Metacritic reviews

Full of gumption, Clarkson and Guarini soldier on, seemingy unaware that the perfectly adequate singing voices that brought them to the big screen are being drowned out, on a half-dozen same-sounding songs, by an overlayered backup group.

They play cotton candy effigies of themselves named Kelly and Justin, and the best that can be said is that they don't embarrass themselves.

The most resounding thuds in From Justin to Kelly, however, come from the musical numbers.

A feather-light musical rushed into production to capitalize on American Idol-frenzy, is nothing more than an excuse to give the two leads several musical numbers, a la those Frankie Avalon-Annette Funicello "Beach Blanket Bingo" movies, and with just about the same amount of substance, too.

In this frothy beach movie, they make pop-music lite together but create an utterly unconvincing romantic couple, seeming more like siblings or best friends. From Ruben to Clay might work better.

Arguably the most insipid movie released so far this century.

Aspires to be a "Beach Blanket Bingo" redux with a gangbang Grease finale, but it plays like junior high Neil LaBute filmed by an elementary school AV squad.

Just one of those films, a bottomless well of snark fodder that may come and go in theatres but will surely be spun innumerable times on DVD at parties in the years to come.

More than anything, From Justin To Kelly needs Simon Cowell, the fork-tongued Idol judge who gives the show its only sliver of tension.

More than awful, more than dreadful, and easily the worst beach movie ever made.