In 1992 17-year-old Amy Fisher, teen queen and call girl, shot the wife of Joey Buttafuoco, her alleged lover and alleged pimp, prompting all three American television networks to make movies about her, offering JFK-style versions of what actually happened without ever settling on who to believe.
This expends its bile not on sleazy characters mixed up in sordid crime but on the vulture-like news media who descend upon the story to milk its prurience factor. Drew Barrymore is a pouting Amy, but any opportunity to do a hatchet job on the turning of criminals into talk-show celebs is hamstrung by the conventions of the made-for-TV true crime quickie.