American society probably puts more pressure on producing a good quarterback than anything else, which makes it all the more confounding that the Jets can never have one.

OK, OK. So that’s not necessarily the takeaway from “Him,” a new horror thriller about the religious fervor that goes with football. For some of us long-suffering fans, football inspires less Messianic zeal than an annual reminder that this is a dark and cruel world and any delusional preseason hope will be quickly and thoroughly snuffed out.

But Jets fan or not, “Him” has a decent point to make about QB hero worship. These are modern gladiators. But if the issue of some thrillers is that they have nothing to say, the problem with “Him” is that it has exactly one thing to say, which it does again and again and again

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