September 19, 2005

Movies We Hate—A New Series

Movies We Hate—A New Series

Recently, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” had one of our unheralded staff meetings. At said colloquy, a few members of the crack young staff—let’s call them “Chip”—groused that we hadn’t been as rancorous of late. As far as “Chip” was concerned, we’d lost all of our spite, all of our contumely.

In order to remedy this unfortunate situation, “Chip” proposed that we inaugurate a new series of “posts.” Like all our other series, this one will amount to nothing more than a few assorted installments, and then will be dropped down George Orwell’s famous Memory Hole.

We know what you are thinking, dear reader: Sounds pretty good. And indeed it does. The only thing we needed now was an idea for our fledgling new series. What, we collectively pondered, would get our dander up to such an extent as to compel us to resume our torrents of abuse?

After literally seconds of cogitation, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” gave up. It had been close to a full minute of thought, and this, given the state of American higher education these days, was surely a College Try.

But then we were fortunate enough—if those are the right words—to rent a movie that was so irksome we simply had to complain about it. And hence our new series was born: “Movies We Hate.”

The motion picture in question may be a bit of a letdown, actually, since it was merely bad—not galactically horrid. All the same, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” found Fever Pitch, starring Drew Barrymore and Jimmy Fallon well-nigh un-viewable.

For those of you blissfully unaware of the flick, allow us to inform you that Fever Pitch is a romantic comedy focused on a man’s obsession with the Red Sox. Now, don’t get us wrong, dear reader: We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are most assuredly Red Sox fans, and thus the premise of the film didn’t trouble us.

In addition, we have to admit that the geniuses behind Fever Pitch got a couple of things right. For instance, among Drew Barrymore’s group of female friends in the flick is one fat chick. This, we thought, was spot-on: For some reasons, a collective of pretty girls always knows one fat broad. We’re not sure why this is, but it seems always to be true. And the pretty girls are always at a loss as to why the fat chick is the only one among them who isn’t dating. Gee: Who would have thunk it? Jenny’s got such a nice smile, why is she single? Could it be that she has Shamoo’s body?

Sadly, though, we must report that the husky chick could not save the flick. Although we can think of many reasons to detest this saccharine film, one line particularly sticks in our collective head.

At some point in the picture, Jimmy Fallon’s character is at Fenway Park, and the Sox aren’t faring terribly well. Whilst Fallon and his buddies are upset, one among them has the temerity to bark out a line in a Boston brogue that went something like:

“Hey, I wouldn’t go jumping off the Tobin Bridge.”

That, we feel, is surely one the most wretched lines in cinematic history. If that doesn’t prove the screenplay writer’s tin ear, nothing will.

We mean, come on: How forced is a line like “Hey, I wouldn’t go jumping off the [Insert Famous Boston Landmark Here]”? As far as we’re concerned, the answer is “Very, very forced.” A few among us have lived in the Boston area before, and we have never heard anyone utter such a ridiculous remark.

As the result of our violent reaction to this feculent line, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” must inform you that we thoroughly disesteemed Fever Pitch. That movie was so bad that, had we been in Chicago, we would have jumped off the Sears Tower.

Posted at September 19, 2005 12:01 AM | TrackBack