DIRECTOR: Mitchell LichtensteinSTARRING: Jess Weixler, John Hensley
In spite of my feminist tendencies I bear no ill will toward the male sex. Most of the time I like them just fine. That being said, however, Teeth has got to be one of the most satisfying — albeit disgusting — pieces of filmmaking I’ve seen in recent memory. What that says about me, I don’t know, but we can overlook that for now.
Teeth tells the story of Dawn O’Keefe (Weixler), the embodiment of every parent’s dream: she’s sweet, pretty, and an advocate for her school’s abstinence group. But even as she proudly wears her promise ring, Dawn’s budding sexuality is beginning to overshadow everything she clings to — that is, a deep fear of her body and womanhood. To make matters worse, her waste-of-space stepbrother Brad (Hensley) is harboring a lifelong “love” for her, and every teenage boy (or man, for that matter) she comes into contact with seems to want a sweet little piece of her. It isn’t until she discovers a secret weapon between her legs that Dawn begins to understand that she may have the upper hand.
This is a film that probably pissed a lot of men off. I can just imagine guys sitting in the theatre, shrinking down in their seats and clinging to their junk as they witness the images on the screen. That aspect is what made this so good: guts. I haven’t seen many films that are so daring to go to that edge where people could only be disgusted, only be uncomfortable. We aren’t supposed to talk about female sexuality or vengeance, unless it’s in a familiar context. Teeth, however, hits them right where it hurts. You can guess where exactly.
In addition to its statement about violence against women, Teeth’s strength and genuineness (I guess you could say) lies in its understanding of where that violence stems from. There is a brilliant scene where Dawn sits through a sex ed class, first learning in detail about the penis from a diagram in her textbook; when she turns her page, however, there is a big sticker covering the vagina diagram and the teacher can’t even say the word. We are taught that women are scary, and fear can only breed violence and disrespect. The film, of course, takes it to the extreme by saying that yes, we are scary—imagine what we’re packing in there!
I applaud this film. Heavily. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.
FINAL GRADE: A-
In spite of my feminist tendencies I bear no ill will toward the male sex. Most of the time I like them just fine. That being said, however, Teeth has got to be one of the most satisfying — albeit disgusting — pieces of filmmaking I’ve seen in recent memory. What that says about me, I don’t know, but we can overlook that for now.
Teeth tells the story of Dawn O’Keefe (Weixler), the embodiment of every parent’s dream: she’s sweet, pretty, and an advocate for her school’s abstinence group. But even as she proudly wears her promise ring, Dawn’s budding sexuality is beginning to overshadow everything she clings to — that is, a deep fear of her body and womanhood. To make matters worse, her waste-of-space stepbrother Brad (Hensley) is harboring a lifelong “love” for her, and every teenage boy (or man, for that matter) she comes into contact with seems to want a sweet little piece of her. It isn’t until she discovers a secret weapon between her legs that Dawn begins to understand that she may have the upper hand.
This is a film that probably pissed a lot of men off. I can just imagine guys sitting in the theatre, shrinking down in their seats and clinging to their junk as they witness the images on the screen. That aspect is what made this so good: guts. I haven’t seen many films that are so daring to go to that edge where people could only be disgusted, only be uncomfortable. We aren’t supposed to talk about female sexuality or vengeance, unless it’s in a familiar context. Teeth, however, hits them right where it hurts. You can guess where exactly.
In addition to its statement about violence against women, Teeth’s strength and genuineness (I guess you could say) lies in its understanding of where that violence stems from. There is a brilliant scene where Dawn sits through a sex ed class, first learning in detail about the penis from a diagram in her textbook; when she turns her page, however, there is a big sticker covering the vagina diagram and the teacher can’t even say the word. We are taught that women are scary, and fear can only breed violence and disrespect. The film, of course, takes it to the extreme by saying that yes, we are scary—imagine what we’re packing in there!
I applaud this film. Heavily. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.
FINAL GRADE: A-
