Teeth
Dir. Mitchell Lichtenstein
The idea of the ‘vagina dentata’ (Latin for 'toothed vagina') exists in many cultures and world mythologies, and is generally thought to stem from cautionary folk tales warning men of the consequences of rape. It is an idea very much connected to female empowerment. While various horror and rape-revenge films such as I Spit on your Grave, Last House on the Left and Ms 45 have featured avenging women castrators who defiantly make a stand against aggressive, toxic masculinity, Teeth goes one step further and explores this concept in a very literal sense. That it does so with such pitch black humour and barbed social commentary really adds to the enjoyment and effectiveness.
Dawn O’Keefe is a young woman who, like many young people in Bible-belt America, has pledged an allegiance to God to abstain from sex until she's married. Its in this context that the film has its edge, taking satirical jabs at the oppressive nature of the (largely right-wing) Fundamentalist Christian chastity-abstinence teachings.
Other scenes of social satire include a cringe-worthy discussion in a biology class about female anatomy and while the pupils themselves have no problems using the ‘v’ word (no, not vampire, the OTHER ‘v’ word) the teacher is most uncomfortable. The fact that the image of female genitalia in the text book is covered up, a practice that is actually carried out in some schools in the States, adds to the already high dosage of wry commentary and slick humour. How are young people supposed to learn about their bodies in this oppressive climate? With all this mystery and controversy and the reluctance of the establishment to be direct about basic biology and reproductive health, it is no wonder Dawn’s confusion reaches frenzied proportions. She doesn’t know if her circumstances are normal or not, and with no one to turn to she, like many teenagers, decides to face her problem and burgeoning sexuality alone and in total confusion.
Brief discussions of evolution for survival throw up contemporary anxieties such as the forced female genital mutilation that is practiced in some cultures. The idea that female genitalia is evolving as a defence mechanism hangs heavy with Cronenbergian notions of body-horror and speaks of violence committed against women by men in contemporary society.
The film is peppered with obvious and very blatant phallic and vaginal imagery: the opening pan shot of sweeping green fields and idyllic blue skies giving way to two huge nuclear power plant cooling towers, blotting the landscape and seeming so out of place: rather like Dawn’s toothy problem; something that shows up somehow and just isn’t meant to be there. The combination of comedy and gross-out horror keeps events feeling lighter than they could have been given the dark subject matter. The down-right nasty chain of events that confront Dawn point to bleak realities, but Lichtenstein’s deft direction and slyly witty screenplay aims for the humour amongst all the horror.
Dawn is surrounded by examples of aggressive, toxic masculinity, in fact aside from her bumbling step-father, every man she interacts with is predatory. This speaks of the daily harassment women face, and lays the blame with a society that balks at educating young people about sex and issues concerning consent and respect. Many of the male characters are a pretty nasty bunch: the classmate who attempts to rape Dawn; her aggressive, leering step-brother; the creepy gynecologist who administers brutal inspections without gloves; the other classmate who spikes Dawn’s drink and then rapes her for a bet.
While the conclusions of each of these encounters are clearly signposted, Lichtenstein manages to build up queasy tension offset with nervous humour. The real horror stems from how society justifies and even dismisses this despicable behaviour. Dawn is repeatedly told that 'boys will be boys.' As Dawn, Jess Weixler carries the film. Her portrayal is sincere and sympathetic. The audience shares her fear and frustration, the abject horror she feels with her own body and the anger she feels at the way young women are treated by society. It’s no secret that teens have a tough time of it. Teeth follows on from Ginger Snaps in its vivid exploration of the horrors of growing up female. While Dawn's final acceptance of her ‘gift’ may empower her, the film's final moments still suggest a bitter conclusion. Teeth is an interesting cult oddity with distinct bite.
Trivia: Mitchell Lichtenstein is the son of pop-artist Roy Lichtenstein.
