There are some things you need to understand about me: I grew up in the Midwest, the Chicago Bears are iconic where I grew up, and apparently, I cannot enter an interview room for this movie without someone telling me I need to eat an Italian beef.
Honestly? There are worse ways to start a conversation.
Before we could even get into the movie, we were talking about food, Robert Buckley’s reputation for knowing where to eat, and why I should apparently trust whatever he tells me to order. It was the kind of introduction that immediately made the room feel a little less like an interview and a little more like joining a conversation already happening among friends.
Even though I legitimately forgot my name, their names, and was having an anxiety attack. Lyndsy Fonseca, Robert Buckley and Dustin Rikert didn’t have to put up with me, but they did and I appreciate it.
Because I was an idiot.
And as we kept talking, that feeling made sense. Because underneath the football, the romance, and the excitement of filming in Chicago, the cast kept coming back to one thing: family.
Not just the people you’re related to. The people who welcome you in. The community you show up for. The shared love that makes something bigger than a game.
When Chicago Already Has a Piece of Your Heart
I’ll admit it: I went into this interview nervous.
At the time of our conversation, I had only seen the first half of the movie. And when something involves a team that has been part of your life for as long as you can remember, there’s a particular kind of protective instinct that kicks in.
You want to love it. You really, really want to love it. But you also want to feel like the people telling the story understand why it matters.
The first half had already started winning me over. Hearing the cast talk about their experience made me understand why.
“Shooting this movie was such a pinch-me experience,” Fonesca shared. “Everyone was so kind. The city is so fun and wonderful.”
That’s part of Chicago’s allure, isn’t it? For those of us who carry a little Midwest in our hearts, the appeal isn’t only the place. It’s the feeling attached to it—the pride, the people, and the way a team can become part of your own family’s story.
With Soldier Field and the Bears woven into our conversation, I wanted to know whether making the movie had felt as special as I hoped it would.
What stayed with me was how quickly the answer moved beyond football.
She added, “I just was really blown away by the Bears’ organization and how they were so much—their heart was such a part of this movie.”
Then came the words that, for me, brought everything into focus:
“We know these people well. It felt like family.”
A Love Letter to the People Who Show Up
There’s a difference between putting a beloved team in a movie and understanding the people who love that team.
Listening to the cast, I got the sense that they understood that distinction. They spoke about the responsibility of being welcomed into a community with its own history, traditions, and emotional investment.
“We really work hard to make sure these are love letters to the fans, to the community,” the director, Dustin Rikert explained.
That’s what I wanted to hear—not because it’s a lovely sentiment, although it is, but because being a fan is personal. It’s memories. It’s loyalty. It’s caring deeply about something even when explaining that attachment to someone else feels impossible.
The cast’s discussion of Bears Care, the organization’s charitable arm, brought that idea into sharper focus. They described seeing the team’s commitment to its community firsthand and having the opportunity to include that work in the film.
Rikert added, “It’s not just something that they rubber stamp and talk about. They really do a lot. We’ve seen it in action, and we were able to highlight it in the film as well.”
To me, that connects directly to the meaning of family. It isn’t only about belonging somewhere. It’s about what you do with that connection—how you care for people and how you show up.
Or, as another cast member described the experience:
“It was just like such a warm hug of an experience.” Fonesca said.
And yes, that answer made this Midwestern girl feel a little emotional.
Even the Cast Had Their Fangirl Moments
Of course, we also need to talk about the very relatable experience of trying to act normal around people you’re incredibly excited to meet.
Because apparently, the cast was right there with us.
Rikert, being a lifelong sports fan and called the opportunity “a dream come true.” Fonesca called out Robert for “being such a fangirl and embarrassing me.”
Respectfully, I support the fangirling.
There was also Buckley’s admission about working with Bears player Colston Loveland that made the whole experience feel especially human:
“Okay, you’re old enough to be Colston Loveland’s dad. Don’t make it weird. Don’t make it weird.”
It’s comforting to know that an acting career does not necessarily save you from needing an internal pep talk when your fandom takes over.
But beneath the teasing was genuine appreciation for the players stepping into a different kind of spotlight. The cast talked about the trust involved in arriving on a set, filming a cameo, and trying something outside your usual world.
Fonesca added, “And the players were so wonderful. Great to work with.”
That admiration carried over when the cast attended a game and watched those same players back in their element.
“To see them actually playing … actually watching them do what they’re so good at was really a delight.” Buckley said.
There’s something lovely about that exchange: welcoming someone into your world, then getting to appreciate them in theirs.
About That Second Half…
Naturally, admitting that I hadn’t finished the movie gave the cast an opening to tease me.
“The elements you like, there’s so many seeds planted in the first half that bear fruit in the second,” Buckley promised. I had said they could spoil it for me – but in that moment I regretted it because Buckley was looking at me like I was the enemy for that one.
“And you will shed some tears, let me tell you.”
Which would have been a perfectly reassuring place to leave things.
Instead, someone decided to joke about a surprise death and a killer I would never see coming.
For the record: this was very much a joke, not a plot reveal. But as someone who grew up watching One Tree Hill, I felt entitled to briefly question the trust we had established.
By the time we wrapped, I was heading toward my next interview with a promise of emotional payoff, some entirely unnecessary fictional murder anxiety, and an even greater desire to finish the movie.
What stayed with me most, though, wasn’t the teasing. It was how warmly the cast spoke about the people who had welcomed them to Chicago.
I came into the conversation hoping they understood why the Bears mattered to someone like me. I left feeling that they had found their own reasons to care—and that the love story they were describing extended well beyond the romance.