From
Justin to Kelly (1/2
star)
review by Jon
Waterman
Kelly is a bartender in a small Texas town. Her life is the
same day in and day out: listening to boring country bands,
serving and singing to the same ten people, getting hit on
by the same guy that she’s not romantically interested
in. She needs a change. So, her friends convince her to take
some time off and head down to enjoy a good old fashioned college
spring break on the beach. Justin is not just your typical
college guy. He’s also one of the masterminds behind
the hottest, sexiest parties spring break has to offer. Girls
will do anything to get into one of his shindigs. What happens
when the shy, innocent, reserved Texas girl meets the King
of Spring? Perhaps, love?
Going in, you know this movie can’t possibly be good
in the conventional sense. It should go without saying to anyone
of this generation that this film is simply meant to capitalize
on the popularity and buzz surrounding the new show “American
Idol” and its winner and runner-up. What a horribly transparent
and potentially career devastating move for these two to be
involved in. But honestly it could have been, and should have
been, a lot worse.
I was expecting some of the worst cinema I could ever hope
to see, and early on it looked like I was going to get it.
The editors liked speeding up shots randomly to Benny Hill
speed while the lame credits played. And during the first song
and dance sequence, there’s a shot of these two rollerbladers
that they reverse in the middle of the flip. I wanted a lot
more stupid stuff like that, but the movie really didn’t
deliver for me. What I got instead wasn’t really good,
but it wasn’t nearly as hokey or laughable as I had originally
hoped. Rather, the film is extremely bland and lifeless, which
is bad without the potential for as much mockery.
About the funniest aspect of the picture is how they just
randomly break out into song and how everyone seems to know
the same dance. But that’s what happens in every musical.
The dancing is what you’d expect to see from a pop star
and his or her background crew. The songs are much worse than
anything you’d hear on the radio, because they are, and
I’m not sure how this is possible, more vapid than typical
boy band trite. Luckily none of them will be stuck in your
head, nor will you remember them thirty seconds after the movie’s
over.
I can see what they were trying to do here, but it just doesn’t
work. I haven’t yet seen any of the Frankie and Annette
movies, but I can only assume that they actually captured some
type of spirit of fun and youth and beaches and happiness and
rainbows and puppies and the like. I was definitely expecting
a lot worse from the director of “She’s All That,” Robert
Iscove and the writer of “Spice World” and wife
of “American Idol” producer Simon, Kim Fuller.
This is a different kind of disappointment. And the movie is
still bad.
respond to jon@filmbrats.com
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