fever pitch, part deux

second, it does not work as a romantic comedy. this is true for at least two reasons. first, even a second rate preacher, such as myself, can tell you that you should not wait twenty five minutes to introduce the primary conflict that drives the story (this applies to other genre of literature and film as well). the failure to raise the conflict between fallon's rabid fandom (which is about as realistic as elton john's rabid heterosexuality, by the way) and his broad's yuppie sensibilities, sinks the film from the start. second, fallon and barrymore have less on-screen chemistry than prince charles and lady die. hell, they have less chemistry than me and airport girl! note to the farrely brothers, when viewers have a hard time believing that the main characters would engage in a one night stand, it's going to be a bit difficult to convince them that they would be involved in a long term relationship. for some reason the directors also thought it was a good idea to turn the gender roles on their head by having "the girls" in the movie spend time rock climbing and boxing, while the guys nanced around in an apartment, begging for tickets like strippers for singles, and the lead character faced rejection with pathetic tears instead of a twelve pack of sam adams. playing with gender stereotypes is one thing, but making it difficult for the women in the audience to identify with the female lead and making absolutely verboten for any hetero man in the audience to identify with the male lead, causes more problems than it solves.

the movie also fails on the third level insofar as it is a miserable adaptation of a nick hornby novel. nick writes wonderful novels about how terribly narcissistic, single men discover their humanity and open up their terribly narrow souls. as we have seen with high fidelity and about a boy this theme can be done by american filmakers, and done well. but to turn a nick hornby novel, with the exception of how to be good, into a chick flick is a cinematic sin of the first order.

in sum, i hated this film. in my humble, subtle opinion, ebert and roeper can take the two thumbs they extended in support of this film and stick them up their asses.

whew. i feel better. i should also admit that while i hated the film, i loved the evening. hanging out with kellie and leanne is was tonic for the soul.

dear reader, do sit on your hands until the next edition of jaded reviews, when i will provide my thoughts on john and stasi eldredge's captivating. just to whet your appetite, in the first three pages stasi has already described a conversion experience in which she realized that "i was no longer stasi. i was sacagawea, indian princess of the west, a valiant and strong woman." it was at that very moment that i realized this book is going to be good.