Spears's Crossroads hits speedbumps
Well I hope you're satisfied. I sacrificed myself for all you people
who want to read a scathing review for once- regardless of the suffering
that entails on my part. So last Saturday my brother and I went to Hoyts
in disguise and joined dozens of giggly little girls in a showing of Crossroads,
the most recent Hollywood disaster starring that could've-been-but-fortunately-never-was-Bowdoin-student,
I have to admit that the movie surprised me: I thought it would be inhumanly
horrible, but actually it was just really bad; I thought it would make
me throw up, but actually I just broke out into maniacal laughter; I thought
I would lose my reason for living, but actually I just cuddled into a
fetal position in a corner and started mumbling.
Crossroads tells the here-we-go-again story of three ex-friends who go
on a road trip to California for their own selfish reasons and somehow
(as there is no actual plot to help us understand) learn on the way that
they can be "best friends forever!" Oh boy!
Try as it might, Hollywood couldn't convince us: we know that Britney
can't act beyond a Pepsi commercial, and that Dan Akroyd is way too ugly
to play her Dad.
The three girls are highly worn out molds of stereotypical teenagers.
Kit (Zoe Saldana from Center Stage) is the popular girl with an attitude.
Mimi (Taryn Manning) is the trailer-park burnout who got pregnant while
drunk. Then, of course, there's Lucy (Britney Spears), the virginal valedictorian/school
nerd whom all young girls should look up to
Whoa- back up- does this movie actually expect us to believe that the
perfectly tanned, well-dressed, absolutely beautiful Britney is a straight-A
geek who's never done it?
Crossroads thrusts Britney's near perfect looks at us in hopes that we
overlook her total lack of acting talent and that some guys bother buying
tickets. Exhibit A: the opening scene shows the innocent Britney seductively
singing Madonna in skimpy panties. Exhibit B: the innumerable "check
her out" up and down body shots of the "diva." Exhibit
C: thirty total seconds of pure navel shots.
The only imperfection in this girl's physique was the permanent pimple
caused by a gummi bear that someone had thrown onto the middle of the
Tamra Davis (Billy Madison, Half-Baked), whom I'm sure Britney's agents
must've held at gunpoint before she agreed to direct this film, did what
she could with the nonexistent story and sultry cast to make something
that may be called a movie. Sadly, there is simply no way to mold crap
into art-or even entertainment. Hopefully she'll recover someday.
If anyone you know over the age of 12 tells you they liked this movie,
look at them funny and walk away-they've been infected, and may try to
spread the disease. Give them time. Soon, they'll recover. Soon, my friends,
we'll all recover.
For more nastiness, visit www.cinnamoninformatics.com/fantazmya