Today's Review: From Justin To Kelly (DVD)
Starring: Kelly Clarkson, Justin Guarini
Directed by: Robert Iscove
Rating: 0 (out of 5)
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The Naked Critic
I initially saw the preliminary release of this
bowl-winder of a movie about 6 weeks ago. I held off on writing the review,
hoping -- no, PRAYING -- that my fury would have abated by the time I had to
publish this. Lucky for you, it hasn't.
However, it's been a few weeks. And some details had been blessedly erased from
my memory. In the interest of being completely fair, I needed to watch it
again. Which means I've now seen it twice, and have contemplated putting my own
eyes and eardrums out with a pair of dull chopsticks at least a dozen times in
total during said viewings. The shit that I endure for you people...
It doesn't get better, or campier, the second time around. In fact, I had
poured myself a nice, tall glass of Stoli Vanil vanilla-flavoured vodka -- with
a splash of cola for colour -- to try and dull the pain. The only perceivable
difference is that it's really hard to find dull chopsticks when you're 'faced.
Okay, on to the movie. First off, I'd like to see a show of hands here.
Everyone who DIDN'T know that this was going to suck raise your hand.
Uh-huh...I see. Out of a couple hundred subscribers, I see exactly ONE hand up.
And that hand belongs to my friend Darren. And Darren considers "The
Cutting Edge" with D. B. Sweeney and Moira Kelly to be one of the best
movies ever made. Darren is a sad man. Put your hand down, Darren. You're
embarrassing yourself.
Back to the movie: There are two things you need to know about this film before
we go any further. One is that 20th Century Fox refused to screen it for
critics before its initial theatrical release. The other is that the DVD
release was initially scheduled for 6 WEEKS after the theatrical release. When
even a Hollywood Studio knows a movie sucks, you're in for some grade-A
crapola, my friends. The only thing Fox DIDN'T do is change their name to Alan
Smithee.
And, as bad as that sounds, the movie is actually worse.
In case you've been living in a cave playing Rummoli with Saddam and Osama for
the past several months, you should know that Justin and Kelly were the two
finalists in the first season of American Idol. Justin, by the way, is the more
feminine-looking one with the Chia-pet hair.
As the movie opens, Kelly (Kelly Clarkson) is singing. But she's singing to a
nearly empty bar with only a couple of drunken rednecks within earshot. One of
them is - aw shucks - sweet on her. And how could he not be? She's in an empty
bar in Texas singing over-produced pop! Plus, she has a big K on her shirt...in
case you didn't know she was Kelly. Kind of like a modern-day Laverne DeFazio,
but without the greasy, gay neighbours.
So, after rebuffing the advances of Luke (Christopher Brian), she gets the
opportunity to go to Florida for Spring Break. And, although this should be a
welcome break from mopping up blood, teeth, and urine in her Texas cantina,
she's not sure that she wants to go. Then her bitch friends let her in on the
deal...they're only inviting her because she can drive them. Let this be a
lesson to all you young girls out there...allow yourself to be used by your
friends! This sets up the opening credit montage, which is essentially lame
stock footage of Florida with a lame cover of The Go-Go's "Vacation"
playing in the background. I'd be tempted to call this the worst Go-Go's cover
of all time, but it's very possible that Jessica Simpson or Michelle Branch
have recorded a version of "Our Lips Are Sealed" at some point that
would turn me into a liar.
So, within moments, Kelly and her friends are on the beach, bumping and
grinding with total strangers. She finds Justin (Justin Guarini) pretty much at
random, they dry-hump for about a millisecond, oozing all the sexual chemistry
of mud and celery, and decide they're made for each other.
But, is Justin everything he appears to be? After all, he's known as the
"Mayor of Spring Break". He's actually a partner in a promotions
company that tries to get wholesome, spring-breaking teens to appear in events
like whipped-cream bikini contests.
Now at this point, you might be thinking "Whipped Cream Bikinis? Woo-hoo!
It's Girls Gone Wild!". You'd be wrong...dead wrong. In fact, you couldn't
be wronger if your name was Wrongy McWrongerson, from Wrongville,
Wrongsylvania. This is the world's tamest group of kids. These youngsters exude
all of the sexuality of an abstinence rally in Salt Lake City. While we
occasionally SEE an alcoholic beverage, at no point does anyone actually
CONSUME it. This, my friends, is my idea of Hell. It's like being trapped on
the Survivor Island with Up With People.
Then there are the supporting players. Kelly's two friends are Kaya (Anika Noni
Rose), the only black woman on the entire beach, and Alexa (Katherine Bailess),
a scheming blonde bitch with a Texas twang so thick that she makes Cletus from
"The Simpsons" look like a Harvard-educated economist. Seriously,
it's so bad that even the cast of "Hee Haw" would cover their ears.
Justin's "posse" (and I only call them that because I'm fantasizing
about an old-west style lynching of the lot of them) consists of Brandon, the
fast-talking schemer, and Eddie, the requisite nerd who's trying to hook up
with a girl he met on the Internet. In one of the movie's most embarrassing
scenes (and there are many) Brandon RAPS to Eddie about women while Justin
plays beat box. Yes...Justin plays beat box. Kids, some advice: if you're
white, you should NEVER EVER rap unless you're named after a delicious
chocolate candy and insulting your own mother.
Apparently, the microsecond or so of khaki-on-khaki action has turned Justin
and Kelly into star-crossed lovers, just like Romeo and Juliet only -- sadly --
not dead. (Sorry, should I have given that a spoiler warning?) They look all
over the beach for each other, despite the fact that there are only about 50
people in the entire place and they're spending most of their time dancing
poorly. After wailing some of the worst songs written since Barry Manilow
picked up a pen, they keep missing each other until they finally encounter each
other in a ladies room. (Don't ask...PLEASE don't ask.) Justin promptly loses
her mobile number, and asks Alexa for it. But, Alexa, being the scheming bitch
of the piece, gives him her OWN number instead of Kelly's! Oh no...whatever
will happen? I mean, after a while, won't Justin wonder why Alexa is always
answering Kelly's mobile phone?
Of COURSE he won't! These are HIP, YOUNG kids! They don't talk on the phone!
They TEXT each other! Talking on the phone is sooooo 20th century! The poetry
of the Instant Message cannot be denied! Don't believe me? See for yourself:
OLD SCHOOL: But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It is my lady, O, it is my love!
O, that she knew she were!
NEW SCHOOL: I O U A BRGR U GAME? JSTN.
Don't you see? Can't you feel the longing? The yearning?
No, me neither. All I feel is nausea from the SHITTY WRITING that has no
business being in a movie! SOMEONE GOT PAID TO WRITE THIS!!!!
The whole damn movie is just this bad. And, as bad as the dialogue is, the
songs are just as bad, if not worse. Michael Bolton listens to the music in
this movie and vomits with disgust. It gets so that you can't tell which is
more abhorrent, like in one scene where Justin and Kelly are on a boat in the
ocean, singing their crappy American-Idolesque songs to each other. You start
thinking "Oh, God, PLEASE make them stop singing." And then they
do...for the following exchange:
KELLY: So, do you bring all of your girls out here?
JUSTIN: I usually come out here alone...to think.
KELLY: What are you thinking about?
JUSTIN: How happy I am that you gave me a second chance.
At THIS point, you start thinking "Oh, God, PLEASE make them stop talking
and start singing that shitty song again!!!"
Had enough yet? No? Well, try THIS on for size: Alexa (the scheming bitch)
calls Luke to drive from Texas, saying that Kelly is in trouble. (And, in a
way, she's right...Kelly IS in trouble...and it started the second she picked
up this script.) So it's Gomer to the rescue. He tries to pick a fight with
Justin and calls him "Sideshow Bob", which is an obvious reference to
the big-haired, Kelsey Grammer-voiced Simpsons character. It's a poor
comparison, though, because Grammer is far more smug and self-centred than even
Justin.
Whatever...they have to fight for Kelly's honour! Now THIS is getting good! So,
what's it gonna be?
Gunfight? No.
Knives? No.
Chains? No.
Drag race? No.
Hovercraft basketball? WE HAVE A WINNER!!!
Yup...Gomer and Chia-head square off with a game of hovercraft basketball in
order to win Kelly. It boggles the mind...it's like the screenwriter (the same
one who came up with the clever text-messages) watched the tractor-chicken
scene in "Footloose" and said "Hmmmm...that really sucks, but I
bet you I can write something even CRAPPIER!" I've seen more drama,
tension, and originality in episodes of "Saved By The Bell."
There are just so many bad things about this movie that to discuss them all
would take longer than it took to steamroll this pile of dung through
production and into theatres. I think I've made my point clear, but there's so
much more that's objectionable that it literally makes my head swim. There's
the wooden acting, the utter lack of screen presence or charm from anyone in
it, especially Guarini. There's choreography so bad, so HORRENDOUSLY bad, that
it makes you never want to dance again. I've seen better dancing from elderly
women in walkers during Line Dance night at my parent's retirement community.
Drunken amoebae doing the Time Warp have more rhythm than these people.
Oh, and good news to all you kids with eating disorders out there! Every girl
on the beach wears a bathing suit or bikini EXCEPT Kelly! You see, Kelly weighs
more than 96 pounds and could possibly be an ounce or two overweight, so the
obvious solution is to drape her in as much clothing as possible while on the
beach in the blazing sun. The Taliban let their women reveal more than Kelly
does. Except, of course, during her big "I'm going wild!" scene,
where you get to see about a millimetre of exposed belly.
All kidding aside, this really is an affront to young girls everywhere. One
would think that teen girls would be the target audience for this movie (well,
teen girls and my friend Darren). Why would you send messages like this to
them? Let your friends use you! Boys won't like you if you're fat! When your
pretty, popular best friend deceives you and stabs you in the back, make sure
you forgive her almost immediately!
Oh, did I give something away there? Good. I'll go one better...I'll tell you
about the final scene of the movie. Everybody winds up happy, and, for their
end-of-spring-break mega-blowout party, they all dance around poorly and sing,
"That's The Way (I Like It)" by KC and the Sunshine Band. This song
is, as you well know, one of the worst songs ever written. I guess they
couldn't get the rights to "Sugar Sugar" or "Kookie, Lend Me
Your Comb".
And, if you haven't managed to swallow that last bit of drain cleaner from
under the sink by now, the DVD has extras! There are two songs that were
mercifully cut, and two scenes, including an alternate ending that mocks gay
people. There's also a commentary by the stars, but if you sadists think I'm
watching this a third time to rate the commentary, you've got another thing
coming.
In case I haven't been clear, this movie has absolutely no business existing.
The sad thing is that it STILL isn't the worst movie I've seen all year. When I
can watch "From Justin To Kelly" and think to myself "Wow, that
was bad, but not as bad as 'Gigli'" then you know that Hollywood is
doomed.
But, on the plus side, I've still got the DVD, which means I've already got
Darren's Christmas present taken care of for this year.
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