I Know Who Killed Me
A teenage girl (Lindsay Lohan) narrowly escapes from a serial killer who amputates the limbs of his victims; now, recovering in the hospital and missing a hand and a leg, she seems to be in shock, insisting that she’s not the person the police and her parents say she is. Lohan’s career makes another circle around the drain with this erratic, arrhythmic, wretched mess, good only for skewering on Mystery Science Theatre 3000. Allegedly written by one Jeffrey Hammond and ostensibly directed by someone calling himself Chris Sivertson (two careers even closer to the drain than Lohan’s)—it’s incompetent, even as basic torture-porn. There’s the germ of a promising idea, but Hammond and Sivertson botch it; when you have to resort to a cameo by Art Bell to explain the plot, you’ve jumped the shark big-time.