Courtesy of Columbia Tristar Pictures

The room is dark, a purple haze of cigarette smoke hangs languidly in the air, men are shifting nervously in their seats with anticipation at who the next dancer will be. Will she be a vision from their wildest dreams? Or will it be … Lindsay Lohan? Sadly, it is the latter. “I Know Who Killed Me” immediately showcases the film’s star with an its oh-so-dull and way too long striptease performed by none other than the gratuitously freckled Lohan. In the next scene, the audience is catapulted out of the sleazy strip joint into the lovely town of New Salem where a suddenly smart and modest Lohan is reading a creative essay to her classmates. The sultry Lohan, as Dakota Moss, and the demure Lohan as Aubrey Fleming are complete opposites, yet look exactly alike. Who is who? Is Aubrey/Dakota a schizoid? Are the two women twins? Is this some sort of nightmare?

In a flash, the sweet Aubrey Fleming goes missing and believed to have been abducted by a limb-collecting serial killer. Suddenly, the whole town of New Salem is invaded by the FBI, who then begin to furiously investigate the murders. We are immediately confused as to why a town would suddenly bring in the entire police force from Quantico just because a girl is missing. Equally bizarre is the fact that the lovely she turns up in a ditch, minus a few limbs, and is amazingly still alive … sort of. Not only does Fleming now have to hobble around on her new peg leg and maneuver a bionic arm, but she doesn’t believe she is Aubrey Fleming. In fact, she says she is Dakota Moss, the aforementioned stripper. Moss believes the real Aubrey Fleming is somewhere out there still being tortured and that maybe the two are twins. Huh?

Lohan seems to put zero effort into her transformation from virginal nerd to washed-out stripper. In fact her entire performance feels forced, so much so that we find the audience laughing at inopportune moments. During one scene, Fleming’s mother, played by Julia Ormond, attempts to convince Dakota of her real identity, Moss quips, “I know I may look a little like this Aubrey chick, but I’m not her,” attempting to sound tough, gritty and threatening, Lohan sounds more like a little girl playing dress up. The groans of boredom from the audience ensue as we are subjected to further lackadaisical stripteases from Lohan that continue to lack the artistic flare they aim for.

The torture scenes are especially gory, so for those of you with a weak stomach, you may find yourself attempting not to wretch as Lohan’s mottled little fingers are torn off. Unfortunately, distracting audiences from the pure horror is the pure silliness of the murderer’s torture instruments. At first, one might assume that a demonic Papa Smurf was the perp because everything is blue – the killer’s knives, Aubrey’s room, her boyfriend’s roses – and the list goes on. The continuous blue imagery is pointless, distracting and overdone.

When leaving the theater, people seemed confused; were they supposed to like the movie a little or hate it a lot? There was a whiff of indifference in the air. “I Know Who Killed Me” suffers from a missed opportunity for promotions because of Lohan’s addiction woes, but the film fails her too. The movie fails to help mature her image; instead it might continue to add to her life troubles. Sadly, “I Know Who Killed Me” might destroy Lohan’s acting career.