"The OH in Ohio"
Not for the first time in her career, the estimable and daring Posey Parker ventures into territory a nice girl ought not to. In this case, it's a comedy that ignores all the raunch aspects of basing it on a central orifice of the female body and its lack of cooperation in providing the ultimate satisfaction of the big act. Would that it were as funny as all that, but comedy is no stranger to stretching a point.
Priscilla Chase's (Posey) inability to reach sexual climax with her husband Jack (Paul Rudd) provides the subject and its instruments for a full exploration. It may be to the point of fatigue and exhaustion, but from the little miss's discovery of the vibrator after ten failed years in the connubial bedroom, and the addiction that follows, into experimentation with a more than willing lesbian, nothing is quite funny enough to compensate for the shakiness of the subject matter.
Equalling everything else in awkward low humor, is our obsessed heroin's attendance at a masturbation "class" run by an instructor (Liza Minnelli) who thinks she can choreograph her girls' holdbacks into howling pleasure.
Meanwhile, hubby Jack, a professor, is getting wound up with a dangerously perceptive student who is a mastermind of professorial needs, with all the equipment and hormonal antidotes to provide a cure. Jack is living a dream with this teenage vixen, thinking he has entered paradise for all time, until her militaristic dad praises Jack and spoils everything.
By the time he starts hankering for Priscilla again, she's gotten involved with the pool guy, that female hunk woman arouser, Wayne, the pool guy (Danny DeVito), which is a sign of where this film is willing to go for a laugh. (Not that DeVito doesn't turn in a vigorous attempt to make something funny and credible out of the concept of his casting).
At least one casting says it all. Mystery girl Heather Graham who throws herself into the role of an extremely generous and charitable lesbian toy shop owner goes uncredited. One may assume, as I do, by choice. Whatever the case, she illuminates the screen and makes you wish for more. It's also to Posey's great credit to take what she can get from this beauty without seeing it as competitive.
Posey's unique talent awaits better material. Rudd is cute, baleful and appealing. Barton is jail-bait delicious and fuming--as the picture above amply shows. (Am I wrong, guys?) Minnelli is cartoonish. Keith David as coach barely serves a purpose. Despite a few carps, it's a first rate ensemble that gets it past the censors, but not to a beachhead on the mainstream. It's not the cast that's the problem.
It smacks of a guy's first screenplay (Adam Wierzbianski) which might have been written during his sophomore year and been sitting on the shelf for a decade afterward looking to get made. That is not how it happened.
First-time director Billy Kent put the story together with collaborator Sarah Bird and is Wierzbianski's collaborator in the development of the screenplay. This is his first time out in feature direction and he did his best with a class set of actors, reached too far for many a gag, tried to make a few ill-conceived moments work and, really, didn't quite make it a number of times. He ends up with the kind of cheese that high schoolers and college juniors are going to take to like hard rock and video games.