(2007) dir. Chris Sivertson
This is the last Lindsay Lohan movie that I will watch for a while. You know, never say never.
She is really a pretty rotten actress and not an overly compelling screen presence. One of the things that I’ve been noting about her in the previous films that I’ve watched is that she is typically a petulant, annoying, precocious teen whose likeability is meant to come across despite her self-centered selfishness. It’s odd, but it’s almost like she is playing out her own personality and development in these films.
In this case, she takes the next step in this direction, playing a dual role of the “good girl”, the “talented” pianist/writer Aubrey, but also her alternate, Dakota, the stripper, the “bad girl”. In this case, bad girls say “fuck” a lot and also like to fuck, the other, while not virginal, is still more so. She’s selfish and unfriendly, but we are meant to sympathize with her because she’s had a rough life. Both characters believe that they are two parts of a missing whole. And in the end, which I am about to give away here, they turn out to be twins separated at birth.
This actually makes for the film’s few quality elements. Aubrey is abducted by a serial killer and has her right arm and right leg cut off near the central joint. It turns out that Dakota, being Aubrey’s twin, suffers the same fate via a twin-related stigmata. The film’s nicest, cheesy shot shows Dakota’s hand slipping down the strippers pole, leaving long streaks of blood running down it. And actually, the way that Dakota suffers the sudden bizarre loss of her fingers and limbs could have been quite compelling. It’s bizarre and gruesome, but it’s contextualized in a flashback and loses its mystery and power that it could have had.
This situation also leads to the other really camp, bizarre thing about this movie. Lohan runs around most of the movie as a double amputee. She even has amputee sex with her boyfriend. This weirdness actually doesn’t come across as bizarre and shocking as it could. I found myself wishing that Robert Rodriguez had shot this movie. It would have worked great with his Planet Terror from earlier this year. This could have been the year of the amputee.
For all of this film’s potential (I liked the title — it had some noirish bent), it’s terribly executed. The direction and writing are awful. And the (I’m giving away the big ending here now) fact that the serial killer is a spurned piano teacher…well, that lacks a lot of satisfaction. And the weird obsession with blue, which is emphasized throughout in inconsistent and incomprehensible ways, makes you realize that the director was trying to do something. Which is perhaps even more pathetic.