From Justin to Kelly

Reality TV is a strange beast. From Survivor to Joe Millionaire to The Bachelor and the dozens of failures in between, all claim to be presenting real people in gimmicky situations. And then there’s everyone’s favorite talent show, American Idol, the current king of the unscripted genre. The first season came down to the girl-next-door charm and gorgeous voice of Kelly Clarkson and the big hair and teenage-crush smile of Justin Guarini. Officially, Kelly won but both went on to make a movie, if you want to call it as such. I’d rather refer to it as one of the most surreal 90 minutes of my life.

Molded in the simpleton style of the old Frankie and Annette beach musicals, From Justin to Kelly is so awful it hits the bottom of the bad-o-meter and bounces back up to be sort of good. Bear in mind, if you are going to venture out into the deserted cinemas that are showing it, expect something awful. That way you can laugh along with Justin as he degrades himself to a human boom box voice or Kelly as she struggles to play the giggly teenager stuck in a twenty-something’s body.

It’s Spring Break and Southern belle Kelly (Kelly Clarkson) is dragged to Miami by her friends Kaya (Anika Noni Rose) and Alexa (Katherine Bailess). Why? Because their airline went bankrupt and Kelly is the only one with a car. But we’re not supposed to think that Kelly is being used but rather that destiny is calling her to a curly haired gremlin.

Meanwhile, Justin (Justin Guarini) is part of Miami’s party central as he’s the organizer of major bashes, whip cream bikini contests and the like. Along for the ride are Saved By the Bell‘s Slater and Screech, err, I mean his buddies Brandon (Greg Siff) and Eddie (Brian Dietzen), a wannabe stud and leftover Hollywood 80’s nerd respectfully. Justin and Kelly hit it off with a look across the crowd and an impromptu Bollywood-style musical number. But they can’t seem to hook up. Justin’s text messages are kept from Kelly so their signals are always crossed. For someone as desperate as Justin, I don’t know why he just wouldn’t try to talk to Kelly in person but I guess that would actually show common sense.

Keeping their names, Kelly and Justin are sort of playing themselves but they’re simply the “Tiger Beat” versions of their American Idol personas. They’re the imagined prom king and queen of the show living a fairy tale filled with romance, bad comedy and fashions that will likely be laughable by the time the next generation comes along and digs it up amongst Mom’s music collection and Dad’s stack of magazines. Like it or not, From Justin to Kelly is the mark of our current times. It captures what’s hot (or at least was six months ago) and in turn becomes something that’s not.

From Justin to Kelly has all the makings of a frat party drinking game after the DVD is released. Take one shot if Brandon is busted, two shots whenever Eddie trips over a piece of furniture and a large chug every time Justin’s lip-synching is out of whack.

From concept to screen in about a year (this is including a couple months of studio-induced delays), the technical aspects of the movie are a mess. The writing is the obvious one, but what about the tire tracks in the sand as Brandon runs from a beefcake biker bully that are obviously from the truck carrying the video camera? Would a side crane be too hard of a solution?

I haven’t laughed this hard in a while. Of course it was in all the wrong spots and mixed with an underlying groan. From Justin to Kelly is as much fun as you want to make of it. Whatever you do, don’t take it seriously. Go in expecting the worst movie ever and you should beat all expectations.