It’s not often that Hollywood takes a risk like making a “tearjerker” for men—especially one that doesn’t primarily center on sports or war. In Joe Johnston’s October Sky, the sports are peripheral and the War is Cold. Given how unusual this one is, it should come as no surprise that it was promoted as “From the producer of Field of Dreams”—some things (like whether or not the men show up) just shouldn’t be left to chance. Johnston’s “man-weepie” actually did fairly well for itself, though, making upwards of $30 million at the box office (not blockbuster-level, but pretty good for a drama), and winning numerous awards (all of which were well-deserved).

Based on Homer Hickham’s memoir Rocket Boys (for which the title is an anagram, in case you like that sort of thing), it is set in 1957 and centers on the mining town of Coalwood, West Virginia. Homer (Jake Gyllenhaal) is the son of the mine boss (Chris Cooper) and lives every day with the knowledge that he’ll almost certainly end up working (and probably dying) in the mine. This all begins to change, however, the first time he sees the Soviet satellite Sputnik sailing across the night sky. Homer decides he’s going to build a rocket and enlists the help of his two self-described hillbilly friends (Chad Lindberg and William Lee Scott) and the class nerd Quentin (Chris Owen, making us all wonder once again why nerds always have names that start with ‘Q’). Their rocket-building exploits lead them to local fame and science fair championships, even as they butt heads with Homer’s father and the rest of the mining community.

At its core, October Sky is the tale of a boy and his father who don’t see eye to eye. Cooper puts in a heartbreakingly nuanced performance as John Hickham, a man who’s had his dreams dashed by the realities of life, yet remains steadfastly convinced of his values. Homer is a dreamer who longs to escape his roots but remains willing to sacrifice for his family in the face of adversity. The process these two men go through in coming to an understanding is where this film gets much of its drama and charm—although numerous scenes of rockets blowing up don’t hurt either.

October Sky has the most success on the visual level. Fred Murphy’s cinematography imbues each scene with a washed-out, blue-tinted hue that conveys the oppressive bubble that Coalwood has become for Homer. The decision to shoot in a real coal mine was an inspired one, as its cramped tunnels and creaky, rusted elevator become symbols for Homer’s yearnings. The interplay of these pensive moments and Mark Isham’s brooding score (which consists primarily of mournful cello solos) gives October Sky an atmosphere all its own.

Set against the backdrop of the Cold War, October Sky draws a sharp contrast between those who react to new things with fear and those who embrace them. The world it presents is one where those who live in fear set the rules for those who don’t. This may sound a bit too earnest, but Johnston wisely takes his time in building this world, allowing each character to be believable, nuanced, and sympathetic. Every scene, every incident in this film, helps build it toward an authentic emotional climax. It may be a bit too melodramatic for cynical viewers, but there’s no denying that it’s a masterful film.