Director: Anders Lindwall
Writers: Missy Mareau Garcia, Michael Graf, Anders Lindwall
Stars: Craig T. Nelson, Brandon Sklenar, M. Emmet Walsh
Synopsis: A struggling family farmer wagers everything on a high-stakes Championship bet, while his granddaughter’s musical ambitions could be their ticket to a new beginning.
Green and Gold might initially be mistaken for a faith-based story. However, it is far from what the Kendrick or Erwin Brothers have produced over the past two decades. Instead, Green and Gold take a holistic approach to its subtext; emphasizing humility, providence, and harmony with nature. No, the film Green and Gold is not quite The Good Earth. However, Anders Lindwall respects one of America’s oldest and most revered industries: farming.
The film particularly highlights the real struggles faced when land becomes too valuable to be used for growing food. Lindwall’s script maintains an even tone and pace, weaving themes while seamlessly tying together universal subplots of family, faith, and personal passion.
One might wish they had left out the football subplot entirely, as it sometimes feels unnecessary and distracting, but still works.
The story follows Buck (The Incredibles’s Craig T. Nelson), a man struggling to maintain a family farm that has endured for four generations. Buck has taken on a mountain of debt to keep the land in his name, while a local banker (Tim Frank) has been handing out distressed loans across the county—only to foreclose on them as quickly as possible. Why? So he can flip the land into commercial properties.
There is a real sense of community in Green and Gold. Local farmers—one played by the great character actor M. Emmet Walsh—band together, finding joy in small moments but also enduring immense hardship. In the worst of times, some of these proud men, broken by inevitable foreclosures, find themselves with shotguns in their mouths, teetering on the edge of despair. Buck’s granddaughter, Jenny (Juniper’s Madison Lawlor), often sings at his side, her voice a desperate plea, trying to bring them back from that brink.
Jenny is talented, performing her original songs at local Wisconsin dive bars at night. On Sundays, she and Buck sneak away from church to watch their beloved Green Bay Packers play. But everything changes when Buck’s wife, Margaret (The Amityville Horror’s Annabel Armour), crosses paths with a country star (It Ends with Us’s Brandon Sklenar), who offers Jenny the chance of a lifetime. She must then choose between her family and her dreams.
One of the most effective subplots is the sense of community. The film doubles down on this concept, weaving together the bond between a community of farmers and their shared love for the Green Bay Packers. While the latter reinforces the film’s themes, it sometimes feels like a contrived plot device that wasn’t entirely necessary to drive the story forward.
That said, as someone from the land of snowflakes and chicken wings, I can attest that football obsession is very real. Where I’m from, you don’t say goodbye—you say, “Go Bills!” In Green and Gold, you’ll notice that every leaf seems to whisper, “Go Pack!” That’s where the film feels a bit forced—Buck bets the banker that if the Packers win the Super Bowl, he’ll get another year to save his farm from foreclosure. The subplot is a cliché, but it adds some authentic color and character if nothing else.
Or maybe I’m annoyed that no one has written a movie like this for my beloved Buffalo Bills. It’s hard to say.
The movie works because Lindwall’s script weaves everything together through Jenny’s eyes and faith. She was raised by her grandparents—farmers who are the salt of the earth. Her songs reflect her experiences and values; things she holds dear. It’s refreshing how the characters feel believable in their predictability—just as real people’s behaviors often are. The writing never wavers or leads them off course. Lindwall has the discipline to keep truth always within reach of the characters he writes for.
I did enjoy the performances. Sklenar is believable as a musician trying to use someone else’s ideals to market his own. Nelson is grizzled and weathered but always finds a way to land his performance straight on your funny bone. Armour shares a poignant scene with Nelson, filled with melancholy over their shared trauma. Finally, Lawlor is the glue that holds the film together, delivering some of the film’s most charming lines—like when she warns never to trust a man who searches for a fishing spot without a pole.
Green and Gold is far from perfect. Many may find the Field of Dreams-like ending a bit much, but it’s worth watching because it’s well-made, self-assured, and clearly understands its target audience. Lindwall’s film is an engrossing working-class story about faith, farming, and football—a love letter to those who pride themselves on being salt-of-the-earth.
