Fitness trainer Rich Johnson (Cam Gigandet) is the cock of the walk, a ladies’ man par excellence who follows wherever his phallus may lead. Of course, a lifetime of satiating your libidinous genitalia—as Huck Botko’s non-pinnacle of penile cinema informs us—will leave you depleted and depressed over your chances of finding Ms. Right. After his wandering willy implodes yet another relationship, Rich openly wishes for his manhood to leave him the hell alone. The next morning he wakes up sans schlong. Turns out his prick has become a person (Nick Thune)—a horned-up, pot-smoking putz who upends Rich’s life for worse…and for better.
Dick jokes aside, there’s plenty of rude promise in this scenario, concocted by New York magazine–profiled screenwriter and go-go dancer Jeff Tetreault, that never, uh, comes to a head. The coarse stuff is mostly at the beginning, with Thune’s character acting every bit the frat boy as he learns to love his newfound consciousness. (How does a sentient penis eat sushi? Wonder no more.) But once Rich starts romancing a lovely new client (Katherine Cunningham)—having no member is so damned liberating to the lizard brain—the film turns to treacle. Sentimental sap like The Notebook (2004) is unironically referenced, monogamous love (plus a full bottle of erectile-dysfunction meds) conquers all, and the whole sorry enterprise leaves you feeling, well, shafted.
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