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Fever Pitch

It’s bad form for a reviewer to read about a movie before he sees it. Like politics in the good old days before polling, film reviewers should go with their guts and try to be as truthful as possible so that blame rests squarely on their own shoulders.
Problems arise when the innocent reviewer consults his local newspaper to determine where and when a film is showing and finds other reviewers’ opinions splashed in with a movie’s advertising. Discovering that a movie has gotten two “enormous” thumbs-up sets up troubling preconceptions – the overt phallic imagery notwithstanding.
(And why is it that these reviews lack the honestly of saying, “Well, neither of these thumbs is actually enormous at all… In fact, one is a little crooked from an early childhood accident and the other is rather erm, well, it’s enormous, that’s for sure… Although some people would call it “character rich.” Enthusiasm can only make a thumb grow so large, you know, and god didn’t grant us all with the same sized thumbs, but it’s not the length (or girth) of your thumb that matters, it’s how you use it.”)
Ah, I digress.
Fever Pitch. I have seen Jolly John commercials that deserve two thumbs up more than this tepid comedy. 
Given how much stock footage is used in this bland little film, it’s difficult to believe that the Boston Chamber of Commerce, the Greater Boston Convention & Visitors Bureau or the owners of the Boston Red Sox don’t have their thumbprint somewhere along the production line. Maybe I should applaud Hollywood for reusing press packages in their films as an effort to recycle film stock, but frankly if it’s an attempt at realism they should have shown a homeless woman urinating in front of the T.    
On the other hand, maybe the stock footage was used to allow the cast to shoot this wreck in a weekend. There’s certainly a kind of sloppy rushed feel to the film, as though it needed to be done before star Jimmy Fallon got back to his real job at Saturday Night Live. Maybe Drew Barrymore wanted some time off to actually read scripts before being cast in dime-a-dozen fluff pieces like Fever Pitch?
So this is what we get nuzzled between stock footage of wonderful Boston in the middle of a picturesque winter – devoid of honking horns, dirty slush, and alarming yellow snow – and stock footage of the Red Sox being even more dull on the big screen than they are on TV: Two actors rushing through a confused hodgepodge of psychobabble, bad dialog and confused plotting.   
It isn’t really love at first sight when frumpy teacher Ben Wrightman (Jimmy Fallon) – get it? Right-man. See, clever, no? – meets career woman Lindsey Meeks (Drew Barrymore). Although Lindsey is won over by Ben’s sense of humor, there’s just something not right about the guy. Throughout the winter the pair make the regular rounds in Boston, but like a werewolf little Benny begins to transform as spring approaches turning into… Yes, you guessed it! A Red Sox fan!
So that’s the movie. Thanks for reading the review, you’ve been a really great audience… Oh, wait, as in the ginsu knife or the endless left-overs left over after Thanksgiving – there’s more!
At the core of this

 

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