There are many ways to tell if you've become a popular actress. Your name appears above the title on the poster. You're on the covers of magazines. You get an Oscar nomination. Those are all pretty great things. Then, there are those other ways of finding out that you're popular. These are a lot less fun, such as the paparazzi standing outside your house in the hope that they can snap a picture of you in your sweatpants. Today, Jennifer Lawrence has achieved another of the more dubious distinctions of the newly famous: She's starring in a crappy horror film that nobody knows what she's doing in.
House at the End of the Street is now out in theaters, and it features Lawrence as a young woman who moves to a small town with her divorced mom (Elisabeth Shue), only to fall for a cute boy (Max Thieriot) who, bummer, is the only surviving member of his family after his sister killed his parents and then drowned herself. The film's distributor, Relativity, held off screening the movie until last night, and while I haven't seen it, I trust The Hollywood Reporter's assessment of this generic-sounding horror flick, right down to its depiction of Lawrence's character: "The classic modern horror heroine, she's an independent-minded, fearless, whip-smart high-schooler who looks sizzling in a tank top." (That could have fit Elizabeth Olsen in Silent House as well. C'mon, ladies—if you're going to do battle with the forces of evil, put on a sweater.)