Sex
“American Pie”
He's gotta have it in this male-masturbation comedy, but the still unreleased "Coming Soon" shows that girls need their fun, too.
They say you never forget your first time. But does that still hold true if
your first time is with a freshly baked dessert?
In “American Pie,” there’s just no substitute for the real thing — though that doesn’t stop anyone
from improvising. As the film opens, a closely knit group of high school seniors are so
fearful of graduating with the stigma of virginity that they make a
pact to get the deed done by any means necessary. In the meantime, however,
the boys get a little antsy waiting for that one special, life-changing
place to put their penises. So while the boys look for Ms. Right — or Ms. Right Now –
their dicks find themselves in all sorts of unseemly venues: mouths, socks and, yes, even foodstuffs.
As the story progresses, the pack’s odyssey from sexual indignity to site-specific sweet
release veers from genuinely funny to totally inane to downright offensive and back again.
That the buzz surrounding “American Pie” has been so big probably
says less about the strength of the story than it does about today’s movie audiences’ increased
appetite for gross-out humor (the total number of movies this summer featuring inadvertent body fluid consumption is now
two — and it’s only early July). Like a number of other comedies out
there now, “American Pie” features what are fast becoming the hallmarks of the
yuk/yucks feature — ejaculation, diarrhea, vomit, masturbation, loss of
bladder control, the spit or swallow conundrum and a whole lot of other
stuff I’m probably forgetting. Some of it does manage to be quite
funny; some of it just lies there, all by itself, without even trying to
wrap itself around a joke. I’d appreciate toilet humor more if it weren’t so often so
unimaginative. (That’s why I suspect the hair gel bit in
href=http://www.salon.com/ent/movies/reviews/1998/07/cov_17review.html>“There’s Something About Mary” was so memorable — we’d never seen a spunk joke quite
like that before.) When I see a guy peeing in his pants, I just
think, guy peeing in his pants. But do something interesting with it and hey,
I’d be right there with you.
Despite its heavy focus on bodily functions and its central theme of trying to
get laaaaaiiiid, it’s interesting to note that the version of “American Pie”
now opening did manage to snag an R rating from the MPAA. Especially when you consider that
another teen comedy, “Coming Soon,”
won’t in fact be coming soon to theaters, due to an initial NC-17 rating. (The film is now rated R.) Like
“American Pie,” Colette Burson’s “Coming Soon” focuses on a group of high school students
desperate to get some sat-is-faction. The striking difference? “Coming Soon”
is about a trio of girls — all of whom are already sexually active, but none
of whom has ever had an orgasm. Seems the folks who dole out the ratings had
a little problem with a scene in which one of the characters is shown
discovering alternate uses for the Jacuzzi jet stream — a scene chastely
shot from the girl’s bathing suit-clad shoulders up.
The lack of nudity or big ew scenes in “Coming Soon” doesn’t make it a superior film, any more than
the generous sprinklings of both make “American Pie” a bad one. They’re two
very different stories that happen to focus on the same subject:
adolescent sexuality. The former takes place at a posh Manhattan prep school and
features Spalding Gray making Sarah Lawrence jokes; the latter is set at a less tony Midwestern
establishment and has Jason Biggs getting caught furtively wanking to the scrambled signal of
the porn channel. But it makes you wonder why one will no doubt attract an
enormous teen audience this summer, while the other is currently languishing
without distribution.
Ultimately, the two films arrive at the same conclusion — that
even now, in the information age, it’s still different for girls. The
heroines of “Coming Soon” either wait for partners to fulfill them or
stumble upon satisfaction purely by accident; at one point a character
scoffs at the notion of masturbation as “pathetic.” In “American Pie,” one
overheated female exchange student stumbles on some dirty
magazines and finds her fingers “going south,” and another student confesses to
creative uses for her musical instrument,
but in both cases, the girls’ adventures seem more like an excuse to titillate
the boys than to do anything for themselves. The more central female
characters — the nice girls — are noticeably more out
of touch with their sexuality. The unfortunately under-used Natasha Lyonne (who
managed to have a moment with a vibrator in
href=http://www.salon.com/ent/movies/reviews/1998/08/28reviewb.html>“Slums
of Beverly Hills” and avoid an NC-17) acts worldly, but never hooks up
with anyone romantically. Heather (Meana Suvari) is a shy, virginal choir
girl and Vicky (Tara Reid) is an “I’ll do anything but”-type who’s never “double
clicked her own mouse” and won’t go all the way with her boyfriend till he
tells her he loves her.
But the surprise of “American Pie” is that it turns out to be not just another examination
of good girls and the piggish boys who want to get into their pants. The male
characters here actually evolve into something more than mere slaves to their
priapism. With his roles in
href="/ent/movies/review/1999/04/28/election_review/index.html">“Election” and now here as lacrosse star turned love-struck glee
club singer Oz, Chris Klein is well on his way to becoming the most
appealingly goofy new male star since Keanu Reeves whoa-ed his way through
the “Bill and Ted” movies a decade ago. He plays a jock who says he
wants to score, but secretly he longs to croon James Taylor covers and cuddle.
Co-star Eddie Kaye Thomas deftly plays an uptight but suave terminal nerd whose
route to deflowerment includes spreading wild lies about his penis size and
ass-kicking prowess. And at the Phillip Rothian heart of the film is Jim
(Jason Biggs), a porn-loving, shaft-stroking, pie-defiling walking id whose
devotion to his urges is so pure and single-minded, you’ve got to admire the
guy. As his trying desperately to be open-minded dad, Eugene Levy may be the
first grownup in a teen sex comedy to supply his son with educational
materials from the
Larry Flynt empire. In other words, he’s entertaining as only a
refreshingly original character can be.
As the group’s members go through their respective rites of passage, some
blissfully, others with a few snags and technical difficulties, the guys
begin to realize what adults know all too well — that sex really isn’t
everything.
Judging from “Coming Soon” and “American Pie,” we may still be a long
way from accepting the possibility that girls might actually enjoy flying solo. But in
the meantime there’s something weirdly and humanely comforting about the
films’ converse messages — that no matter what crazy, confusing, sometimes
humiliating trials you have to go through to have it happen, sex is just one
of those things that’s plain better when you’ve got a partner. In the end,
for all of “American Pie’s” raunchy, “Porky’s”-style voyeurism and body
fluid humor, its heart turns out to be downright romantic. It might not put
Sara Lee out of business, but it’s encouraging to know she’s still got
competition.
Mary Elizabeth Williams is a staff writer for Salon and the author of "Gimme Shelter: My Three Years Searching for the American Dream." Follow her on Twitter: @embeedub. More Mary Elizabeth Williams.
Massage therapists rubbed wrong by sex talk
A Jennifer Love Hewitt show and the Travolta allegations have masseuses tired of being confused for sex workers
(Credit: iStockphoto/sybanto) Joe, a licensed massage therapist, knows what it’s like having a famous client who expects something extra. He had an Academy Award-winning actor begin gyrating on his massage table before raising his hips in the air to show off his erection. “He was hoping that I would play with him in some shape or form,” he says.
Needless to say, Joe isn’t surprised by allegations by two masseurs that John Travolta got handsy during massages. (Travolta’s attorney has denied all the allegations, and called them “ridiculous.”) “It happens all the time,” he says, and not just with celebrity clients. He frequently encounters men who try to fondle him, usually while he’s working on their glutes or lower back and their hand happens to be level with his crotch. “They think they’re so original, but they’re all so much the same,” Joe says, his voice rising. “They all use the same tactics, the same body movements, the same gyrations and grinding my table, the [heavy] breathing.”
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
A night at the vibrator museum
Early vibrators were hand-cranked, two-person jobs -- and prescribed by doctors. How far we've come since then
(Credit: Antique Vibrator Museum) I can now say that I’ve used a turn-of-the-century vibrator — on my hand, but still.
The silver, hand-cranked contraption is usually kept behind glass at Good Vibrations’ Antique Vibrator Museum in San Francisco — but staff sexologist Carol Queen made a rare exception. “This is very special,” she whispered, unlocking the case and carefully pulling out Dr. Johansen’s Auto Vibrator, a relic from 1904. The “auto” part is not so much: It was a two-person job, with her having to crank the device’s handle to get it thrumming. Pressing my finger tips to its inch-wide circular platform of pleasure, I was pleasantly surprised by its power.
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
Maggie Gyllenhaal on sexual liberation
The beloved indie star tells Salon about her "vibrator movie" and why she loves playing transgressive women
Maggie Gyllenhaal (Credit: Reuters/Mark Blinch) When I met Maggie Gyllenhaal about six weeks ago, she was enormously and gloriously pregnant, stretching out on a sofa with her shoes off and feet up in a Manhattan office building. (Since that time, Gyllenhaal and husband Peter Sarsgaard have welcomed their second daughter, Gloria Ray, to the world.) We were there to talk about “Hysteria,” the charming, lightweight feminist farce from director Tanya Wexler that explores a key event in the history of female sexuality: the invention of the vibrator by Mortimer Granville, a Victorian doctor who was seeking to cure the mysterious “female malady” that lends the movie its title.
Continue Reading CloseMother-daughter sexperts
Susie Bright and her daughter, Aretha, make parental talks about sex look easy -- and fun
Most parents loathe talking to their kids about the birds and the bees, let alone pubic hair grooming, faked orgasms and “water sports” — but most parents are not legendary “sexpert” Susie Bright.
Better than talking about these things, she penned an advice column in 2009 with her daughter, Aretha, then 19, for the ladyblog Jezebel. Their answers to questions about everything from porn to Paxil were unflinching but playful, and at times controversial. Now the pair have collected those columns into a new e-book, “Mother/Daughter Sex Advice.” Together, they read as an irreverent version of “Our Bodies, Ourselves” for the Internet age. The mother-daughter team also reflect on what the experience of writing the column was like, and it turns out it wasn’t as weird as many would think: For the most part, it was just a continuation of conversations they had been having throughout Aretha’s life.
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
On the rack: A cultural history of breasts
Did breasts evolve for lactation or to enhance sex appeal? A new book explores why they matter
(Credit: iStockphoto/NadyaPhoto) It’s hard to be boobs. Sure, breasts are cherished as givers of milk and the pinnacle of sex appeal, but the modern world hasn’t been good to mammaries.
As Florence Williams writes in “Breasts: A Natural and Unnatural History,” they’re the most tumor-prone organ in the human body. They “soak up pollution like a pair of soft sponges,” and transmit environmental toxins to babies through breast milk. “Breasts are bellwethers for the changing health of people,” she says. While we’ve “genetically modified our crops to be able to protect them from the ill effects of pesticides,” Williams writes, “we haven’t yet figured out how to modify our breasts.” Aside from using saline and silicone, of course.
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
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