American cinema’s ongoing obsession with female sex organs and what goes in and is pushed out of them continues with this vapid vagina monologue written and directed by Mitchell Lichtenstein (son of Roy and best known for his role as the boyfriend in Ang Lee’s The Wedding Banquet). Dawn (Weixler), an impassioned spokeswoman for her local teenage-abstinence movement, learns that her vajayjay has choppers. A trail of bloody sausages is left in her wake—a gag that’s funny for about as long as the jokes about Lorena Bobbitt were in 1993.
“There’s something inside me that’s lethal,” Dawn tells a group of sex-spurning teens. Lichtenstein assumes the role of profeminist provocateur, but his satire is so lazy (how many shots of nuclear towers spewing black smoke are needed?) that any attempt to say something intelligent about the power of adolescent-girl sexuality simply goes down the hole. In the closing credits, special thanks is given to Camille Paglia, in whose university classroom Lichtenstein first heard about the vagina dentata. Even though she’s a cultural theorist and not a director—and frequently a crackpot—Paglia’s monograph on The Birds and her deft analysis of the wrath of Mother Nature suggests that she might have been a better helmer.
Cast and crew