Movie Reviews

Patti Arpaia, Courtesy Regent Releasing

Review in a Hurry:  This excruciatingly awful "comedy" about a gorgey chick (Paris Hilton) and her butt-ugly BFF (Christine Lakin) is an exercise in narcissism for the overexposed heiress and provides further proof that La Hilton should stick to starring in sex tapes.

The Bigger Picture:  Want your IQ lowered, your will to live crushed, your soul sucked right out of your body—and not in a good way? Try sitting through Hottie, a mutant cross-breed of There's Something About Mary, The Truth About Cats and Dogs and countless others—but with all the heart, brains and humor removed.

This gutted, lobotomized carcass of a movie starts with Maine man Nate Cooper (Joel David Moore) getting dumped by his latest girlfriend. The twentysomething slacker realizes his love life is a mess because he's still mad for Cristabel Abbott, whom he hasn't seen since they were six years old. Yes, Nate still pines for that pretty first-grader. Creepy, no? 

Nate heads to California to track down grown-up Cristabel (Hilton), now the "hottest woman in L.A," her every move tracked by suitors and stalkers. The camera worships her, too, gliding across the preening princess in yoga gear, bikini and lingerie.

Fortunately for Nate, Cristabel is still single and thinks he's, like, totally sweet and stuff. The rub? She won't date or have sex until she can find a man for June Phigg (Lakin), her gal-pal since elementary school.

Hottie goes ludicrously over the top to make June unattractive—blackened teeth, infected toenails, hairy moles, pimples, mustache and bald spots. (Like Cristabel would even be seen with such a person.)

Nate's efforts to fix up "the nottie" go stupidly awry, but it's just a matter of time before the fugly duckling morphs into a swan. And Nate realizes he really loves June instead, because—omigod—they both like Venice and desserts! Who needs any real emotional connection, right?

This Razzies-worthy disaster tries to redeem all the pointless scenes and unfunny gags with a "just be yourself" message, but it's as phony as Lakin's freak-show makeup. Moore, with his high-pitched nasally whine, sputters his way through the role, while vapid Hilton—she of the purr-and-pout school of acting—coos such gems as, "A life without orgasms is like a world without flowers."

If only the world were without this junk.

The 180—a Second Opinion:  The debate over which is the season's worst movie is finally over. In a winter ripe with cinematic turds—Rambo, Meet the Spartans, Over Her Dead Body—this Hottie totally outdoes them all.