Sunday, February 14, 2010

It's the next step in female evolution, and it's got some teeth!

Today I watched Teeth, an indie horror comedy written and directed by Roy Lichtenstein's son, and I liked it so much that I just had to order a copy of my very own as soon as the credits started to roll. The main character is a girl named Dawn who grew up in a house that had a huge nuclear power plant behind it. When she was little and was persuaded by her older step brother to show him hers after having shown her his own, the twisted little pervert got a weird looking cut on his finger. Now she's a fully grown teenager (and a deliciously appealing one at that, despite or perhaps as a result of her being played by an actress in her mid-twenties) and I guess she's really into that whole crazy Jebus thing, because she belongs to a freaky yet rapidly growing cult of young people who wear these little red rings around their fingers as a symbol that they're not going to pork anyone (not even themselves!) until they get hitched. Not only does she wear the ring and attends their boring, endless meetings, she actually acts as one of their head speakers, preaching young ladies to keep their legs together and young men to keep their disgusting little thingies in their pants, but we all know the real reason why she won't let anyone get anywhere near her fragrant little panties. One day she's introduced to a "cute" boy by her ring bearing friends, a clean looking fellow who is a born-again virgin, and what passes for love these days starts blooming between the two. However, we all know what teenage douches who appear to be all nice and sweet are really like on the inside, especially ones who make promises to pretty girls about staying "pure" all the way, and when the dick finally tries to rape precious little Dawn in some creepy cave he receives a rather nasty surprise in the form of what the ancients called vagina dentata, which leads our heroine on a painful yet entertaining journey of self discovery and graphic male mutilation. OMG, what an awesome, awesome movie! Everything about this delightfully creepy little film is absolutely spot on. Jess Weixler is just terrific as sweet and innocent and terrified Dawn, and I do believe she owns one of the cutest sets of breasts I've ever seen in a movie with a script. The others do a pretty good job too, including that Michael Jackson look-alike from Nip/Tuck as Dawn's loser step brother and the various other dudes who try to weasel their way into her most private inner sanctum. We never get to actually see what it is that's going on exactly between Dawn's knees, but there's plenty of gore in here to keep any sicko satisfied, with most of it involving dismembered male members, except one guy who gets all his fingers chopped off after performing one of the creepiest onscreen medical examination I've ever seen. It's quite possible that such a deep manual probing is perfectly normal in your average gynecologist's office, but I found it extremely disturbing, if not in a completely unpleasant way. Then again, I've never had to get my own vagina examined by a stranger, so what the heck do I know. I kept waiting for someone to lose the tip of their tongue and never really got my wish fulfilled, but when the moment did come, sort of, kind of, almost but not quite, it was the most perfect movie moment I could have asked for. The world could really use a lot more films like this one, films that are clever and touching and beautifully disgusting as only a good indie horror comedy can be. Are they ever going to release May on Blu-ray?

Nice areolas, Jess Weixler!

As if women weren't scary enough, now we have to worry about toothy vaginas! Well, not me personally, but you know. I guess it does make a lot of sense as an evolutionary step, because the current design of the human female genitalia is ridiculously unprotected. I know there would be a whole lot of dickless assholes out there if only Jebus' dad had bothered to equip little girls and boys with toothy poop chutes. Hmm. Toothy poop chutes. The Toothy Poop Chutes. That's a pretty good name for a band, isn't it? As soon as I start one I'm going to be a Toothy Poop Chute, and damn proud of it too!

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