Virgin Machine

Journalist Dorothee (doe-eyed Blum) pedals around Hamburg in print dresses and heavy eye make-up. She's writing a book about romantic love, fuel for which are two doomed relationships. She visits the zoo and a hormone specialist, but it isn't until she hears an American feminist speak about reclaiming porn that she decides to head for California in pursuit of her runaway mother and her undiscovered libido. The San Francisco conjured up by director Treut is charged with sexuality, from the purring sex-line ads on TV to the SM shenanigans of Dorothee's plump neighbour. Soon Dorothee is belting around SF on her bike, in flat cap and britches, but still with the eye-make-up, and though her quest for love continues she has at least made some very special friends, and has gained an entry into the fabulous dyke scene.