Just My Luck

Anyone who reads this site regularly knows that I used to love, LOVE Lindsay Lohan. I found her cute and amusing in her early Disney flicks (The Parent Trap, “Freaky Friday”) and downright hot and hilarious in Mean Girls. I even rejoiced in following her antics in the gossip blogs… That is, until what seemed like harmless fun-loving youth antics revealed to be manic-depressive, desperate for attention, brashness overcompensating for insecurity, Hollywood decadence. Now that’s just sad.

Still, I could (and remain willing to in the future) discard that off-the-set behaviour if it didn’t affect her work, but her excessive partying is unfortunately evident on screen. You can barely recognize the girl with the sweet face (and huge cans) that used to charm audiences. She still looks relatively good (and breasty), but at the same time you can’t help but notice how strung out she seems to be. Her voice is hoarse, she always looks tired even though she’s plastered with make-up to hide it and, worst of all, she displays little of her usual charisma and comic timing.

It doesn’t help that “Just My Luck” is an idiotic comedy that uses its high-concept premise (always-gets-what-she-wants chick kisses loser dude (Chris Pine) and he inherits her extraordinary luck while everything goes wrong for her) not for any kind of reflection or ironic comment on chance (à la Match Point), but only as an excuse for a series of pratfalls. The latter are made particularly unfunny by the fact that they’re not even driven by actual bad luck but by the sheer stupidity of the characters (or the screenwriters). When Ashley Albright’s hairdryer catches on fire, she throws it in the bath then opens the water faucet. When she drops a contact lens in the kitty litter, she picks it up and puts it back in her eye. And when she drops half a box of Tide in the washing machine, she turns it on anyway. What a moron! Comedy needs to be based in some semblance of reality, or at least to follow an internal logic. Otherwise, it’s just annoying chaos.

Don’t believe it pleases me to write this. I truly wish I could have enjoyed the film and focus on that instead of rambling on about Lohan’s downfall. I love (loved?) her, but there’s only so much I can take. Here’s hoping she stops hanging out with the likes of Paris Hilton, getting wasted too much and not eating enough, and that she embraces the adorable curvy redhead she used to be instead of trying to be just like all the other anorexic blonde sluts in Hollywood.