1998; Rated R; 82 Minutes
Troy Beyer: Jazz
Paget Brewster: Michelle
Randy Ingerman: Lena
Joseph C. Phillips: Michael
Michaline Babich: Morgan
Tina Nguyen: Drew
Produced by Susan
Ainsworth, Sara King, Deborah Ridpath and Gary Sales; Directed
and screenwritten by Troy Beyer
by DAVID KEYES
Talk About Sex" is the worst movie of 1998. It is the worst
movie of the decade. It is the worst movie ever. There will
not be a film as bad as it this year. There will not be
a film as bad as it in the next five years. There will likely
not be a film worse than it in the next half century.
not humanly possible. It's one of those events, like an
eclipse, that only occurs once each century. I imagine that
we will get even worse films eventually, but probably not
during my lifetime. If there are any more during my career
as a film critic, I shall consider retirement.
Beyer's "Let's Talk About Sex" is so horrid and so morally
reprehensible that it's unbelievable. It could not make
women and men look more ridiculous even if the plot had
dressed them up in diapers and clown makeup. Never before
has such crude and offensive material been laid upon human
eyes in a respectable theater. If I had the chance, I'd
lock up every person in this world who enjoyed it. Those
who will enjoy this movie are most likely mentally confused,
because judging from audience reactions, neither sane men
nor women will appreciate two seconds of it.
aliens saw the movie, they'd think the human race was some
sort of sick experiment gone horribly wrong. They'd want
to destroy us and inherit the Earth. No, really: they would.
That's how bad the movie is. It is the ultimate bad movie:
one where even humans who enjoyed "Dazed And Confused" will
not appreciate it. If this offends you, I'm sorry, but what
is a film critic supposed to do? Praise how it compares
human sexuality to the eating habits of an average American
horse with a bad cold? I think not.
I saw it opening weekend, not only was the crowd mostly
women, but mostly women who obviously knew nothing about
correctly applying their makeup. Half the women who sat
in the front had eye shadow like Marilyn Manson, and wore
clothes that would make Cher weep. And what a surprise!
Half of them were gone 40 minutes into the movie. The men
who attended (I think there were maybe six total including
myself) were all gone just fifteen minutes into it. The
women who remained were either looking for redeeming value
or a chance to see how bad it would actually get. I really
doubt that anyone in the audience found anything humane
or tasteful about it, whether it involved female or male
movie is this--an "intelligent" woman named Jazz decides,
after listening in on inaccurate "sex-talk" to start her
own radio show for sex-talk with women as the talkers, for
a change. In order to do this, however, she has to interview
people that would be able to handle all of this on live
radio. She video tapes all of this interviewing in what
has been called actual documentary footage, but I seriously
doubt that any woman would get in front of a camera and
demonstrate such contemptible and morally deficient human
characteristics. They are disgusting and rude beyond comprehension.
First, the women are asked about the men in their lives,
and always the response is insulting to them. Men, according
to the women, can never satisfy a woman properly in the
bedroom. Later on in the interviews, they are asked to demonstrate
their special talents on camera, which are so disgusting
that they make the rape scenes of "I Spit On Your Grave"
seem almost respectable.
is so disgusting that I, for the first time, actually felt
urges to get up and leave the theater. But I didn't—I stuck
it out to the very last frame, and walked away the most
angry person in the theater. Most of the others were appalled
as well, but they seemed more stunned than angry.
may not necessarily listen to film critic opinions often,
but I'm warning you down to my last breath with this one--see
it, enjoy it, and my respect for you as a human being will
decrease about 99 percent.
1998, David Keyes, Cinemaphile.org.
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