Labor Day weekend, I visited my parents and viewed a movie a day with my mom, who not only shares my love of movies, but also my love of going to the same film multiple times. We subscribe to the theory that if it's good, it's going to keep compelling you. Day 3 of our jaunt involved the Alexis Bledel vehicle Post Grad, in which a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed college graduate loses out on her dream job and is forced to move back in with her wacky family, while growing frustrated with the lack of opportunities and remaining completely clueless to her hot but platonic best friend's advances. (Um, where ARE these hot, sensitive dudes who will rub your feet, feed you Eskimo pies and write you songs? Oh right, THEY DON'T EXIST. Teenage girls, don't believe the hype.) Naturally, hijinks and hilarity ensue.
In short, there's a terrific film to be made about the postcollege crisis, when the majority of successful and idealistic kids who have rocked life thus far, get their hopes crushed over and over and over again while learning a little something about themselves in the process. Post Grad is not this film.
In the spirit of the film, I shall now take on the role of a career counselor and advise its participants:
Alexis Bledel, let's start with you. I think (deep breath) you need to go back to TV. Don't get me wrong, I love your pretty blue eyes and gurgly delivery. I'm old enough to remember your pre-Gilmore Girls career as a teen model. And of course, your Rory Gilmore possessed an intellectual sweetness that couldn't be denied, especially paired with Lauren Graham's Lorelai--one of the best mother-daughter relationships ever portrayed on screen (big and small). (With that in mind, don't rule out a reunion.) This is where your strengths lie, honey--a well-written, cerebral television drama. Maaaaaybe a sitcom. No one's faulting you for trying out a movie lead, and before you say Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, I thought you were a lovely Lena. That said, the Sisterhood films were ensemble pieces. You don't have the charisma to carry an entire movie, even one that is better written than Post Grad. You are a TV actress, and TV is so kickass these days, that's not necessarily a bad thing.
Oh, and one more thing. Your skin? Looks terrible. You have lines in places where twentysomething women should not. If you smoke, quit. If you have eating problems, seek help and gain a little weight. I don't mean to body snark, but you're prematurely aging and it doesn't look good.
Zach Gilford: Zach, I've liked you ever since the pilot episode of Friday Night Lights, when your shy, stuttering QB2 who lives with his dementia-afflicted grandma, stepped it up after the QB1 was unexpectedly paralyzed midgame. In an ensemble of characters who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, your Matt Saracen was tested the most, and your performance over three seasons has a sympathetic grace. Can you successfully make the transition to movies? The verdict is still out. Your Post Grad role is so wooden and one-dimensional that I want to see you test your acting chops in another film. A better one. Call your agent, buddy.
Michael Keaton: Daaaaamn, you've aged nicely. (fluffs hair and reapplies lip gloss) So, your Walter Malby degenerates over 90 minutes from lovable doofy dad to borderline retarded subhuman. Yikes. But wow, do you chew up the scenery every second you're on screen. And it's so fun to see you up there again. Can you re-team with Tim Burton? I know he's all Team Depp, but I bet there's room for you too. In the meantime, do a play. Preferably in Chicago, so we can meet for drinks afterwards. Granted, I was seven when you made Beetlejuice, but I've been told I'm very mature for my age.
Jane Lynch and J.K. Simmons: Anyone who's seen either of you in, well, anything will not question why you both work so much. In fact, you both were in two of the three movies I saw that weekend (Post Grad, plus Extract and Julie & Julia). So can either or both of you just be in every movie and TV show ever from now on? You have the rare ability to transcend horrendous writing and make the audience smile and yelp, "Hey, it's that guy/gal!" And J.K., I'm not just saying this because I made eye contact with you at the Crunch in Santa Monica last February. You were on the treadmill, and I was the dork in pigtails en route to power yoga.
Okay, Rodrigo Santoro? You will always be Karl in Love Actually to me, and that role was far less creepy, because you were hitting on a woman (Laura Linney) in your age range. Macking on Alexis Bledel? Ewwwww. Dude, you've already established a Hottie Legacy, no need to parlay that into anything other than modeling underwear and doing more Chanel ads. Preferably while wearing glasses. Raaar.
Carol Burnett: You comedy legend, you. I only have one thing to say, and it does not concerned your unparalleled hilarity. Here goes: FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, STOP PUMPING YOUR FACE FULL OF RESTALYNE. It stings to look at you.
Hollywood: I've never written a screenplay before. I could have done a better job with this. Take that as a challenge and call me. I'm also available for script doctoring, and I won't even make a stink a la the brains behind Damon and Affleck. Just pay me.
You, the reader: Don't spend money on this movie. Wait till it's in the element it was tailor-made for: on a rainy Saturday afternoon on TBS. That's where it's going, guaran-damn-teed.