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Preston A. Whitmore II
Billie Frank is a shy, young multiracial girl who is sent away by her alcoholic mother at a very early age. At an orphanage, she befriends Louise and Roxanne. Flash forward to 1983. Billie and her friends are spotted by a record producer, Timothy Walker, who wants them to sing backup for his latest pop-music discovery. But when super DJ Julian Dice hears Billie's incredible voice, he makes a shady deal with Timothy to get her out of that dead-end situation. Soon, Billie and Dice are making hits inside the studio, and falling in love outside of it. Eventually, the pressure of her newfound celebrity puts too heavy a strain on Billie, forcing her to decide what it is she really wants from Dice, and what she wants for herself. Written by
Mariah Carey cannot be excused from this wreckage....
...because, as her vanity project, she undoubtedly had the final yea or nay on what went into this mess. The inexplicable glitter strip (note: watch for continuity errors in its location)? The longest-lived cat ever? Telepathic songwriting? The most unsympathetic cast of characters since "A Clockwork Orange?" Ms. Carey knew, or should have known.
Mariah's acting is, well.... zombified. Her screen presence would actually be explained by her being under the influence of some medication designed to help with her later well known breakdown. Ms. Carey proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that bad over-acting makes for more entertaining badfilm than bad under-acting, which just leaves the viewer wondering why the movie was made. I couldn't tell for sure whether the rest of the cast's tepid-to-annoying performances were due to their own bad acting or from trying to perform across from the lifeless Ms. Carey; after 45 minutes, I couldn't care either. A well-deserved 1.
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