Can Lindsay Lohan change her luck?

A first step
Lindsay’s latest movie “Just My Luck” debuts in theaters this week, just in time for Lindsay to remind us that she really is a working actress. “Luck” is a transparent bridge project. It’s fluffy enough to attract a teen audience, but it still takes Lindsay out of high school and into the slightly more serious adult working-world. (She's cast as an “ad executive,” the stock profession for young women in romantic comedies.) The movie is likely to please Lindsay’s core fanbase, but can it win over an audience beyond teenage girls and lecherous old men? More importantly: can it restore Lindsay’s luck o’ the legitimate actress?

Based on the fact that Lindsay is lifting her sunglasses and giving a saucy wink on the movie’s poster, I’m going to say no. For Lindsay, “Just My Luck” is just a baby step forward, a tip toe towards more grown-up roles and serious projects. This sugary little movie won’t hurt, it simply won’t help. I’ll probably enjoy it on Netflix or at my next slumber party. But, honestly Lindsay,  2004 is gone and it isn’t coming back. We’re going to need some bigger guns than “Just My Luck” before you and Jodie Foster even appear in the same sentence.

That’s when my story of the young girl from Long Island, the one with the sudden bout of misfortune, gets its moment of redemption. Just when that red-headed girl stood at a critical career crossroads, she was visited by a powerful fairy godmother. That godmother was, of course, none other than Meryl Streep. Very lucky indeed. Already, Meryl is on the cover of “W” stroking Lindsay’s hair and praising her talent and professionalism in their upcoming movie, “A Prairie Home Companion.” “Prairie Home Companion”  seems poised to perform the career alchemy that “Just My Luck” can not.  If it does, it will be at least partially due to Streep’s support of Lindsay and the benefit of her inarguable Midas touch — the ability to legitimize everything in her orbit, including hard-partying teen costars. 

My advice to Lindsay would be this: Cash in the check for “Just My Luck” and don’t look back. Now, take Meryl Streep to dinner. Write her a nice thank-you card, and thank the heavens above for her endorsement. Send that woman a muffin basket. Daily. Kiss her under shooting stars, try to think the same thoughts, and hope and pray that you pick up a little of that lucky spark called "greatness." It’s not guaranteed to be contagious, but it can’t hurt.  In any case, it’s far less risky than anything you’ll catch from hanging out with that Paris Hilton.

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