Pretentious, pseudo-intellectual, pre-frontal foreplay without substance or passion. Wooden acting by all except, Robin Tunney, who displayed unusual adeptness for her characters' misunderstood, Zoe. Neve Campbell wasted here as a rather prim and prudish, librarian type and Dermot Melroney as the rather starched, disillusioned and distant group discussion leader. It was to be a critical expose on the fragility of the Male orgasm and all its unreasonable expectations. It missed. It made men out to bestial, carnivorous, exploratory and very misinformed about women's bodies. On that note it was right on the mark. But from the very nature of the questions asked in the film it was obvious that the filmmaker was only expressing his limited scope and hoping to get a generous amount of love and money for his attempts at honesty apparently since he could not get a date.
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