Email Randy

Saturday, August 4, 2007

I Know Why Lindsay Lohan Drinks

I debated long and hard about whether or not to even go public with the news that I spent 10.50 on this piece-of-shit movie. But in the end, I realized that my story might serve as a cautionary tale for some confused kid out there thinking of doing the same. And if I can save even one person, then this blog has done it's job. So without further ado...

I KNOW WHO KILLED ME is a "suspense thriller" starring Lindsay Lohan as a cracked-out stripper named Dakota whose arms, legs, and other various appendages begin to one day mysteriously fall off. (Yeah, I'm not kidding.) She passes out and wakes up in the hospital surrounded by a family who have mistaken her for their daughter, Aubrey, who was earlier abducted by a serial killer targeting young girls in the town.

When she's not flashing back to slow motioned pole dancing sequences (which go on for about 12 minutes a pop) Lindsay, as Dakota, spends the better part of the movie trying to convince the family that she is not who they think she is, while simultaneously trying to solve the mystery of why her balls are falling off in the shower.

It isn't until much later in the story (and after sixteen more slow-mo pole dancing flashbacks) that she uncovers the truth that it is in fact her long-lost, identical twin sister, with whom she has a stigmatic connection, who has been abducted and is now being held captive and tortured by the killer. OF COURSE!

By the climax of the film, Lindsay's character is so confused herself by what's going on that she actually signs online to Ask.com, where with one quick Internet search all the loose ends of this pandemonium are instantly tied up. She finds out exactly where her sister is, exactly what is happening to her, and exactly what will happen next. I think this is an amazing and innovative new writing mechanism, aptly used by the brilliant writers of this movie and other recent gems just like it. Why spend all that time creating clever twists and turns to move the story along? That's been done a hundred times! When things get too complicated, simply have your leading character sit down at the computer and Google the plot. It's just much easier for all of us, and leaves more time for pole dancing.

Things are further explained when we learn that Aubrey's parents are not really Aubrey's parents at all. It turns out that the mother had miscarried but didn't know it, and the father, in a desperate attempt to keep things copacetic between he and the Mrs., bought a spare baby off a crackhead in the maternity ward who'd given birth to twins...And what rational, middle class, hard working father wouldn't do that for his fam?

In the end, Dakota sets out to find the serial killer and avenge her sister, because she loves her (and because, selfishly, she doesn't want to lose the other leg.) She succeeds, and finds Aubrey in a cemetery, buried alive by her attacker. After a lot of digging (and one final pole dancing flashback) the girl(s) are finally reunited. The final shot of the film is of both Lindsay Lohans lying limbless in an open grave. It's The Parent Trap with Leprosy.


Just reminiscing about this nightmare of a flop and the 10.50 I flushed down the toilet to see it makes me nauseous, and so I'll quickly conclude by saying that it is a horrifying combination of a 1980's Movie of the Week, an after-hours feature on Cinemax, and someone's freshman project for a college film production class. After seeing it, I do not blame Lindsay for her recent erratic behavior. If I had to choose between promoting this movie and checking into rehab, I'd be drunk every day, going 90 up and down the FDR.


Additional armless photography for Ms. Lohan provided by
Abel Macias

3 comments:

deniece said...

wow mummy, thanks for completely ruining my own experience of wasting 10.50...

copeynyc said...

I'd like to thank you for saving me $10.50!

Shaaaaron said...

If I actually believed this movie was as good as you've made it sound, I'd consider catching the $5.00 matinee at the local cinema.