The faith-based baseball movie “The Hill” tells the true story of Rickey Hill, who as a boy in 1950s and ’60s Texas wouldn’t let a degenerative spinal condition get in the way of his dreams to play professional baseball.

In reality, it is based more on every other inspirational underdog sports story, hitting every cliched note with sincerity and conviction. Co-writer Angelo Pizzo — the screenwriter of“Hoosiers”(1986), “Rudy” (1993) and most recently the Miles Teller boxing movie“Bleed for This”(2016) — knows this genre by heart.

The star isDennis Quaid(“Strange World,”the Max series“Full Circle”), who is solid as usual as Rickey’s dad, James, a loving but strict small-town Texas preacher who has a “Footloose”-like moral objection to fun. Baseball, of course, falls into that category.

Not only does he disapprove of young Rickey (played by a darn-good Jesse Berry), who has braces on his legs, playing baseball, but even collecting baseball cards is a no-no.

“The image of false idols,” the Rev. Hill grouses as he confiscates a Mickey Mantle rookie card (an amusing inside joke by the filmmakers, as one of those Mantle rookie cards sold for $12.6 million at auction in 2022).

尽管爸爸opposition, Rickey gets support from his mother (Joelle Carter of“Justified”), grandmother (Bonnie Bedelia of“Die Hard”), brother (Mason Gillett) and sister (Hailey Bithell). There’s also the neighbor girl (Mila Harris), who has a yearslong crush on Rickey.

With their support, Rickey comes under the tutelage of a youth baseball coach (Randy Houser), who helps develop his talent, even as Dad refuses to watch him play.

Fast-forward to the 1970s, when Rickey (played as an adult by Colin Ford) has a chance to impress a legendary pro scout (Scott Glenn, Quaid’s co-star in“The Right Stuff”way back in 1983). You can guess where the story goes from there.

“The Hill” is meant to be inspiring, of course, and to some, it might be, but the vibe is more reassuring in the way that it does not deviate from the standard-issue formula of such movies. It is a cinematic case of confirmation bias, designed to fulfill preexisting values and beliefs.

Jeff Celentano’s direction emphasizes a Rockwellian postcard vision of midcentury small-town American South, where even the rusty cars and run-down houses have a golden nostalgic glow.

I’d love to know what the real Rickey Hill was like during those times, and more about his disability and its challenges. In “The Hill” he is more archetype than person.

Reach G. Allen Johnson:ajohnson@sfchronicle.com