Snap Judgment: Lindsay, your ship has come in

What not-quite-good-enough-to-be-summer-releases await us on this fair morn? I'm just as excited to find out as you are.


Poseidon (cruise ship and/or box-office disaster, rated PG-13, directed by Wolfgang Peterson, written by Mark Protosevich)

Okay, first of all, I've been forced to look upon this poster (or a similar version thereof) every single morning on my way back from Starbucks when I pass by the Metro bus stop that it adorns. And every day that I've seen it, I've had the same angry thought: MAY DAY IS MAY FIRST, YOU IDIOTS! "But Nick," you say, "they're talking about mayday the maritime distress code, not May Day the labor holiday that commemorates the 1886 Haymarket Riots in Chicago." And I must say you're surprisingly well-informed, since even I didn't know the last half of that sentence until I checked Wikipedia. But never mind. Isn't it needlessly confusing to put "MAYDAY" in big letters above a date which is not, in fact, May Day? I'm going to offer my services here and suggest some alternate copy for the poster which I feel would be much more appropriate:
_______________
MAY DAY
May 1st

OUR MOVIE
May 12th

Stay home for both.
_______________


Just My Luck (comedy, rated PG-13, directed by Donald Petrie, written by like 5 people who probably acted all snarky and offended when Lindsay Lohan was cast but secretly celebrated because it meant more money for them)

INT. FOX STUDIO EXEC'S OFFICE - DAY

A beautiful young woman enters. Playful yet determined, she is the very picture of a rising movie star.

STUDIO EXEC: Wrong office. Casting is down the hall.

The young woman exits.

A haggard, strung-out, barely conscious woman with 40-year-old skin and a hacking cough enters.

STUDIO EXEC: Lindsay! Come on in.

LINDSAY: Mind if I smoke?

STUDIO EXEC: Go right ahead.

She lights up. Seconds later, the fire alarm begins blaring. The studio exec's phone rings.

STUDIO EXEC (into phone): No, no, don't evacuate. It's just Lohan. (He hangs up.)

LINDSAY: Okay, talk to me.

STUDIO EXEC: Oh, you're going to love this one. It's right up your alley and it shoots next month in MANHATTAN!

LINDSAY: For fuck's sake, would you take it down a decibel? I've got a fucking hangover that could kill a fucking walrus.

STUDIO EXEC: Sorry, sorry. We're really excited about this. You play this charming, beautiful woman who--

LINDSAY: Yeah, whatever. Talk money.

STUDIO EXEC: Seven point five million.

LINDSAY: Meal allowance?

STUDIO EXEC: Five hundred a day.

LINDSAY: Crack allowance?

STUDIO EXEC: Two thousand a day.

LINDSAY: Penalty for setting stuff on fire accidentally?

STUDIO EXEC: Absolutely none.

LINDSAY: What about on purpose?

STUDIO EXEC: Don't worry about it.

LINDSAY: All right, let's do it. Send the paperwork over when it's ready. I gotta go pretend to eat a hamburger for my Elle Girl interview.



Down In The Valley (drama, rated R, written/directed by David Jacobson)

Oh sure, it's a movie about a cowboy in the city, which brings to mind the term "urban cowboy," which brings to mind the movie Urban Cowboy, which brings to mind John Travolta trying to look cool riding a mechanical bull. But despite all that, it has something else going for it, something that can only be described with a certain three words that have become sacred to this blog: Evan. Rachel. Wood. Therefore, it's a safe bet we'll be seeing it at some point.