2004's Identity Theft: The Michelle Brown Story is one of those movies that had to inspire Lifelock or Experian (or maybe it was the other way around). "Identity Theft's" story, well it's a true one, taking place in Denver, Colorado where new homeowner Michelle Brown (Kimberly Williams-Paisley) gets her identity stolen after handing over credit card numbers and other stuff to kooky rental clerk Connie Volkos (played with cocksure and lazy eye discipline by Annabella Sciorra). "You cancelled all your cards right?" Uh yeah, of course I did. What do you think I am, stupid?
So OK, why does Identity Theft: The Michelle Brown Story become so lean and mean in the first two acts only to descend into being some PSA, message flick that eventually gets robbed of having any dramatic momentum or inching tightness? And why does "Identity Theft" end up being preachy when its protagonist Michelle could have served up Connie a dish that's as cold as the frozen tundra (I'm talking revenge here people)? And why oh why oh why, does Michelle's boyfriend (Justin played by Jason London) act like nothing is wrong and tells Michelle she needn't worry about cray cray Karen-s too much? Heck, you'd think he was the darn villain for crying out loud. Yeesh!
Those are good questions and well, I'm not sure director Robert Dornhelm would be willing to answer them. I mean I could email the dude but nah, screw it.
Public Service Announcements, mundane partners, and retaliation aside, Identity Theft: The Michelle Brown Story is the equivalent to a horror pic sans gore, in which one person is so relentless in ruining another person's life that they actually want to become them too. Ugh. Too bad scenes of long-term guidance, not needed manipulation, and sappy self-righteousness forcefully get in the way. Not so grand "theft". Sigh.
So OK, why does Identity Theft: The Michelle Brown Story become so lean and mean in the first two acts only to descend into being some PSA, message flick that eventually gets robbed of having any dramatic momentum or inching tightness? And why does "Identity Theft" end up being preachy when its protagonist Michelle could have served up Connie a dish that's as cold as the frozen tundra (I'm talking revenge here people)? And why oh why oh why, does Michelle's boyfriend (Justin played by Jason London) act like nothing is wrong and tells Michelle she needn't worry about cray cray Karen-s too much? Heck, you'd think he was the darn villain for crying out loud. Yeesh!
Those are good questions and well, I'm not sure director Robert Dornhelm would be willing to answer them. I mean I could email the dude but nah, screw it.
Public Service Announcements, mundane partners, and retaliation aside, Identity Theft: The Michelle Brown Story is the equivalent to a horror pic sans gore, in which one person is so relentless in ruining another person's life that they actually want to become them too. Ugh. Too bad scenes of long-term guidance, not needed manipulation, and sappy self-righteousness forcefully get in the way. Not so grand "theft". Sigh.