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Dear Freddie Prinze, Jr.,

Darling, I love you. I think that you are one of the most gorgeous guys in Hollywood. If you had a British accent, you'd be perfect in my eyes. There's just one teensy-weensy problem that we're going to have to deal with before I can bear your children. You have absolutely the worst taste in movie scripts.

Okay, I forgave that whole I Know What You Did Last Summer debacle. And the sequel? I'm assuming that at least one of your relatives was being held at gunpoint when you did that movie.

But this sad waste of quality celluloid? Oh, Freddie...

*Tsk Tsk*

After watching She's All That, I felt like what I needed was some Spam. Ah, Spam... lightweight, pocket-size, an easily removable lidů It comes in just the right degree of malleability to be formed into a ball which, when hurled at the correct speed and angle, makes the most satisfying thump when it slams against a movie screen.

Let's start with the plot. Um... mmm... hmmm... Was there really a plot? I mean, would you really consider a popular guy betting that he can turn a geek into a prom queen a plot? Come on! That's not a plot! That's the daydream of some 14-year-old girl with more zits than matching clothes and a bad habit of getting her braces caught in her fluorescent green cardigan! (You did check to make sure that I didn't -- I mean, some nameless geek didn't write your script, right?)

And shall we move on to the characters, or would that be too painful for you? Granted, Anna Paquin playing your little sister was wicked. And I would personally kill small, fluffy animals to look like Rachael Leigh Cook, the chick playing your love interest, but let's get real here. Rachael's acting has the same texture as a box of Raisin Bran, and she was Oscar material compared to everybody else.

In all honesty, the only place where kudos are in order was the setting. Buffy the Vampire Slayer's high school! Freddie, have I ever told you that I love you? And the Sarah Michelle Gellar cameo just plain old rocked.

Look, doll face... a word of advice. Stop doing teen movies. I thought everybody knew that the only good teen movies were made in the Eighties by John Hughes, starred Anthony Michael Hall or Molly Ringwald, and featured a song by Oingo Boingo. Now, it's the Nineties, John Hughes writes Home Alone movies, and Molly Ringwald lost her acting abilities in a tragic goatherding accident.


Sugar lumps, if I have to kidnap you, tie you to my bed, and ravish you until you don't want to do teen movies anymore, I'll do it, I swear. Because it would sure make up for the disappointment of that final scene in the movie. (Lemme put it this way, ladies and gents, it involves a sadly strategically placed soccer ball. Aw, nuts... um, no pun intended. Really.)

Jennifer Matarese

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