I Know Who Killed Me feels like a deliberate exercise in cinematic ineptitude. When movies are released theatrically, they carry with them an obligation to at least appear professional and possess some kind of virtue to entice the audience. With its amateur presentation, “I Know” is better suited as a direct-to-DVD release, or perhaps as a midnight movie on the USA Network back in the early 90’s. It shouldn’t have been made this way at all. Many times, it’s been said about some movies by other people that “pornos have better plots.” I don’t know about better plots, but in regards to this movie, perhaps higher standards.
Given Lindsay Lohan’s colorful public behavior and continuing legal difficulties, playing a stripper with a crackhead mom might not have been the best way to distract from her tabloid image. Fortunately, in the attempted psychological thriller I Know Who Killed Me, Lohan also plays a wealthy college student who writes fiction, excels at the piano and refuses to sleep with her boyfriend. That’s all right, then. Continue reading MasterChugs Theater: ‘I Know Who Killed Me’
If there’s one thing I enjoy about art, it’s an artist’s ability to willingly create something guaranteed to offend the masses. It seems easy: find a piece of collectively assumed “common” thought, and then create something that challenges that thought. The difficulty is separating yourself from common sense long enough to finish that project and then defending it when the townfolk have arrived with your rail.