But I am embarrassed to admit I watched the whole thing—and only because doughy-eyed Elijah Wood slays me. Maybe that's the real reason I can't stand you-know-what, because Peter Jackson did his damndest to make the boy look ugly. (And it must have taken quite some work, let me tell you: those baby blues never stop glistening.)
Before the movie started, I commented that Elijah might just be the Jodie Foster of our generation. The rare child star who actually continues to have a career, whose early works are relegated to forgotten studio closets when he one day makes off-beat, indie flicks that are surprisingly delightful.
Ten minutes into it, this argument held no ground. The fact that Mandy Moore co-stars in this film should have scared me away from the get-go. But this is not simply a bad B-movie to laugh about over alcohol. It is dreadful. Wood and Moore must have been utterly stoned (or very keen to bed each other) when opting to take on this project.
Not too long ago, I made a list of various people I would like to date. (Scooby Doo was surprisingly high on the list, his personhood aside—c'mon, wouldn't it be cool to date Scooby Doo?) But after this, Elijah, I'm sorry, you've been demoted to a one night stand.
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