[I know, I know, I usually save the bad review collections for former Academy Award winners, but this is a special case. This is a movie that should never have been made -- Guarini and Clarkson should've headed to the studio right away and recorded albums to have been released by last Thanksgiving, not filmed a quick cash-in movie for which neither of them was qualified, and for which the show wasn't designed.]
Oh, it's not a good weekend to be a tuffle-head. Let's start with Jack Matthews, from the New York Daily News:
The Simon Cowell in me wants to say to last year's "American Idol" winner Kelly Clarkson and runnerup Justin Guarini that their performances in the spring-break movie "From Justin to Kelly" are just awful.
Dreadful. Possibly the worst pro acting debuts I've ever seen.
But that distracts from the film itself, which is more than awful, more than dreadful, and easily the worst beach movie ever made.
Yep, worse than "Beach Blanket Bingo," worse than "Sizzle Beach, U.S.A.," and way worse than the recent reality bust "The Real Cancun," which at least had titillation value.
Stephen Hunter, Washington Post:
Oy and woe, double trouble boil and bubble, has it come to this? Yes, it's come to this: the movie, produced, edited, scored and released in six months, starring the winner and runner-up of last year's Foxstravaganza "American Idol," turns out to be industrial-strength insipidity diluted only marginally by bad music and worse dancing. As a showcase for Ms. No. 1 and Mr. No. 2, it seems unlikely to advance careers out of the Trivial Pursuit answer category. Basically it's "Where the Boys Are," all Foxed up with no place to go. . . .
The result is pretty much the same as watching ants panic when you drop a firecracker into their hill. Not pretty, but damned lively.
Christopher Kelly, from the Fort Worth Star-Telegram:
As hard as I tried, the critic in me couldn't be repressed. I couldn't stop obsessing about the bad lighting -- the exterior shots are all overcast, the interior shots are all harsh and grimy, so that everyone's skin takes on the color and texture of curdled cottage cheese. Your average TV news weather report is more visually striking -- and your average weather forecaster is certainly able to generate more chemistry with a blue screen than Clarkson and Guarini can summon up. They look stilted and unsteady together, as if one of them has just been diagnosed with SARS and the other is afraid it's catching.
Nor could I help but puzzle over why, as every actor runs circles around them half-naked, Clarkson and Guarini just keep piling on the clothes, covering up every square inch of skin. Or why -- despite the wall-to-wall bikini-clad girls and shirtless boys -- I've seen episodes of Jimmy Neutron sexier than this movie.
Over to Wesley Morris, writing for the Boston Globe:
They have the chemistry of step-siblings, so a movie that has them make out is, as the one of the few girls in the theater exclaimed, ''so gross.''
''From Justin to Kelly'' was made so soon after their victories there was barely time to change their names. So Kelly plays ''Kelly'' and Justin plays ''Justin,'' and anyone who plunks down $10 to see them sing plays the fool. . . .
What's depressing about ''From Justin to Kelly,'' whose title seems to refer to the text messages he sends her, is that it's been made without a lick of love, skill, or, apparently, money. ''American Idol'' judge Randy Jackson is more attractive than this movie.
This happens to be a Robert ''She's All That'' Iscove joint. You can tell because ''From Justin to Kelly'' has the same remarkable cruddiness the director cultivated for his Freddy Prinze Jr. vehicles: the noncommittal camerawork; the sub-boy-band choreography; the insulting cluelessness about human behavior, happy endings, kissing, and life as it is generally known on earth. Kim Fuller whipped up the script, evidently in minutes, and he collaborated on the rest of the PG production to tell us that music brings the people of spring break together. Yeah!
And finally, Lou Lumenick, from the New York Post:
'From Justin to Kelly," a quickie attempt to wring a few more bucks from last year's "American Idol" finalists, is arguably the most insipid movie released so far this century. . . .
"I can tell you right now that none of the critics are going to like this movie," [Clarkson] told TV Guide. "They're going to tear into it."
Right on the first count Kelly; wrong on the second.
To truly tear into a movie, it first has to engage you, however negatively.
"From Justin to Kelly" is the movie equivalent of general anesthetic; the handful of unwary civilians emerging from yesterday's first show at the Union Square looked like they had just awoken from a very deep sleep.
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