Just so you know, this post will contain absolutely no poker content. There, you've been warned.
I finally managed to see the Britney movie Crossroads last weekend. I'd wanted to see it but was holding out for a decent excuse, and it finally arrived in the form of Mr. Sinus, which is an Austin-based show that's a rip-off of the MST3K format, but at a movie theater with real live action and beer and food and what-not. Last weekend they did Crossroads and I was, indeed, in attendance.
Aside from the Britney appeal (which I can't claim to be immune to, despite how pre-packaged and formulaic it may be), the real reason I wanted to see it is that a friend of mine from high school is in it. Not only is he in it, but he's the bad-boy musician guy that ferries the young ladies on their cross-country journey of discovery. Yep, that guy. The one whose name I'm avoiding actually typing out of fear that he'll Google himself one day and find an, umm, less than glowing review of this thespian skills.
All I have to say, in review, is "wow". Don't get me wrong, I like bad movies, love bad movies even. I own Road House. Con Air is one of my favorite movies. Ever. But sweet Jebus, Crossroads is such a freaking hunk of bad junk. And my buddy from high school is somehow, inexpicably, not even the best actor in the flaming hunk of junk that is that movie. He might even be the worst actor in it, as much as that pains me to type.
This isn't entirely surprising, as he was the baliff in our high school's production of 12 Angry Men, not even able to land one of the 12 available speaking Angry Men parts. But he's since gone to college, acted in a ton of things, studied at Columbia, quickly found an agent, got gigs, etc.
To be fair, he didn't have much to work with, and you can't blame any realtively unknown actor-type for leaping at a chance to be in a high-profile flick like that, no matter how bad.
So, umm, yeah. Not good. And there's not even that much sexy Britney content after the first ten minutes or so. Bah.