Review of I Know Who Killed Me (2007) by Catherine C — 01 Jul 2009

No, you are not hallucinating those three stars.

I raise my hand and defend I Know Who Killed Me; this film is not nearly as awful as everyone has made it to be, mostly for the simple reason that it is a commendably passionate experiment and NOT some lame studio cash-in. Its numerous creative missteps come across as fascinating rather than cheap-- and with material this... eh, weird, and I would never trade those flaws for workmanlike efficiency. I reckon this is director Chris Sivertson's first mainstream motion picture, and as a film student myself, I can acknowledge his imaginative approach to the project is anything but machine-pressed hackwork.

In short, I Know Who Killed Me is an increasingly bizarre thriller-- what starts out as some conventional serial killer whodunit eventually blossoms into a vaguely supernatural psycho-shocker. Very character-driven, Jeffrey Hammond's approach to the 'big mystery' is stunningly uncommon : instead of piling up clues and possible resolutions, we are left to watch how Aubrey/Dakota lives past her torturous abduction for a good deal of time. It's not very rewarding (in terms of pacing and 'conventional' enjoyment, if you will) to watch our heroine learning to live with her electronic limbs and a bunch of strangers that claim they are her family, but it's as darkly humourous as it is disturbing. Hammond's portrayal of two drastically opposed young girls is fascinating-- they are fleshed out enough to be credible, and the collision of their worlds is either strangely compelling or comically awkward. Things don't hold together quite coherently as time passes-- needless to say, the film is very badly stitched together and mostly fails as a pop thriller-- but a quick look at the (originally planned) Alternate Ending on the DVD makes it clear that without this studio-driven amputation (pun intended), the result isn't as incoherent.

As for Chris Sivertson's directorial approach, it is also one of the strong points of the film, if not the strongest. As pointed out by everyone who has seen I Know Who Killed Me, the red & blue symbolism is monstrously overdone. But you know what? To me, that's exactly what's so curious and excessive and loopy and awesome about all of it. It brings me to asking myself if viewers even question themselves on what effect was intended and what it brings to the story-- I believe it was intended to drown the audience in a simplistic but unquestionably effective color scheme. Even cooler : Sivertson knowns how to stage menacing, nasty atmospheres, and the imagery is also quite inspired-- combined with the moments of genuine camerawork, it often results in truly beautiful scenes, like the one where blue petals float into a bedroom mirror, past an owl, and down to a tranquil wooded stream. The strip-club scenes also shine by their lighting compositions and somber progression. The use of split-screen during the last third is also memorable, and even the requisite climactic bloodbath is stylishly delivered. Accompanied by a stormy, soulful score by Joel McNeely that is more noticeable in the final segments, the sound design is also a major plus.

Being the focus of nearly every scene, it's clearly Lohan's show all along, and despite the two or three awkward, mechanical lines she misdelivers, I was more than pleased with the fierce devotion in her portrayal of Aubrey/Dakota. I've never really been a fan of hers, but drunken girl antics aside, I believe she plays her part(s) with both energy and surprising detachment instead of emoting all over the place. It's by no means a triumphant performance, but if she tried showing us range; she succeeded, and without ever boosting the intensity one notch too high or too low. The supporting cast, excluding Julia Ormond, less so. They are one-dimensional and somewhat wooden, and what comes out of their mouths often feels forced, especially with those blaringly incompetent FBI agents. On a negative note, the police hits levels of stupidity I've rarely seen in films lately. Bad.

Still... oh, sweet baby Jesus in a crackpipe, how I wished people would stop approaching this film so fucking subjectively. It's saddening.

Of course, any way you look at it, the result is clearly uneven. It's undeniable. In-between all that batshit-crazy oddness, I Know Who Killed Me struggles to be watchable by mainstream audiences, and of course, it fails... but this failure is all the more delightful in my opinion. For me, this one is still a sometimes successful, sometimes absurd but mostly remarkable attempt at piecing together an artistic thriller that refuses to play it safe. I cannot possibly follow the trend of bashing it just for the sake of hammering yet another nail in Lohan's floundering film career. That being said, I look forward to Sivertson's next project with reasonable expectations, and I hope that eventually people will eventually recognize that high-profile shit like 2007's Norbit and Rush Hour 3 really are the modern plague of American cinema. Not this.

Peace out.