Yikes. What a question, huh?

"What film best represents what the United States means to you?"

Sheesh. Talk about pressure, I feel like I'm writing a college essay over here.

Naturally, my brain's been feverishly mulling possibilities for a few days now. And quite truthfully, even as I write this, I'm not entirely sure what I'll end up picking when it's over. (If you've peeked at the bottom, though, don't tell me. I'd like to be surprised.) I just hope it's a good one.

The cause de conundrum here, of course, is that there are a variety of ways in which to approach things. For some reason, Falling Down was one of the first titles to slip into my head, probably more a result of a calculated outside-the-box effort than of any sort of brooding, misanthropic mood on my part. And that, ultimately, was what caused me to dismiss it. I think it fits, in much the same way Taxi Driver does, as a darker, seethingly angry view of the shape of things; try as I might, though, I'm not nearly that pessimistic. (And actually, I don't really try that hard. I'm a Pollyanna, and that's just plumb peachy, thank you.) Accordingly, I think the next memory I conjured was of Armageddon, which, pardon me, is a supremely stirring, just-about-flawless blockbuster (quite unlike some), and I'm not the only one who thinks so. Indeed, it took a good bit of consideration for me to decide against this bona fide Baysterpiece. After all, it's a flick about Bruce Willis and the U.S. saving the world, and nothing makes me go more warm-hearted and borderline chauvinist (in the blind-love-of-country sense, not the blind-disdain-of-women sense), but ultimately, it just seemed a bit too polished and big (and mildly familiar) to relate specifically to li'l' ol' never-bailed-out-the-planet me. Heckuva back up, though.

Minor quibbles or not-quite-rights narrowly eliminated a slew of others, all mightily attractive in their own ways: Die Hard; Bonnie and Clyde; Patton; Rocky; The Right Stuff; Rudy; Forrest Gump; 12 Angry Men; October Sky. It's painful to cut All the President's Men and The Sandlot, as they're both perfect films, but each is a bit too specific to define the whole of American experience for me. Much the same with Jim Sheridan's lyrical In America, which is a beautiful outsider's tale, but presents a relatively exclusive perspective. It was interesting, too, to muse about the tantalizing "TV bunch": Being There; Videodrome, Network; Dog Day Afternoon; Quiz Show; but I had to pass on them, too. I even thought about Back to the Future for a while, before I realized my judgment was simply clouded by my unfettered love for the movie.

And then there were two.

One of which, believe it or not, was the viciously underappreciated 1989 Tom Selleck vehicle Her Alibi. (It's six bucks at Deepdiscount.com. Pick it up. I just did.) Selleck's Walter Mitty-ish novelist/wannabe-detective, it struck me late last night, has got everything I love about the U.S. of A.: the sense of humor; the outsized dreams; a good and generous heart; and the desire to believe the best about oneself and others, which, sometimes, allows the best to become true.

And that was it. I was all set to proclaim Her Alibi my quintessential American film, and get my punk ass whooped by any Film.com-reading superpatriots as soon as I set foot outside.

And it totally would've happened, too, if it hadn't been for Field of Dreams.

That's right: My American Movie came from a Canadian. Aside from baseball (which I find boring), aside from matching Her Alibi trait for trait, it deals more clearly, uniquely, and poetically with forgiveness, reconciliation, and, most of all, faith (in a universal sense) than any film I've seen. My life, to me, is about faith, love, and imagination; what I most love about this country is that it recognizes my freedom to make it so.

God bless Ray Kinsella. God bless America. And happy Fourth, everybody.

------------------------------------------

Brian Villalobos lives in Austin, Texas (practically), writes on film and TV, and totally cried at Stuart Little.

[email me]