0
0
Dawn (Jess Weixler) has discovered something unique about her body. She’s entering a phase of adulthood where the body starts to change and initially rebel. With her hormones working overtime (coupled with all those sexually aware images so pervasive in society), poor Dawn becomes conflicted about her burgeoning sexuality. To make matters worse, Dawn is also a member of a group of teenagers who preach (with cultish fervor) the idea of sexual abstinence until marriage. However, feelings are aroused when Dawn meets Toby (Hale Appleman), who’s also a member of the group. As their feelings grow, so do their urges to take the relationship to the next level. When Toby decides he cannot wait anymore, he attempts to force himself on our heroine, only to discover (in a graphic moment of the leg-crossing variety) that Dawn can bite off more than she can chew.
Dawn discovers she has vagina dentata. The myth of the “vagina with teeth,” according to psychologists and folklorists, has been around in some shape or form for hundreds of years. At its most basic level, vagina dentata is the male fear of both castration and women’s sexuality, and it’s really the product of a myriad of phallocentric cultures.
What writer/director Mitchell Lichtenstein (son of famous pop artist Roy Lichtenstein) has created is the ultimate female empowerment fable for this generation. A bloody tale about sexual awakening, Teeth works on a number of metaphorical levels, and it will most likely stimulate debate long after it has ended. The young men—particularly Dawn’s sexually aggressive and apathetic burn-out of a brother, Brad (John Hensley)—come across as lecherous and driven by the brain between their legs. Not good. While the movie’s images and symbolism could have been clumsy and obvious in another’s hands, here they feel organic to the story.
Billed as a horror comedy (and there are some very funny moments; the scene in the gynecologist’s office, for example, is both disturbing and hilarious), Teeth is so much more than your standard b-horror fare. Intelligent and provocative, the movie asks more questions than it answers. Is this a movie about a woman betrayed by her sexuality or protected and empowered by it? Lichtenstein injects these questions beautifully into his narrative. And isn’t that the nature of good art—to leave us disturbed and fascinated enough to want to try and tear some meaning from its depths?
But what really works about the storytelling isn’t found in the gory moments (and again, men beware—they’re cringe worthy) or the performances (all wonderful). It’s the fact that viewers are taken on a journey. By the end, even if Dawn’s sexual odyssey is not yet complete, it does feel rounded and satisfying.
Fans of David Cronenberg (another director fascinated with deformation of anatomy) will get this movie. And now for the punny recommendation: Teeth is a minty-fresh psychosexual horror comedy that’s well worth flossing for.
