“Do I look like I’m in a fucking coma?” snarls Lindsay Lohan, having just woken up in hospital missing an arm and a leg. No, but she probably was when she signed up to headline this preposterous ‘adult’ thriller. Sliced and diced by her unfriendly local serial killer, poor Lohan isn’t sure whether she’s student Aubrey or stripper Dakota. Trouble is, we’re never sure either, reducing Chris Sivertson’s atrociously written film to an unintentionally hilarious cross between Basic Instinct and The Parent Trap.
Read the full I Know Who Killed Me review
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