I know what killed me. Approximately two hours of sitting through I KNOW WHO KILLED ME on DVD. And if that doesn’t segue appropriately enough for talking about a crappy movie like this one, I’ll simply have to make due.
Grotesquery is the word of the day. Let me ask, what the hell is wrong with this movie? I KNOW WHO KILLED ME, currently available on DVD after its oh-so-short theatrical release subjects us to the slow, senseless torture of a girl who may or may not be Aubrey Fleming (but is probably Lindsay Lohan).
Left for dead, she theoretically resurfaces in the form of Dakota Moss, a girl with a shockingly different account of her identity from the versions of her loved ones. Dakota is sure she isn’t Aubrey, and she’s got the story to prove it. But Aubrey just so happens to be a writer – perhaps she’s been sucked in to the story she is creating?
Ah… therein lies the question.
Of course, the only things sucking in this film are the performances. But this is a blog about writing… particularly about the use of film and DVD to improve our writing. So the performances technically have nothing to do with it.
(Nor does direction, which is a good thing, considering the movie wins no awards in that area either.)
First thing: I am an optimist. Show me any anal rock-monster that gets produced and I’m sure I can find some kernel of corn worth re-digestion.
(Okay, that was disgusting, but give me a break: writing a blog is quite time-consuming, and one must grasp at whatever straws are available.)
The film does have its qualities. Its intriguing premise and sometimes characterization are highlights. Unfortunately, the script fails for a variety of reasons, acting and direction notwithstanding.
Lohan’s dialog as bad girl Dakota Moss often tears from her lips like prose in a trashy romance novel. The plot twists are convoluted to say the least. The climax (and “shocking” reveal) is far less intriguing and more ridiculous than what would have been had the plot followed a normal, obvious path. For once, I was upset that a film did trick me because: a) the twist is ludicrous; and b) the entire third act hammers said twist into place like a square peg through a round hole.
Moss is a slutty stripper, who seems to have taken over where good girl Aubrey left off. But are they within the same body? Has Aubrey created Dakota to “take over” her long life of crowding expectations and overachievements?
It’s not exactly subtle where the story leads us, and this could be the reason thrills are sparse; however, it is a rather clear use of the “foils” literary device we can sink our teeth in to for the purpose of this column.
By forgetting who she is, she shirks the ties that bind her… the desire to be more than she feels capable of… the undue pressure… even the parental restraints. It’s the fantasy of many kids that feel Mom and Dad are coming down too hard on them.
(Hell, I have those desires every time I go to work or pay bills.)
A foil is an opposite… a character that contrasts another in some specific way. While I KNOW WHO KILLED ME fails on many counts, it does give us an excellent model for how foils are constructed. Aubrey is an accomplished writer, an excellent piano player, and the ideal daughter to two nearly perfect parents. She is the girl next door in every sense of the term. But her fictional creation Dakota is a stripper, daughter to an overdosed crack-head, and a foul-mouthed, chain-smoking, promiscuous slut, with loads of street moxie and fierce independence.
Gone are the gray areas: one wears the white hat, the other black. Foils needn’t always be so cut-and-dry. Have you ever had a friend with whom you shared much in common with, but they differed from you in some way of major importance? Perhaps you both take pleasure in the misfortunes of others. You play practical jokes. But maybe your jokes are limited by a moral compass, and your friend’s is broken. While you enjoy the same things… even share certain interests in ideologies… your consciences come to a fork in the road and take different paths.
However you choose to do it, foils are great creations for the drive of your story. Think about the character you are writing. For every character trait you give them, come up with an opposite. At first, it helps to be extreme. Go the full 180 degrees if you have to. But as you grow more skilled at this “opposite game” mentality, bring the traits closer to center. In what ways are they different? In what ways are they alike? What fundamentals do they share? In other words, how close are their core beliefs? Are they Democrat, Republican, Green? Have they at long last wised up and realized their vote is wasted on the richest person and not the most capable?
It’s up for you to decide. Your characters are what make your story. And in the case of foils, your characters are what make your characters. For a fantastic character worksheet, go to http://www.writerswrite.com/journal/jun98/lazy2.htm. You don’t have to answer every section. But don’t neglect the intellectual/beliefs portion. That, after all, is what will drive your character and lead to the creation of others.
Grotesquery is the word of the day. Let me ask, what the hell is wrong with this movie? I KNOW WHO KILLED ME, currently available on DVD after its oh-so-short theatrical release subjects us to the slow, senseless torture of a girl who may or may not be Aubrey Fleming (but is probably Lindsay Lohan).
Left for dead, she theoretically resurfaces in the form of Dakota Moss, a girl with a shockingly different account of her identity from the versions of her loved ones. Dakota is sure she isn’t Aubrey, and she’s got the story to prove it. But Aubrey just so happens to be a writer – perhaps she’s been sucked in to the story she is creating?
Ah… therein lies the question.
Of course, the only things sucking in this film are the performances. But this is a blog about writing… particularly about the use of film and DVD to improve our writing. So the performances technically have nothing to do with it.
(Nor does direction, which is a good thing, considering the movie wins no awards in that area either.)
First thing: I am an optimist. Show me any anal rock-monster that gets produced and I’m sure I can find some kernel of corn worth re-digestion.
(Okay, that was disgusting, but give me a break: writing a blog is quite time-consuming, and one must grasp at whatever straws are available.)
The film does have its qualities. Its intriguing premise and sometimes characterization are highlights. Unfortunately, the script fails for a variety of reasons, acting and direction notwithstanding.
Lohan’s dialog as bad girl Dakota Moss often tears from her lips like prose in a trashy romance novel. The plot twists are convoluted to say the least. The climax (and “shocking” reveal) is far less intriguing and more ridiculous than what would have been had the plot followed a normal, obvious path. For once, I was upset that a film did trick me because: a) the twist is ludicrous; and b) the entire third act hammers said twist into place like a square peg through a round hole.
Moss is a slutty stripper, who seems to have taken over where good girl Aubrey left off. But are they within the same body? Has Aubrey created Dakota to “take over” her long life of crowding expectations and overachievements?
It’s not exactly subtle where the story leads us, and this could be the reason thrills are sparse; however, it is a rather clear use of the “foils” literary device we can sink our teeth in to for the purpose of this column.
By forgetting who she is, she shirks the ties that bind her… the desire to be more than she feels capable of… the undue pressure… even the parental restraints. It’s the fantasy of many kids that feel Mom and Dad are coming down too hard on them.
(Hell, I have those desires every time I go to work or pay bills.)
A foil is an opposite… a character that contrasts another in some specific way. While I KNOW WHO KILLED ME fails on many counts, it does give us an excellent model for how foils are constructed. Aubrey is an accomplished writer, an excellent piano player, and the ideal daughter to two nearly perfect parents. She is the girl next door in every sense of the term. But her fictional creation Dakota is a stripper, daughter to an overdosed crack-head, and a foul-mouthed, chain-smoking, promiscuous slut, with loads of street moxie and fierce independence.
Gone are the gray areas: one wears the white hat, the other black. Foils needn’t always be so cut-and-dry. Have you ever had a friend with whom you shared much in common with, but they differed from you in some way of major importance? Perhaps you both take pleasure in the misfortunes of others. You play practical jokes. But maybe your jokes are limited by a moral compass, and your friend’s is broken. While you enjoy the same things… even share certain interests in ideologies… your consciences come to a fork in the road and take different paths.
However you choose to do it, foils are great creations for the drive of your story. Think about the character you are writing. For every character trait you give them, come up with an opposite. At first, it helps to be extreme. Go the full 180 degrees if you have to. But as you grow more skilled at this “opposite game” mentality, bring the traits closer to center. In what ways are they different? In what ways are they alike? What fundamentals do they share? In other words, how close are their core beliefs? Are they Democrat, Republican, Green? Have they at long last wised up and realized their vote is wasted on the richest person and not the most capable?
It’s up for you to decide. Your characters are what make your story. And in the case of foils, your characters are what make your characters. For a fantastic character worksheet, go to http://www.writerswrite.com/journal/jun98/lazy2.htm. You don’t have to answer every section. But don’t neglect the intellectual/beliefs portion. That, after all, is what will drive your character and lead to the creation of others.
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