needed to learn a lesson.
Oh, and then there’s the baseball. For Lord knows what reason, Rickey HAS to prove himself in every.single.at-bat. In a sport where three hits in ten plate appearances represents quality play, the poor crippled kid is given nearly ten chances to prove himself in the film and is required to succeed every.single.time. That doesn’t describe any sport you know, much less baseball. And before I forget, if a kid goes 11-for-11 in a single game, that says much, much more about the pitching than the hitting. KnowwhatI’msayin’?
I haven’t seen a biopic so egregiously unaware since Hillbilly Elegy. You don’t even know the film you’ve actually made, do you? The Hill wants to be an inspirational story of dogged determination, but instead it is an unwitting societal rebuke. Rickey Hill becomes a minor league prospect. Wow. Congrats. Good for you, I guess? The question, to me, is why did Rickey Hill need to be dogged and determined to get anywhere near his dream? Why couldn’t we have fixed his spine from infancy and made sure the kid was properly fed, clothed, and educated during his formative years? And what of Rickey’s siblings? Do we care about them? They lived the same Hellish (Hill-ish?) existence he did and I’m certain got no better treatment. There are a ton of kids who deserve kindness and support even if they aren’t sports heroes, y’know? And if we’re gonna go there, the failure to properly educate a congenital crippled kid whom you expect to live a “productive” life is near criminal.
Disguised as uplifting, The Hill is a miserable experience about mediocre people living a life that could have been so much better if we could only figure out how to make sure genuine societal problems are addressed (like health care, not trans-grooming … whatever that is). But we never will, because in our United States, having faith in Christ is better than solving problems. And it shows in pretty much every small town, backwoods, or dead acre where people have chosen Christ to problem-solving.
There once was a kid who couldn’t walk
But he could belt the Hell out of a rock
So his sibs pushed through
To show what Rickey could do
And if you’re concluding “success,” I’m gonna balk
Rated PG, 126 Minutes
Director: Jeff Celentano
Writer: Angelo Pizzo, Scott Marshall Smith, Bill Chaffin (it took three people to write this mess)
Genre: MAGA fantasy
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Asshole libertarians
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Anybody who can see the film for what it really is
