An open letter to Mandy Moore

My dearest Mandy,

I like you. I like you a lot. Not in that perverted stalker-type way either. And not in that “what is she doing right now?” paparazzi way either. I just like you. I think of you as a wholesome Hollywood person, even though those two words are unlikely to find each other in the same sentence nowadays. I like your cutesy little bob haircut, those dark mysterious eyes, your rosy little cheeks. I like that I’ve never seen you whoring it up, and as much as I would love to have seen you naked in one of your films, I’m glad that I actually haven’t. I also admire how I hear about you in the entertainment world, but never in an annoying amount. If Lindsay Lohan is No. 1 and Paris Hilton No. 2, then you’re ranked somewhere in the thirties, above Elisha Cuthbert but below Natalie Portman. You have a great deal of talent, be it with singing or acting or just being an adorable person.

But what’s the deal with your movie selections? I’m hesitant on bringing it up, but seriously, what’s going on? Is everything OK? I would send a get well card if I knew where to send it, but I’m not even sure you’re sick. I just know that something is wrong. That’s the only reason anybody would take on an assignment like License to Wed, a bad movie built from a collection of bad frames reeled at 24 frames per second. It’s a symphony of badness. I liked John Krasinski in The Office too, but come on. And before that … Chasing Liberty, How to Deal, Try Seventeen; what happened there? If you’re not getting good scripts, maybe you should hire a new agent. I hear there are lots of agents in the Los Angeles area. Or here’s a suggestion: don’t work unless you’re acting in good movies. You’re probably not filthy rich, but I’m sure you can afford to just chill out and wait for the right script. I’m a journalist and movie critic, which means I make basically nothing compared to you or anyone else (for instance: Wal-Mart managers), and even I could think of clever ways to sustain myself while not working. Or maybe you can just alternate between good scripts and bad scripts, which are usually ones set in high schools or the White House. Even Peter O’Toole did some stinkers, but every now and again he did what he was born to do — serious acting.

Here’s a tip: stay away from any romantic films. Unless of course, you’re an alcoholic or on drugs or a hooker or there is some kind of problem for you to overcome. And drunks and druggies usually aren’t pretty, which would satisfy my second tip — don’t look pretty. Look beautiful on the red carpet at your movie’s premier, but not in the movie itself. Ugly or homely characters are usually written better than girls cut from Cosmo or Seventeen. Nicole Kidman and Charlize got ugly and won Oscars. Try it out. Then try a co-starring role. Be someone’s daughter, preferably Meryl Streep or Glenn Close, or even Kevin Costner (did you see The Upside of Anger?). Or try a fantasy picture or something whimsical and light; I see Natalie beat you to Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium.

Don’t get the wrong idea, Mandy, I think you’ve done some good work. Saved! was terrific. And your performance in A Walk to Remember made me sob like weepy fool. Even some of your music is pretty good, although I’ll admit that pop music isn’t really “my thing.” I see potential in your career, if only it can get out of this rut. I’m sure it’s frustrating to read all this, and from a complete stranger, too. It’s easy for me complain about your work, especially when you’re famous and I’m not. Feel free to offer constructive criticism to my work or to one-up even that and ignore me altogether.

Hang in there, kid. America still believes in you. One script at a time you can change how you will be remembered in the cinema. There’s something in you we haven’t seen yet and I’m positive it will blow us all away when we finally do see it on the silver screen.

Sincerely,

Michael