I Know Who Killed Me

I Think I Know Who Might’ve Killed Me If I Hadn’t Been So Stoned is a movie about a serial killer and Lindsay Lohan. I'm going to make a bunch of funny Lindsay-Lohan-is-so-screwed-up jokes in this review. Those are hilarious. She’s a drug addict. Get it? LOL! Sometimes she shows off her vag in public. Ha Ha Ha, no panties. Did you hear that Lindsay is in rehab again? Ho Ho Haw Haw Har-de-Har. What a skank. She should be named Lindsay Ho-han. Giggle, giggle. Look…I don’t give a bastard’s beanbag about an actor’s personal life. I don’t. They get drunk, they say stupid shit, they fart in a club, they show a nipple, big deal. I don’t care that Tom Cruise believes in Scientology and I don’t care that Katherine Heigl is a Mormon. I watch movies because they are sometimes entertaining. The real-life personality problems of Hollywood stars don’t entertain me (unless a real-life Michelle Monaghan wants to come to my house and entertain me personally).

I Know Who Killed Me is Chris Siverston’s (The Lost) attempt at directing an entire film about the colors blue and red. That’s all you need to know about it. The symbolism of the colors. Their meaning. The psychology of pigmentation. This shit is getting deep, so put on your wading boots. We’re going to catch us some Redside Shiners and some Bluegills. Red is hot and sexy and pole-dances; blue is calm and cool and plays the piano. Red is trailer-trash; blue is affluent and cultured. Blue is first place; red is second. One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. Red Lindsay and Blue Lindsay and a killer with blue, nitrile gloves (he must be allergic to latex) and some blue roses and some red blood and some severed appendages. Fingers falling off. Have you figured out who killed her yet? Oh, I didn’t list the suspects: naïve boyfriend, sexy gardener, creepy piano teacher, concerned father, banal biology teacher. It doesn’t really matter. The whole point of the movie is trying to figure out how Lindsay can know who killed her if she’s already dead.

I kind of liked this movie. The acting is pretty crappy and the writing is mediocre but the direction is interesting and unique, at times. The plot twist is stupid and I didn’t care what happened to any of the characters. Yet, I was entertained. I laughed a lot. I like Lindsay Lohan’s freckles. This movie should have been released direct-to-video or direct-to-cable or as part of that After Dark Horrorfest thing. But I guess since Captivity got a theatrical release, this deserved one too. I’m looking forward to the DTV sequel starring Tara Reid and Edward Norton (who will be unfairly relegated to the DTV industry after Hulk 2 fails).

In conclusion, I’m bewildered by the trend of having actresses act as strippers in movies where they never actually strip (i.e. Jessica Alba in Sin City and Natalie Portman in Closer and Rose McGowan in Planet Terror). What does that say about our society? Do we live in a red and blue world with no shades of purple? Is it too much to ask for some basic honesty in storytelling?