A review in the New York Post of the thriller, "I Know Who Killed Me," declared the film dead on arrival. Describing the Lindsay Lohan vehicle, "sleazy, inept and worthless piece of torture porn into theaters yesterday without advance screenings for critics." Ouch. Now, that's got to hurt--possibly as much as getting your foot run over by a starlet gone wild. There's some kind of ridiculous-sounding plot device, which has a supposed secret twin sister involved, leading the reviewer, Lou Lumenick to state:
I would never think of giving away the ludicrous ending of "I Know Who Killed Me," even though it has plot holes you could drive an SUV through.But if you're imagining she's revisited the glories of "The Parent Trap" in an appalling slasher flick with double amputations, you might not be that far off the mark. "Twin Peaks" it ain't.
Uh oh. Might I have stumbled upon my next favorite bad movie? Only time and Netflix will tell. I'm betting that after typing that last sentence, my DVD of "Glitter" got jealous but for a moment--as well it should, since with two fake arms and a possibly fake twin, this thing is a bad Southern accent from being so damn bad, it's actually good.
Am says:
So who is she going to blame for killing her career? I can't wait for this to come on cable.
Zekers says:
...maybe she'll blame the 'real owner' of those jeans she borrowed with the coke in the pocket.