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You can blame that smug, arrogant, washed-up little wimp Billy Crystal if the Washington Wizards fail to make the playoffs this year. Just when D.C.’s hoops squad was ready to become one of the NBA elite, Crystal had to woo 7-foot-7 center Gheorghe Muresan to Hollywood with promises of Shaqlike stardom. On the set of the new My Giant—a clever, quick-paced buddy comedy for 20 minutes; a sickening, self-indulgent heap of shit for the remaining hour and a half—Muresan was unable to maintain his strict workout regimen and wound up damaging his knees. The big man has yet to suit up for the home team this year, and Wizards sources are whispering that his b-ball days are probably over. Knowing of this tragic turn of events makes viewing My Giant even more painful. Crystal plays a down-on-his-luck talent agent whose luck is changed for the better when he is saved from near-death by Muresan’s Romanian recluse, Max. Director Michael Lehman (Heathers) keeps Muresan’s mumbled dialogue to a minimum by setting up a variety of demeaning sight gags: See Muresan wrestle seven angry midgets, see Muresan stick his nose into Crystal’s crotch, see Muresan die of heart disease as the former funnyman weeps and blubbers, “My giant is dying!” Crystal has taken advantage of an innocent man in order to make a movie ultimately about taking advantage of an innocent man. At area theaters; see Showtimes for venues. (Sean Daly)