Worst Movies of 2007 Face/Off! (Results)

If you’re wondering why the slight delay in this, it’s not that I’m really crappy with numbers, but that I’ve spent the past two days playing Guitar Hero III (until I got as far as Cherub Rock on Hard and gave up, weeping), Super Mario Galaxy (a masterpiece), and John Woo’s Stranglehold, which is not the best game ever made, but is the best gaming sequel to a legendary action movie masterpiece featuring Chow Yun Fat and cameo appearances by John Woo ever made, and as such is fully deserving of my time. As for the two movies, the scoring is as arbitrary as before, but with them I hope to give a sense of what watching both movies was like. Both movies are glossy and dumb, but only one will end up in my collection of bad movies.

I Know Who Killed Me

Cast: Lindsay Lohan: -7
Neal McDonough: -2
Julia Ormond: 1
Brian Geraghty: -4
Donovan Scott: -9
Paula Marshall: 4
Total: -17

A justifiably crappy score, with the professionals doing their best to keep things afloat while the director fiddles, and the amateurs running around putting even bigger holes in the boat. The filmboat. ::sigh:: Darn metaphors! All that said, bonus points for casting the likeable Paula Marshall in a smaller role. She’s been notoriously bad at getting a job on shows that don’t get cancelled mid-season or earlier, and I’m hoping that turning up in crud like this is the bottom of a curve and now her prospects will improve. Donovan Scott plays the sheriff of Bluetown, and though he’s only in a couple of scenes, he’s appalling, like a benevolent, Santa-like version of the sheriff in The Blair Witch Project 2: Post-Modernism Go Boom. Thank Crom Sivertson and Hammond had no idea what to do with the police, otherwise he would have been in it more.

Plot elements specific to these films:
Unintentional humour unsullied by nasty taste from subject matter: -4
Coherence: -1
Economical use of flashbacks: -1
Delivery of big audience-baiting moments: -6
Subtle use of motifs: -8
Avoidance of deus ex machina: 4

Total: -16

If you see this film, or have seen this film, then you know that that -8 for motifs is more than justified. There’s no need to go on about the colour scheme any more, or the fact that I found it hard to laugh at due to the sleaziness (though the robot bits of Lohan certainly kept us entertained, but I will add that for all the incompetence on show, at least the film had an interesting internal logic (when it eschewed the nonsensical flashbacks). It was a definitely interesting idea, and had been worked out fairly well, at least at the script stage. Can you tell I’m trying to find something good to say about it? Erm, the strip club seemed like it was run fairly efficiently?

Miscellaneous:
Originality: 2
Liveliness: -3
Enthusiasm for project: 5
Avoidance of cliche: -7
Unique Selling Points: 3
Production values: 3
Total: 3

Finally, some positive numbers! A particularly good one for enthusiasm, because I believe Sivertson thought this was the big ticket, the stepping stone into the big time, and tried very hard to make an impression, throwing in semi-nudity and torture and colour and sex and look at me look at me I’m making a big movie bigger than anything Lucky McKee ever did! Unfortunately, it’s crap. Still, again I have to take my hat off for the surprising payoff to the mystery.

I Know Who Killed Me overall total = -30

While Sivertson has managed to create a slasher thriller that has some kind of ambition, the sheer cynicism of it wrecks the project entirely. Who knows if Hammond’s script could have been salvaged if given to someone who knows how to hold back on the symbolism, not to mention thinking twice about casting someone whose real life does not bear up well to comparisons with the main character’s life. I just couldn’t get past the sleaziness of the project; casting Lohan might have seemed like a great idea at the time, but in retrospect it’s as if Sivertson and his cohorts were picking the last bits of dignity from the corpse of Lohan’s career. As I said before, I really do hope this is not the case, and she can make a comeback. And not wear blue. With her pale skin, it really isn’t her colour.

D-War

Cast: Jason Behr: -7
Amanda Brooks: -8
Robert Forster: 2
Chris Mulkey: -4
Craig Robinson: 1
Michael Shamus Wiles: -5
Total: -21

Dear God, where to begin? Only Craig Robinson and Robert Forster stand out at all here, and even then it’s a close call. Forster in particular is asked to do some pretty silly things (meditating in mid-air, comedically faking a heart attack, pretending to be a martial-arts wizard), and phones it in pretty badly. Behr and Brooks, however, don’t even manage that. Behr has zero charisma, and Brooks looks somnabulent, angry, frustrated, and disgusted with herself for getting the part. It’s a monumentally feeble performance. I guess she has very little to work with, and might have been directed to act like someone who had just woken up whenever Shim said action, but I don’t see why. As for Michael Shamus Wiles as Evil General, he was passably evil, in a pantomimey way. He was also okay at pretending to be in charge of a bunch of people. However, if the antagonist of your film is a big serpent, you really need to have a interesting human character to boo and hiss at, but he had no chemistry. You know, this film is so false and so empty it seems weird to judge it in this way. Did the actors hit their marks? I guess so. Did they fluff their lines? Not on the takes they used. That’s as much as you could hope for.

Plot elements specific to these films:
Unintentional humour unsullied by nasty taste from subject matter: 8
Coherence: -7
Economical use of flashbacks: -5
Delivery of big audience-baiting moments: 6
Subtle use of motifs: 0
Avoidance of deus ex machina: -9

Total = -7

I think it was fairly obvious from the fact that I wrote twice as much about this film that I enjoyed it much more than I Know Who Killed Me. I laughed from beginning to end, mostly because I couldn’t believe how inept it was. In a normal studio situation surely someone would have realised that the script was unusable, and have other writers come in. Here Shim was fully in charge with no oversight, and the result has to be seen to be believed. Robert McKee’s theories of storytelling annoy as many people as they delight, but this is proof that he’s onto something. Shim breaks almost all of McKee’s rules, not because he has mastered them, but because he has no idea what they are, and has merely cobbled together bits from other films and stuck them together in some kind of order that resembles the movies he’s stolen them from. As much as any writer should watch Chinatown or Casablanca (and my personal choice, Midnight Run), they should also see something like this, because it’s a total failure, primarily because of the non-plot. Still, the big action scenes, the wow moments he built everything around, are wonderful. I may have hated most of the plotting and acting, but when a pilot pulled out a gun and started shooting at the dragon hanging off the side of his helicopter, I went a little crazy with excitement. Only some poor effects and filming ruin it, but still, for a dragon fan, it’s the nuts.

Miscellaneous:
Originality: 0
Liveliness: 3
Enthusiasm for project: 5
Avoidance of cliche: -6
Unique Selling Points: 4
Production values: 6
Total = 12

For all of his ineptitude, Shim (seen here impersonating Ricky Gervais) knows how to cover his back with some actual talent. He hired Bruckheimer/Bay regular Steve Jablonsky to handle the soundtrack, and Mark Mangini to work on sound design (he did some great work on The Mist this year, in a monster movie two-fer). They do good work here, and it definitely helps Shim create the illusion that he knows what he’s doing, but even a little attention to what’s going on shows him up as a chancer. His previous movie, Yonggary, was such a catastrophic flop and disaster (after he promised to turn the Korean film industry into a powerhouse to rival Hollywood) that he had to get it right this time. Seems he figured he could do that by filming in L.A. with an American crew, which is a hell of a screw-you to Korean filmmakers. Anyone who has seen recent Korean movies knows there are some incredibly talented people there, and Shim should have been alerted to the fact that even when you take a holiday, you can’t take a holiday from yourself. Or something. What I’m trying to say is, Hyung-Rae Shim, your movies are always going to be shit until you fire yourself. Don’t blame the caterers. We can tell who messed up.

D-War overall total = -16

So there you go. I Know Who Killed Me gets the lowest score, so can be safely filed in the Awful Bad Movie file. It’s silly, it’s pretentious, it’s dreary, and it features some horrible performances from people who have a horrible aura of desperation around them that would sour you on the movie even if it wasn’t so nasty. D-War, on the other hand, is a big silly disaster, with film-student errors, egregious plotholes, Saturday-morning-serial acting, and a huge FX blowout featuring monsters fighting the military. If you watch it in the wrong frame of mind you might think I’m mad for recommending it, but watch it with a bunch of friends knowing full well you’re going to be watching a big turd of a movie, and it’s up there with Dreamcatcher and Albert Pyun’s Ticker. I hated it so much I loved it. And now, I’m going to see if I can find an Evil General action figure online. Wish me luck!

Worst Movies of 2007 Face/Off! (D-War)

It’s been a good year for dragon-lovers. Naomi Novik published the fourth book in the Temeraire series (I’ve yet to read it, but Canyon seemed to like it a lot), Beowulf ended with a superb fight between the Cockney/Geat warrior and an awesome firebreathing beast, and Enchanted featured an endearingly camp purple dragon voiced by Susan Sarandon and designed by genius monster-mind Crash McCreery.

Oddly, though, the big draw for us was a big-budget Korean fantasy-action flick starring a guy off Roswell, Robert “Alligator” Forster, and Daryl from The Office. It promised huge battle scenes, a plethora of dragons, and city-wide destruction on a similar scale to Transformers. Though early word was horribly negative, I was still intrigued and psyched. Come on! Wicked awesome dragons, powered by Korean ingenuity and let loose on LA! That sounded like a perfect movie, but that’s assuming that film is made by someone who understands how to write a coherent screenplay, or how to block actors, or how to direct them, or how to pace a movie, or…


Basically, I’m saying dragon mayhem only works when you’ve got someone behind the camera who knows more about directing than that the words “action” and “cut” make the actors start and stop reciting heavy-handed, overly-complicated and incomprehensible exposition. Hyung-Rae Shim is most definitely not that man.

We should have taken as a warning the tagline on the poster above and on the D-War homepage: “Since THE DAWN of LEGEND, Absolutely UNIMAGINABLE affair OCCURS on THE HUMAN RACE. They are LOOKING for SOMEONE. SOMEONE WHO has been CHOSEN by HEAVEN…” If they’re not bothering to translate something properly, we’re in for a pretty haphazardly made film. That’s not to say Shim doesn’t have some faith in his own ability. According to this SciFi Japan review, when bragging about the scale and ambition of D-War, Shim said, “LORD OF THE RINGS was made in a field, but we’ve shot in the heart of LA.” Somewhere in New Zealand, Peter Jackson is humbled.

As if possessed by the Satanic ghost of Dr. Uwe Boll, director of the maddeningly complex Alone In The Dark, D-War opens with an animated crawl explaining the story of a race of serpent things, and the birth of a magical woman every 500 years who contains a spirit power sent from heaven that will transform creatures called Imugis into Celestial Dragons. If a good Imugi gets hold of this power, then everything is fine, but if an evil Imugi wins out, we’re screwed. This is apparently taken from Korean myth, though from the complexity of it, and the fact that it so often contradicts itself, it seems to be taken from all of Korean myth at the same time. I spent a long time trying to make out what the hell was being conveyed to me, and it was time wasted. I don’t think Shim understands what it means either.

We then cut to modern day L.A., to find an enormous gouge in the landscape. Just to confuse matters more, a Native American is shouting about how we have awakened “them”. Hey, Native American dude, stop claiming incomprehensible Korean myths as your own! Chris Mulkey and a fellow FBI flunky are investigating this disaster, at which point our journalist hero Ethan, played by blank slate Jason Behr, and his cameraman Bruce (a much livelier Craig Robinson), appear and harangue the Feds. After Mulkey and the Mulkey-Flunky rudely tell Ethan to get lost he sees a weird object being unearthed which later turns out to be a dragon scale.


After returning to his office, where he seems to be under the impression it’s a Bad Taste Fashion day for charity, Behr mulls over the events of the morning (in echoey voiceover), and suddenly remembers a visit to an antiques store he made as a kid, where he is blasted with magical energy by a similar dragon scale and then treated to a long expositional lecture from Robert Forster. Then he remembers being given a large magical amulet, even though he’s actually wearing it at the time. Is he Guy Pearce in Memento? Who forgets these kinds of things? I mean, it’s twice as big as an iPod and has pointy bits on it.


The flashback to his childhood contains even more exposition than the opening crawl, with Forster going into immensely confusing detail about the Imugi and the spirit power called the Yu I Joo, which is a gift from heaven for good Imugi, but there is a bad Imuji called Buraki who wants the Yu I Joo. Heaven sends down two guys, a warrior (called Haram) and a magician, to save the day. That’s all? Forster makes it sound like it would be a bad thing if Baraki gets the Yu I Joo, but Heaven only sends two guys, one of whom (the warrior) is next to useless? What’s worse, the Yu I Joo manifests within a woman (Narin) on her twentieth birthday, and then she has to find a good Imugi before a bad Imugi gets her. Even Royal Mail has a more reliable system that that.

Just to make things more complicated, the flashback flashes back again, to ancient Korea, where a village is destroyed by evil forces looking for Narin, the possessor of the Yu I Joo. It’s very dramatic, very silly, and very badly filmed, except for the bravura effects moments. In that respect it reminds me of Return of the Jedi. During non-effects sequences, Richard Marquand seems unable to inject any life or pace into the movie, but as soon as ILM take over, the film turns into a rollercoaster. Same here. When Shim’s effects team are responsible for what’s onscreen, the film is enormous fun for all the right reasons. When Shim is behind the camera directing actors, it all goes horribly, hilariously wrong.


Also, it’s a pointless scene. The village might be much larger than I would expect a village to be, but it’s surrounded by a flimsy wall and has a couple of cannons to protect the inhabitants. Buraki sends his evil general (who according to the press notes, goes by the name of Evil General) to retrieve the Yu I Joo, and his army comprises about 50000 soldiers and monsters who raze the village to the ground with ease. There’s some memorable carnage, but what made me laugh most was that in the middle of the explosions and villager-crushings and infantry stampedes, there’s a dramatic shot of one of the large creatures (called a Dawdler) knocking over a two foot high wall that serves no purpose, except perhaps to keep a couple of chickens from running off. It gets the same treatment as the genocide. Perhaps they’re the monarchs of the chicken kingdom.


Sadly, while that scene is very big and silly and satisfying, for the first two thirds of the movie we have to contend with numerous stilted dialogue scenes, repetitive deus ex machinas, poorly staged fight scenes and, I’m not kidding, yet more exposition. My God, at times it feels like we’re watching The Silmarillion as filmed by a teenager obsessed with Rampage and Age of Empire.

What’s worse is that the in-world rules make no sense. Why has Heaven come up with this incredibly complicated Yu I Joo delivery system? Put it in a hott girl, bake for twenty years, and then watch as the bad “guy” swoops in and eats her? What’s worse is they don’t take into account the inevitable love affair between Haram and Narin, which makes Narin not want to serve up the Yu I Joo to the good Imugi, choosing instead to kill herself (and Haram) before either Buraki or the good Imugi can get to her, meaning the whole ridiculous ordeal gets repeated 500 years later, with a girl called Sarah becoming the new holder of the Yu I Joo, and Ethan becoming the new protector thanks to some handy reincarnation, though he doesn’t inherit any combat skills or dress sense.


Basically, what Shim must have written down when he started this project is, “Find reason for big monsters to chase young couple around city so I can destroy it.” Unfortunately, he went crazy trying to make it seem like there was more plot there, and a lot of time is spent while he adds layer upon layer of exposition on the core. Seriously, if Forster had just said, “Heaven made this hott chick all powerful so she could promote a monster but another monster wants the job more so you’ve got to get her out of here otherwise we’re screwed now go and run around and get into lots of destructive scrapes!” I would have respected it a lot more.

If you think I’ve spent too long talking about a flashback scene, please bear in mind that this scene is fifteen minutes long. I’m not exaggerating; I just timed it. The only other movie I’ve seen do that is Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and this movie is not Crouching Tiger (though the dragons do miraculously remain hidden for the majority of the movie, and in the middle of L.A., no less).


For all the time spent explaining the identity of main characters (for instance, Forster turns out to be the wizard, who has been hanging around for 500 years waiting for Behr to appear, which is a massively depressing prospect), and the backstory of the dragons, none is spent explaining why the Feds hate Behr on sight, or what the gouge is (the viewer can figure it’s Buraki’s work, but you’d have to take a leap of logic to figure it), and what effect it has had on the populace. Also, as in I Know Who Killed Me, for the majority of the movie the police characters appear to have been included only because Shim thinks they have to be included, though he doesn’t know what to do with them other than have them say, “You mean it’s organic?” or “We have to find this girl!” They do nothing to further the plot and remain clueless throughout. At least, that’s what happens for the majority of the movie (see below).


When the flashback finally ends and Ethan begins to act on his memories (i.e. he tells Bruce to use his amazing Google skills to search for all of the Sarahs in LA), we’re introduced to the correct Sarah, played by Amanda Brooks. She is the reincarnation of Narin, though has also seemingly forgotten her heritage until this moment. Or perhaps she knows all about it, which is equally odd. If I knew I was the container into which Heaven has poured a mighty mystical force that must be used to give an enormous ancient serpent an upgrade, I’d probably base my whole life around it and probably try to make some money off it. Instead she just appears to be a moody valley girl who hangs out at the gym.

Maybe her relentlessly dour expression is her way of dealing with her responsibility. She doesn’t smile once during the movie, and barely registers any effort in the role. Maybe that was a direction from Shim, but how unappealing does this make her? Inexplicably she has a friend who tries to cheer her up, but all she does in return is whine about wanting to stay at home and sulk. What with Behr’s blandness and her misery, the only reason they could ever find each other attractive is by being the reincarnated spirits of two doomed losers from 16th Century Korea.

Not long after being introduced and realising she is in great danger from attack by Buraki’s forces, Sarah does the safest thing possible; going drinking with her friend to drown her seemingly epic sorrows. After leaving early with an attack of the Whiny Dullness, she’s assaulted by some random fratty muggers, and is in serious trouble until out of the blue Robert Forster appears and rescues her with some effortless (i.e. lazily filmed) martial arts moments. After saving her ass, he slopes off into the night, probably so he can listen to The Delfonics in his car.


She ends up reporting the event to the police, and while she does it a random photographer walks through the station, takes a photo of her, and is chased off. Peculiar, I thought, but then a couple of scenes later, while Ethan is moaning to Bruce that he’s a jerk for not being able to find the right Sarah out of several thousand with only the description of a Yu I Joo-brand birthmark to go on, the photographer (who works there, of course), walks past them and mentions that he just met a Sarah who got into a fight and hey, here’s a photo of her! Was the photographer called Mr. P. Lotdevice?

For various reasons too illogical to try to parse here, Sarah gets committed to a hospital (for having bad dreams about Evil General, it seems), and goes berserk with a plastic knife. Or as berserk as someone who is unable to act can get. Before she can hurt anyone Ethan arrives, but his path is blocked by an officious nurse. Fortunately a kindly doctor sneaks him into the room, meaning he and Sarah finally meet again after 500 years (romance!), just as Buraki attacks the hospital. They flee, again with the help of the kindly doctor, who waits until they’ve gone and morphs into Robert Forster! I have no idea why he hides his identity from them in this way. Maybe 500 years of waiting around has made him playful. Or shy. There follows another funky effects sequence, with Buraki chasing Sarah, Ethan, and Bruce through an underground car park, though they manage to outrun it. This happens several times; a small car outruns a 300 foot long snake. There’s asking the audience to suspend disbelief, and then there’s not giving a damn what the audience thinks.


Upon eluding Buraki, Bruce’s car slams into Evil General, who looks like he’s going for a stroll down the centre of the road. Cloaked in magical armour, he knocks Bruce around for a bit and then electrocutes him (Craig Robinson’s high-pitched yelp of pain is the only moment of actual comedy in the entire film). Ethan ineffectually stands around, allowing Evil General to almost grab Sarah and do terribly obscure magical things to her when, hilariously, another car comes out of nowhere and runs him over again.


At first I thought that this scene would go on for a few hours, with a succession of cars taking turns knocking the guy over, but no, Ethan and Sarah just get into it (leaving the electrified Bruce behind), and drive off. A bit later they are randomly dropped off near a beach (because lovers like to walk along beaches, right?), and as they walk away, the woman driving the car turns into… Robert Forster! Every movie should have Robert Forster materialise whenever they can’t think of a way to resolve a situation.

While the romantic leads sleepwalk through their lines, on the other side of town a bunch of FBI dudes sleepwalk through their own lines, and agree that Buraki is following Sarah, and is located in a cave nearby. They seem to arrive at this conclusion through divine intervention, because even though they act like there’s proof it’s following her and momentarily hiding in a cave, they don’t show it. They do have one elusive thing they can be proud of finding; a picture of Sarah smiling! It’s an endearingly goofy picture.


Thanks to this snake-finding breakthrough, a bunch of tooled up guys with guns go to the cave, though I wonder if anyone told them they would be going up against an enormous evil snake, as their reaction to Buraki’s dramatic appearance is to freak out, fire aimlessly into the air, and then get killed. Actually, I’m not sure if I remember Buraki killing any of them. Instead they get blown up by Evil General, who seems to thrive in non-road environments.

Sarah and Ethan go visit a hypnotist neuroscientist or something (played by Holmes Osborne, completing a 2007 bad movie two-fer with Southland Tales). In an echo of John Boorman’s catastrophic Exorcist II he sticks electrodes on Sarah and triggers a flashback (thankfully a short one) for no apparent reason, and Buraki finds them, for no apparent reason, before chasing them. Leaving behind Holmes Osbourne, they get away. For no apparent reason. If the overused motif of I Know Who Killed Me is making everything blue, the overused motif here is events happening because Shim has decided they have to. It’s a perfect example of inept plotting, and should be shown in film schools as a warning. I Know Who Killed Me has some clumsy plotting and dimwitted flashbacks that fill up time, but nothing on this scale.

After escaping Buraki Sarah and Ethan meet up with Bruce (who isn’t dead even though they left him behind with Evil General), and then go for a coffee to chat about their day. The scene ends with, yes, Buraki appearing out of nowhere. He/It crashes through some walls, stops them getting away by throwing a car at them, and then waits around instead of attacking them, giving a bunch of cops time to shoot at him (and no they don’t transform into a mini-army of Robert Forster, which is a shame). Their gunfire stops Buraki in his tracks, giving Ethan and Sarah time to escape. Bruce, on the other hand, gets left behind.


Luckily this confrontation triggers the best scene in the movie, an effects tour-de-force with Bulcos, Dawdlers, Shaconnes and Atrox (Atroxes? Atroxi? Erm…) attacking L.A. en masse. It means nothing, and is only there to get the punters in, but it’s great anyway.


It’s on a smaller scale than the similar scenes at the end of Transformers, and doesn’t work narratively (more as a sequence of cool shots), but it’s still worth watching the movie just for these scenes. As before, the FX shots are much more vibrant and imaginative than the rest of the movie. I would say it’s down to some second unit director’s superior understanding of filmmaking, but from that SciFi Japan feature, Shim was indeed on set in LA, firing his ADs for worrying about tanks ruining the roads. Unless he was joking. The only things that let the scene down are a couple of less than perfect effect shots, and a bad bit of editing that leaves a bunch of tanks and machine-gunners firing at an empty street.


While chaos reigns, Ethan and Sarah climb to the top of a skyscraper so they can catch a helicopter out of there, only to find that snakes can climb things, a point proved by the appearance of Buraki up in their respective grills. Stupidly they hop onto the helicopter, which is promptly grabbed by Buraki. With no hesitation, Ethan and Sarah leap out, leaving the pilot behind. He dies moments later.


While Buraki is peppered with minigun shells, our undynamic heroes get back to street level and are found by Chris Mulkey and the Mulkey-Flunky, who whisk them away to a basement somewhere. Good idea, I thought, until Mulkey pulls a gun on Sarah and threatens to kill her, stating that the only way to stop Buraki is to destroy the Yu I Joo. It’s an amazing moment. He knows about this shit? How? He’s not mentioned any of it for the entire rest of the film, but now he knows all about it? It’s… I just… Oh, what’s the use. Thankfully the Mulkey-Flunky knocks him out, or shoots him, or something. I can’t remember the details as I had my head in my hands for a few minutes. They get away, though. And leave the flunky behind.

So they escape! For two minutes, and then a bunch of Bulcos blow their car up, enabling them to capture our heroes. I have no idea how long they are meant to be unconscious, but when Ethan wakes up, he’s on the steps of an enormous structure that looks way too much like Barad-Dur. I’ve never been to LA, but I think I’d know if an enormous evil-looking obsidian castle was built nearby. Still, suck on that, Jackson. He’s filming in LA, not a field! Loser.


Buraki, Evil General, and thousands of Atroxesixi are in attendance, waiting for Sarah to cough up the Yu I Joo, but Ethan’s having none of it. Using some wondrously inept fight moves he battles Evil General, getting thrown around like the bundle of second-hand clothes he looks like, and is about to be killed when Evil General’s sword touches the amulet which had been forgotten about by everyone, and it activates, killing all of the Atroxiites and Evil General in a burst of mystical CGI whooshiness. Hooray! This seemingly summons the fashionably late good Imugi, and a battle ensues between him/her and Buraki. Taking a cue from Ethan, it is crap at fighting, and it looks bad until Sarah decides, “Fuck this, I’m bored,” and burps up the Yu I Joo.


Just as Buraki is about to grab it, she moves it with magical powers so that the good Imugi can get it, in the biggest and most dramatic “psyche!” moment in film history. With that the good Imugi becomes a Celestial Dragon, complete with funky chinese-dragon-whiskers, and the battle is won easily. It’s another terrific FX sequence. However, don’t get thinking it’s going to end well. Sarah dies in Ethan’s arms, and then appears before him as, I shit you not, a glowing fairy, promising to love him forever in Heaven. At this point, Canyon and I were torn between laughing our asses off and shouting swearwords at the screen.


The best part of that is that both the good Imugi and Sarah the Dragon Fairy both float off to Heaven, leaving Ethan behind. Yeah, how does that feel, you inconsiderate asshole? If only Bruce could feel the schadenfreude.

Worst Movies of 2007 Face/Off! (I Know Who Killed Me)

I’ll go out on a limb; like all film-goers, as much as we want to see classics, masterpieces, and works of genius as often as possible, they mean nothing without something to compare them to: the cinematic effluent of recent times. Our movie collection may be made up of a lot of awesome stuff, but it also contains The Punisher, The Wicker Man (Labute’s version, of course), Friedkin’s vile but hilarious Rules of Engagement, and Lawrence Kasdan’s defecation-epic Dreamcatcher. Sometimes I wonder if we’re actually more fond of a piece of crap like Glitter than we are of the good stuff. If The Godfather comes on Sky Movies we might not bother to rewatch it. If Honey turns up, it stays on. What’s that about?


We actively seek out the truly abysmal, but this year we seemed to miss out on the real dreck. Georgia Rule didn’t get a release over here, Bratz: The Movie has yet to appear on Sky Movies on endless repeat, and nothing is going to make me watch Daddy Day Camp. We did see Ghost Rider (a favourite of Canyon’s; she loves that movie), Next (more boring than actually entertainingly bad), and The Reaping (much the same), but it wasn’t until the end of the year that we saw our actual contenders for worst movie of the year: Chris Sivertson’s I Know Who Killed Me, and, sadly for us as big dragon fans, Hyung-Rae Shim’s D-War. Both movies are senses-picklingly dreadful, but which one will win Best Worst Movie of the Year, and which will be deemed Actual Worst Movie of the Year?


Lindsay Lohan’s attempt at earning some serious critical reappraisal, I Know Who Killed Me, was released to almost total popular apathy but significant critical drubbings. I remember Ashton Kutcher getting similarly bad notices for The Butterfly Effect, and though the performances (by him and Amy Smart) were memorably bad, and the direction went too far over the top at times, I still have some residual fondness for it. The ending might be very similar to the outcome of Richard Kelly’s Donnie Darko, but I’ve sat through Butterfly twice, and cannot rewatch Darko as it annoys me too much. So kudos to Butterfly Effect for that.

Lohan’s effort, on the other hand, is an unmitigated disaster. Directed by jack-of-all-trades Chris Sivertson (a one-time collaborator with horror director Lucky McKee), and written by first-timer Jeff Hammond, the movie is sleazy, pretentious, voyeuristic, grisly, dumb, and yet features a genuinely unusual twist; it reminded me of Saw in that respect. Lohan ineptly plays a precocious student, Aubrey Fleming, whose hobbies include writing bad fiction, giving up piano lessons (something that never gets mentioned again. Could it be significant somehow????), and generally being a goodie-two-shoes. She also appears to be suffering from a high-functioning version of narcolepsy. She walks and talks, but seems curiously apart from everything around her. For the first 20 minutes or so I thought it was a plot point, before realising she was just not bothering to emote like a normal actor. My memory of her performance in Mean Girls is murky, but I know she was a lot more engaging than this. Romero zombies are more lively.


So anyway, she’s a good girl with a happy home life, loving parents (played by Julia Ormond and Neal McDonough, seen above in a later scene), not to mention an inexplicable fixation with the colour blue. So why do we keep seeing footage of Lohan pole-dancing in a red-lit stripper bar? If your answer is, “Because punters want to see Lohan in her smalls rolling around in a sleazy fugue state”, the dreadful box office will prove you wrong. Are we seeing her as a character in one of GoodLohan’s stories? I certainly thought so.

I also thought, “Please stop.” She’s the least committed and most indifferent stripper in movie history, her routine basically comprising some bending over backwards and lots of slow walking around the pole. At one point she crouches as if having a poo. I bet that’s erotic to a minority of people; perhaps they were the ones who saw this at the cinema. Bear in mind, this was the unique selling point of the film: Lohan grinding on a pole with all the enthusiasm of a semi-conscious call-centre operative. If I’d paid to see this for that reason, I would have felt cheated.

So far so dreary, but then GoodLohan gets abducted and subjected to lots of really nasty dismemberment (losing a finger, then a hand, and then a leg). It’s graphic, it’s leering, it’s deeply unpleasant. When I was a kid I hated hearing oldsters bitch and moan about horror movies and how they pervert the minds of the kids. I watched Carrie and The Thing and the Elm Street series with no ill effects, so it was obviously horseshit. Now, though, I’m compelled to join in the chorus of angst about the horror sub-genre of torture porn. I’ve heard some critics (that I respect) say that Eli Roth’s Hostel films have some metaphorical depth, but I’ve not seen them and of his work have only enjoyed seeing him get shot mid-crap in Southland Tales. I also liked the first two Saw movies, but only as joke-fodder, as they are hysterically awful. Other than that, I’ve not felt the urge to watch any, other than Wolf Creek, which was nasty and sickening enough to make me hate humanity. Imagine my unhappiness as I realised this movie was heading down that route. So now Sivertson and Hammond are using a non-sexy stripping Lohan and torture porn! I was astonished at how opportunistic it had become, and this was about 25 minutes in.


Imagine my relief when, through an obscurely edited series of events, Lohan is found, bleeding and dismembered, at the side of a road. Yay no more onscreen torture! She’s taken to a very blue hospital and is fixed up, but upon waking up, she maintains she is actually Dakota Moss, the stripper from GoodLohan’s stories! This comes as a shock to everyone, as does NaughtyLohan’s laboured profanity and suddenly rampant libido. The police (represented by a sheriff whose eye-rolling performance is one of the worst of the year) and the FBI (a trio of serious-looking individuals who are only in the film because otherwise the viewer would be thinking, why aren’t the FBI involved?) attempt to get to the bottom of things, but they just appear at random intervals to deliver exposition and interrogate NaughtyLohan, who treats them like imbeciles. It’s like watching a slightly grown-up Curly Sue say “Fuckbums!” at an assortment of Keystone Kops.

Now, I think I’m pretty good at spotting twists, so I was obnoxiously cocky at this point. As far as I could tell, NaughtyLohan was obviously meant to be GoodLohan after suffering immense trauma, and the twist would be that throughout the movie GoodLohan is still getting tortured, and imagining her new life as NaughtyLohan in an attempt to distance herself from the horror being perpetrated by the killer who couldn’t possibly be a piano teacher. It seemed pretty obvious that that was the direction it was going in, with the garishly hyper-coloured style that made it all seem like a dream sequence instead of reality. NaughtyLohan dresses in red and everything around her in GoodLohan’s world is vibrantly blue, and that’s before we get to the sex scene between NaughtyLohan and GoodLohan’s boyfriend, someone she sort of wanted to get with earlier in the film but wouldn’t due to her goodie-two-shoeiness, seen here giving GoodLohan (in blue clothes, you’ll notice) a blue flower. It made perfect sense.


Which is why the rest of the movie baffled me so much. Though I thought her dismemberment would mean no more stripping moments, Sivertson gets around that by having several flashbacks that show NaughtyLohan’s inept stripper past, and the bizarre falling apart of her body. Mid-slow-affectless-pole-twirl, her hand begins to bleed, and when back in her dressing room (suddenly emptied of all of the garish, fish-eye-lensed freaks who have populated it to this point), her finger falls off.

So, GoodLohan is re-remembering her past to account for her dismemberment? But surely she should be thinking happy thoughts instead of, “Gee, I was having so much fun listlessly rotating around a pole in the reddest and sleaziest strip joint in America, and now bits of me are falling off!” Even worse, she then tries to sew it back on. All it takes is a bit of sewing and lip-biting, and then putting on a glove, after which she seems to be doing much better. Screw you, Rambo! Cauterising a wound with gunpowder is so over. Now we re-attach limbs with thread. It’s the future, granddad.


By this point I had less of a clue about what was going on than the police, but that’s because I was holding onto my erroneous belief that it was all a fever dream punctuated by useless flashbacks showing NaughtyLohan getting stalked (which has nothing to do with the rest of the movie). If only I’d dropped that earlier I would naturally have realised that not only was GoodLohan indeed still in the clutches of the evil dismembering serial killer who couldn’t possibly be a psychotic piano teacher with abandonment issues, but also NaughtyLohan was in fact a real person who just happened to be GoodLohan’s identical twin! Neal McDonough, who had seemingly been avoiding NaughtyLohan for most of the movie, shows up to reveal that through some contrivance, both Lohans were separated at birth, and they, the good family living on the blue side of town, were lucky enough to adopt GoodLohan, while NaughtyLohan ended up on the red side of town. The side with the stripclubs and whatnot.

Even more insane, NaughtyLohan’s wounds are caused by twin stigmata. As GoodLohan is cut apart, NaughtyLohan suffers the same wounds, which is why she spends the last thirty minutes of the movie with a cyborg hand covered in a baggy rubber glove (thus saving on CGI) and walking around on a robotic leg which, for some inexplicable reason, becomes dead weight when the batteries run out. Hold on, it attaches below the knee, which means the joint isn’t powering down, so what’s the point of powering it up in the first place? What is the motorised part of it? The ankle? So the foot’s dead-weight? Does it become weightless when the power is on? Does it have gyroscopes or something in it? Or is it perhaps a contrived way to create some artificial suspence at the end when she tried to elude her possibly-piano-playing nemesis with a powered-down leg? I’ll leave that open for now. Here is a close-up of the extra-thick flesh covered Marigold washing-up glove she sports for the finale. Note that NaughtyLohan is wearing red. Not blue, but red.


In the final few minutes of the film, GoodLohan is buried alive which means NaughtyLohan starts to suffocate, just as she figures out where who her killer is (and yes, she does indeed declare, “I know who killed me!” like someone from a William Castle movie). Ormond stays out of this part, and it’s up to heroic Neal McDonough to save the day. NaughtyLohan and McDonough drive to the evil piano teacher’s house (whoops, spoiler!), and in a feeble cat and mouse scene in a badly-lit room that has lots of prosthetic limbs hanging from the ceiling like so many Christmas ornaments, McDonough gets iced. Bummer. NaughtyLohan gets into various dead ends, though by now she’s breathing a lot better for some reason (I reckon that reason is that old favourite, contrivance), before killing her “killer” with one of his deadly instruments, all of which are made from blue glass. Blue, you’ll note, not red. I really hope you’re following this colour coding system. It’s rather sophisticated.


After that she hunts down her twin, unburies her, and they live happily ever after. Until GoodLohan finds out NaughtyLohan shtupped her boyfriend, I guess. I will say this, I really didn’t see that twin thing coming at all. As wretched as the movie is (and believe me, it truly is wretched), it caught me out, big-time. Okay, so it had to be bat-shit insane to do it, but still, thumbs up for that. However, there is nothing else going for the movie. If there is any merit in the honestly surprising twist or the half-hearted nature/nurture theme, they’re swamped by the lurid, exploitative stripper/torture scenes earlier on. Though the violence is thankfully short-lived, the stripping scenes honestly seemed to go on forever. At one point I turned to Canyon to make some witty remark about Neal McDonough’s mutant Bob Hope face, and she was fast asleep. By the time Lohan is fighting off the pianist with her rubber-glove-encased robot hand, I was splashing cold water on my face. It’s momentum free, repetitive, and transparently desperate to be considered more than just an exploitation vehicle about getting Lohan semi-naked.

Jeff Hammond’s screenplay is memorably poor, filled with first-draft dialogue and shoddily plugged narrative gaps, made worse by what seem to be bits of the film removed at random (the trailer features some shots that didn’t make it into the film, including the arrest of a character who appears in the finished movie several times at the start and then inexplicably disappears). However, it’s Sivertson’s disastrously inept and pretentious direction that really strangles the film. The gap between its ambitions and its effect is gargantuan. A vaguely interesting, if unoriginal idea (separated twins growing up to be vastly different just because of the circumstances of their upbringing) is merely touched on by Hammond and ignored completely by Sivertson, who is more interested in visually signifying the difference between the Lohan twins using a clever colour coding system, where GoodLohan wears a lot of blue, and…

Okay, if you’re getting sick of me making jokes about the colour scheme, watch the movie. I’ve not even begun to approximate how much the colour scheme figures in it. It’s in almost every. goddamn. scene. Some kind soul has listed most of the instances of the symbolism overwhelming the film here, but trust me, it doesn’t take a genius to spot any of it. It makes everything seem like a fantasy, when in actuality it’s all meant to be real, leading to much viewer confusion. It’s just the stupidest, most half-baked directorial decision possible. I used to love the colour blue but this film ruined it for me. My new favourite colour is hot magenta (because I like my magenta like I like my coffee). Thanks a lot for wrecking my brain, I Know Who Killed Me.


The cast is uniformly awful, even Ormond, who gave an award-worthy performance as Smilla in Bille August’s otherwise disappointing Smilla’s Feeling For Snow. I kept wondering if she was trying desperately to forget when she starred alongside Sean Connery and Harrison Ford; another distracting and depressing aspect of the movie. McDonough is an actor we’re very fond of, and was great in Band of Brothers (as well as being the best thing about the dire Boomtown), but here he pitches his line deliveries at the same hysterical level as Ormond. The rest of the cast barely registers amid the garish colours and ugly compositions, trotting out exposition while waiting for the catering table to open.

Lohan is utterly out of her depth, seemingly semi-conscious for a lot of it, unconvincing as a trash-talking vamp, a good girl, a victim and a hero. Even worse, as much as it’s fun to laugh at a terrible performance, her casting seems to have been motivated by playing off her public persona as the Disney girl gone horribly horribly wrong, which might have seemed clever at the time, but now seems utterly cynical and exploitative. Seeing her in “sexxy”-mode, resembling nothing more than a glassy-eyed, oblivious teenager with low self-esteem, was a dispiriting experience, making it hard to think of the movie as dumb fun.

Word is she’s finally trying to give rehab a chance, and that’s great news, but not soon enough for her to realise that she was getting involved with a really silly, nasty bunch of characters out to make a quick buck off her notoriety. I really hope she can recover, and at least approximate the likeable Lohan from Mean Girls, but right now she seems to be sleepwalking around a pole and into disaster, with the sleazoids of the world ready and waiting with $10 bills, hoping to film the final sordid moments.