Jennifer's Body

Weighted down by expectation, encumbered with the usual American prejudices against genre and plagued by logistical difficulties – parent imprint, Fox Atomic, has since shut up shop - screenwriter Diablo Cody’s follow up to Juno received less than ecstatic notices upon its US release last September. That’s hardly fair. Though it’s uneven in places and in some need of ruthless pruning, the concept – Heathers with a succubus – is inspired; the dialogue retains the snark, crackle and pop that scored Ms. Cody an Oscar. A horror-comedy named for equally spirited Hole anthem, Jennifer’s Body represents the alpha and the omega of the Bad Girl movieverse; twenty-somethings playing schoolgirls playing hot lesbians, mean-spirited bike-shed rules and skilfully constructed barbs. At the centre of the lunch room action we find bookish Anita “Needy” Lesnicki (Amanda Seyfried) and her improbably popular BF, Jennifer (Megan Fox), a wiggling, pouting boy-magnet whose man-eating powers come in handy when an unfortunate encounter with a Satan-worshipping indie-rock band leaves her with a taste for human flesh. It’s just that sort of flick. Ms. Fox, who successfully channels Marilyn Monroe and Baby Jane in equal measures, spits out chunks of flesh with a winning relish. Shame her co-star can’t quite measure up. It’s not that Ms. Seyfield is unconvincing; it’s just that she’s simpering lines that Ellen Page would have chewed up. The Mamma Mia star is not entirely at fault; Needy is no Veronica. She’s white bread while Jennifer has her cake, eats it; and then brings it up in a bulimic purge.