This weekend, I was in a weakened state (i.e., two glasses of wine) and enjoying a night at home. I perused On Demand for a movie to watch. I’m sure there were many culturally enriching documentaries and artsy independent films, but my eye was caught by another kind of film: The Canyons, starring Lindsay Lohan and James Deen of Backdoor Teen Mom fame. I was hoping it would be so bad it’s good, in the vein of my all-time favorite movie, Showgirls. While nothing could measure up to Elizabeth Berkeley’s femme fatale, if any movie is 10% as entertaining as Showgirls, I’m in. So I paid the $7.99 (!!), filled up my sauv blanc, and dove in.
This movie, you guys. What a mess. James Deen just scowled like a curmudgeon the entire time. I think it was supposed to be sexy? Other things that were supposed to be sexy but weren’t: Lindsay’s topless scene; Lindsay herself; JD’s (admittedly impressive) full frontal; JD himself; several awkward (and by all accounts unenjoyable for everyone involved) group sex scenes. Other highlights include an invention–Text TV–(this is not a thing, right?!), which appears to exist solely to allow the viewers to read the texts Lindsay’s character was receiving in one scene. Really, who would want their Real Housewives of Wherever interrupted to read the text that is on the phone that you’re currently holding in your hand? Another unrealistic tech aspect is the fact that JD swapped phones with Lindsay’s character and she didn’t realize it for like 18 hours. Bret Easton Ellis clearly isn’t young anymore.
However, there was one character that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from. What stage presence. What charisma. My friends, I dare you to watch this movie and resist becoming entranced by Lindsay’s hair. Greasy on top, polyester on the bottom. Party all over. I couldn’t stop shouting about the hair and makeup heads that needed to roll, until I read that due to budget constraints each actor did their own hair and makeup. Ah, now that makes sense.
I’m in.
-Spencer