D.
Simon Olson
Colour
Someone should turn Kelly Brook’s life story into a movie.
An enterprising filmmaker should take the phenomenon that is Kelly Brook and
forensically examine just what the hell is going on. Why is it that this pretty
girl with large breasts has been taken into the collective hearts of the
British public? There are after all so many other pretty girls with large
breasts, so many other pretty girls with large breasts who strip to their
underwear for newspapers and magazines and would die for this kind of public
adulation, but would never in their finest dreams get a whiff of it. (Okay,
there was Jordan, but her relationship with the British public is a lot more –
how should I put this? - estranged these days). What’s more Kelly Brook has
managed to retain this affection even though her limitations have been exposed
again and again and again. She is a terrible TV presenter, there are hours and
hours of footage to attest this. She is a godawful actress, there are masses of
both cinematic and televisual evidence to this effect. Furthermore there’s
plenty of written testimony as to how poor she has been in her stage roles. She
isn’t getting better, there are no lost gems, she just stays the same abysmal
level and fails time after time. And the thing is she is never chastised for
this, she seemingly never loses the public’s affection. Of course, you will
say, the tabloids love her because she is a pretty girl with large breasts who
is frequently seen in her underwear, but then there are lots of pretty girls
with large breasts who are frequently seen in their underwear, and none of the
others are treated like this. How is this happening? Is she some kind of modern
day Helen of Troy who bewitches all around her with her heavenly beauty? Well,
maybe – but then there are other girls prettier than her, who also have large
breasts. Is it then some mass hypnosis she is working on the masses? Bending
our minds so that we forget her many failings and instead love her always as
that pretty girl with the large breasts who looks so fetching in her underwear
shots. Or maybe – and I’m thinking way outside the box here – is it some extra-terrestrial
plot to lull us into complacent acceptance of mediocrity and soften us up for ultimate
invasion? I honestly don’t know the answer and outlandish and insane theories
are the best I can come up with. I’ve no idea how this particular pretty girl
with large breasts, who is really at her best posing in her undies in still
photographs for calendars each year, has managed to create this on-going
career, to achieve this level of fame. It truly baffles me. And that’s why some
enterprising director/producer/screenwriter combo has to get to work to explain
how this phenomenon is happening. But of course if ‘The Kelly Brook Story’ was
filmed, you’d have to find another actress to play the lead part, as I
guarantee that if she plays herself we’re in for a very stilted performance.
This modern day Hammer Horror knock-off (bright red blood in
the Home Counties) really amplifies Kelly Brook’s flaws as an actress. Here she
is essentially asked to play two parts, when most films realise that she is
stretched in one. Firstly she is a virginal school teacher (for virginal, see
wears a cardigan, a buttoned up shirt and unflattering glasses); then – thanks
to being possessed by her ancient witch ancestor – she becomes a bloodsucker in
a leather swimsuit and cape. It’s that part, with the curves, the naked legs
and the cleavage that’s supposed to bring in the paying punters. Kelly Brook
does know that her best assets have to be front and centre. Unfortunately she
fails to be even remotely convincing in either role. As a schoolteacher her
performance consists solely of a worried look and the occasional frown of
frustrated disappointment. While as a vampire she does little more than – well
– vamp. There is a lot of standing with her hands on her hips, her thighs
slightly apart, pouting at the camera with a wind machine behind her – as if
this was a Halloween themed shot for October in this year’s calendar. None of
this adds up to acting, none of it adds up to much more than decoratively
posing.
Around her the cast of drama school grads runs about and
acts scared and gets killed, and its either the case that none of them are any
good either or they’ve lowered their level of performance to fit in with the
star. There are attempted shocks and thrills, gore by the bucketload, but only
the occasional hint of nudity – as clearly the pretty girl with the large
breasts wasn’t ready for that at this point in her career, and if the main draw
won’t get down to her drawers, then what’s the point?
So the question remains….
How does Kelly Brook’s career survive terrible and almost
unwatchable films like this and stand pert and untarnished to this day?
The phenomena needs to be investigated and we must be told
the truth.
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