As a born-and-bred Minnesotan predisposed to being a Vikings fan, I feel like I might be risking my membership in good standing with my mom and her Lutheran church lady friends by saying anything remotely positive about a film so inextricably tied to the Green Bay Packers. But here’s the thing: Green and Gold is much more than a football movie. It’s a warm-hearted story about family, community, and the determination to hold onto what matters most, and it’s through my Minnesota-nice upbringing that I found myself appreciating its simple, honest storytelling more than I expected.

Shot in Door County, Wisconsin, the film, directed by Anders Lindwall, opens with fourth-generation dairy farmer Buck (Craig T. Nelson, Troop Beverly Hills) staring down the barrel of foreclosure. With the weight of his family legacy pressing down on him, Buck places a high-stakes bet on his beloved Packers winning the Championship with his loan officer, in the hopes of saving his farm. Meanwhile, his granddaughter Jenny (Madison Lawlor) dreams of a life beyond the fields that could take her far away from everything she knows.

The screenplay, credited to four writers (Steven Shafer, Michael Graf, Missy Mareau Garcia, and Lindwall himself), occasionally feels like a patchwork of different stories fighting for attention. Jenny’s musical aspirations and her fleeting connection with visiting musician Billy (Brandon Sklenar, It Ends with Us—almost appallingly underused) come and go, while the film flirts with faith-based elements but never fully commits. The result is a narrative that, like many family farms, tries to diversify but risks spreading itself too thin.

Nelson delivers exactly the kind of performance you want (and expect) from him—gruff but tender, stubborn but deeply caring. Even if her storyline feels a bit undercooked, Lawlor brings a sincerity to Jenny that makes the push-pull between honoring tradition and following her heart ring true. Veteran actor M. Emmet Walsh (Knives Out), in his final role, brings a lifetime of craft to his few scenes as neighbor Scotty, giving off a kind of lived-in warmth that can’t be faked. Perhaps the best of the bunch is Annabel Armour as Margaret, Buck’s wife and Jenny’s grandmother. The heart of the family who knows how to play grandfather and granddaughter off one another, Armour’s work is low-key but sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

Though the score composed by Corey Martin with additional music from Jackson Browne and Wisconsin native S. Carey of Bon Iver is pleasant enough, it ultimately proves to be the toughest hurdle for the film to leap over. The disconnect between Lawlor’s speaking voice and her dubbed musical numbers (by musician Natalie Nicoles) creates an unfortunate distraction precisely when we should be most invested in her character’s journey. Each time the singing began, the film’s spell broke, and I couldn’t help but wonder who was actually singing—because it clearly wasn’t Lawlor.

Between Buck’s financial woes, Jenny’s music dreams, and the high-stakes bet on the Packers, a lot is going on, and not all of it lands. Yet something is refreshing about how Green and Gold approaches its themes of community and stick-with-it-ness without pushing secondary agendas. At a time when rural America often serves as an unnecessary backdrop for political messaging, this film keeps its focus on the universal struggles of family and adaptation to change.

The rushed finale leaves some promising storylines unresolved as if the film suddenly remembered it had a game clock to beat. Major conflicts work themselves out too quickly to be fully satisfying, and you wish you could rewind the film to make sure you didn’t miss a more pivotal moment that isn’t there. Despite these bumps, Green and Gold is hard to dislike. It’s a sincere, well-intentioned story about hardworking people facing real struggles.

Produced in partnership with Culver’s Thank You Farmers® Project, the film carries a genuine appreciation for agriculture and the people who keep the industry alive. It won’t turn Vikings fans into Cheeseheads, but it does make you appreciate the passion that fuels both farmers and football fans to fight for what is important—no matter the odds.