Getting Your Ass Kicked by Your Hero: A Review of "Big Fan"

For me, getting my ass kicked by my "hero" is the idea of meeting Will Self after he's read my book or some of my stories or this blog, and having him tell me that I'm a shite writer or something more substantially damning like, "tell me, when you work a Debord reference into your story, are you being serious or are you taking the piss because that was fucking god awful, mate."

But for Paul Aufiero, getting your ass kicked by your hero is just that: literally getting the shit beat out of you in a dark, liquor soaked nightclub.

Oswalt is a damn fine comedian, and after seeing this, he's a formidable actor, holding his own when sharing the screen with the likes of Kevin Corrigan and Michael Rapaport. But what's more to me, personally, is that I can't imagine anyone else being able to capture the essence of a guy like Aufiero. Of course, I don't mean this as a dismissal or personal appraisal of Oswalt; I mean this as hey, the guy has shown his geeky tendencies before: in his cameos as an RPGer on "Reno: 911!" and in every appearance he made as Spence on "King of Queens." Call it typecasting if you will, but it's more than that.

In the beginning, Paul is a happy guy. He's a happy guy who is single, lives with his mother, and works as a parking attendant. His only real passion, which he shares with his only friend (played by Corrigan), is Giants football. As well as watching entire games from the parking lot of Giants Stadium, at 11:30 each night, he calls in to the local radio station to defend his beloved Giants against the taunts and slander leveled by an Eagles fan who goes by the handle "Philadelphia Phil."

Of course, everyone in his family exibits frustration towards him. His behavior-- indeed, his entire lifestyle-- is not that of an adult man. He needs, in his mother's words, to "grow up" as his brother and sister have. "Normal" is a wife and kids. Etcetera. This tension is exacerbated by an incident where Paul is viciously attacked by his hero, Giants defender (his jersey # is 54, which is generally a LB designation, but it isn't entirely uncommon to see DEs wearing them) Quantrell Bishop in a nightclub.

It's no surprise that a guy like Paul would have no idea about "club etiquette," or even understand that pursuing your hero is a fruitless endeavor that can only lead to heartbreak. But even in the wake of the event, his concern doesn't shift from Giants football to his own well-being or his sense of justice; no, he awakens in a hospital bed and realizes he has missed his beloved team's blowout loss to the Chiefs. Bishop has been suspended pending the case.

Paul's single-mindedness is a constant throughout the film. He doesn't want the "normal" that his family wants for him. He wants to cheer on his team. He wants them to win. He wants to shut "Philadelphia Phil" the fuck up. Every Giants loss crushes the guy, sending him further into an emotional abyss. But even through that, what struck me was his relationship with his only friend, Sal. Sal is the only person who doesn't want to change him, the only person who doesn't view him as a loser. They are in the same boat, and even when he lashes out at Sal after a loss to the Cowboys, it's not a friendship killer.

My only real complaint about this film is its lack of NFL scheduling knowledge. The Giants (NFC East) would never play the Patriots (AFC East) and the Chargers (AFC West) in the same season (outside of perhaps playing one of them in the Super Bowl). And as a Cowboys fan, the "Dallas Sucks" tee was fucking stupid (editor's note: how very biased of you), but a necessary evil as it is indicative of the divisional rivalry between the two teams.