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Review: Revolutionary Goals—Corneliu Porumboiu's "Infinite Football"

Autuerism and sports fandom aren’t as far apart from each other as the adherents of either might think. The cinephile and fan are both quick to announce their chosen favorites, accumulate vast bodies of arcane knowledge, and build peculiarly personal relationships with lofty, distant figures, Olympian personalities celebrated as much for individuality and style as sheer ability. Regarding the objects of their passions, both are equally quick to effusive tenderness and vindictive hostility. I am, of course, hardly the first to make this connection. In a 1997 article in Britain’s Neon magazine, Irish comic and then-future Black Books creator Graham Linehan penned a kind of comic fantasy envisioning film lovers as gangs of rival hooligans. “Kieslowski fans are bad enough,” decries Linehan’s narrator, a Greenaway partisan, “but when it comes to the worst of the worst, the lowest of the low, everyone agrees at the end of the

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