Summary Judgment: Georgia Rule

On Friday afternoon, for some unknown reason, I went to see Georgia Rule with my buddy Oliver (shown above on the right at Mardi Gras; I'm the one on the left in the wig). It's not as bad as it could have been, though. I'm not proud of this, but Oliver and I saw White Chicks in the theater as well. We don't make good choices most of the time.

Georgia Rule opens with Lindsay Lohan standing outside a car in the middle of nowhere talking to her mom, Desperate Housewives. She tells her mom that she's not going with her, and her mom drives away. Then I notice that they're in Idaho, which, combined with the title, confuses me. Eventually Lindsay gets to her grandma's house, and her grandma tells her to go fuck herself. That's true, too. I really didn't make that up.

The rest of the movie is a combination of Lindsay Lohan wearing slutty clothes, giving blowjobs, and alternately confirming and denying that she was molested by her creepy stepfather (Spoiler alert: she was molested). There's some Mormon spies, too, a veterinarian who practices on people, and Lindsay Lohan pretending to be intelligent by saying things like, "That's Ezra Pound. The poet." I shit you not. That's a line from the film.

I have more that I could say about this crapfest, not least of which is that it's essentially a drama about the harrows of child molestation that's billed as a jaunty coming-of-age comedy, but I really just don't care. It sucked, and that's that. Take it to the bank.