I’ve been wanting to see this for a while because it seemed like it would be a clear winner in the bad movie category. It ended up being true but not quite as fun to watch as I was hoping. I think the funniest and most confusing part of this movie was the love story. The movie is about two girls driving cross country to LA to become famous. Britney Spears decides to join last minute to meet her mom who lives in Arizona, and their driver is a bad boy that one of the girls just recently met. Britney is a little weirded out that they just aren’t driving but decides in the end that it’s okay, she just wants to see her mom and ask why she left their family. So, on the trip it comes out that the girl that invited the boy doesn’t know that much about him other than the fact that she thinks he was in prison for murdering someone. And no one really has a problem with this? And Brittney starts slowly falling in love with him? He’s also a huge asshole. He is constantly angry that he’s in a car for hours with three girls and yells at them on multiple occasions.
In the end I’m not really sure what the purpose of this movie is. It really just made me want to watch Spring Breakers again!
I have absolutely 0 problems admitting how into Britney Spears I was. She was awesome, okay? I mean, things got sort of shaky after I outgrew her music . . . but I’m talking about classic Britney. Crossroads I think sort of hits on the tail-end of the Britney Spears that I knew and loved.
Maybe it’s because of this that I didn’t think Britney Spears was as awful of an actress as I had assumed. I definitely saw Crossroads in theaters, but don’t really remember much about it except that it wasn’t nearly as good as I had hoped, but just as good as I expected. The second time around brought similar feelings, but I have to admit I thought Britney Spears was okay in it. Nothing special and the plot really doesn’t help anyone out. Nor do the multiple and expected musical scenes, but still. Crossroads sort of reminded me of being in middle school, which isn’t a feeling I really prefer remembering.