Amy

Expanding on her applauded 1998 debut I Love You, Don't Touch Me, writer-director, producer-actress Julie Davis crossbreeds the neurotic babbling of a pre-Soon Yi Woody Allen with Sex and the City's candid sex conversations and manages to surface with some insightful commentaries on the ongoing gender wars. Her latest film's narrative may be looser than baby teeth, but Amy's Orgasm is such a verbosely in-depth exploration of female sensuality and identity (through repressed intimacy, of course), that the hyper-talky pace, barely giving audiences a moments rest, is forgiven on account of its sheer energy, which admittedly loses steam when characters constantly ramble about the same topics.

Maintaining an emotionally and physically fulfilling relationship with men is a problem Amy Mandell (Davis) knows too well…her and millions of other male-frustrated women. So as a means of venting those frustrations, she wrote an extremely successful self-help book that's championed by adoring fans sporting "Down With Relationships" t-shirts. Often talking directly to the camera, Annie Hall-style, Amy fears her credentials for writing about the hardships of love and the one-track minds of men may be unjustified since she herself never experienced love. Her doubt isn't helped by the numerous talk shows she's grilled on while promoting the book.

Disregarding her own advice, Amy begins dating a Howard Stern-like DJ (Nick Chinlund) who, after going for silicone-chested bimbos his whole life, is smitten by our protagonist's uncommon combination of attractiveness and whip-smarts. This unlikely relationship with a known male chauvinist opens the door for fans to declare Amy a hypocrite, but will she listen and go back to her celibate ways or give romance a chance?

While her sense of comedy is in-tune, Davis, who comes off as the Chris Rock of feminism, often overuses the same gags to the point we wonder why they were ever funny; such as sexual fantasies occurring while Amy is in board meetings or on dates. Davis' voice is still fresh, and her narration stays that way throughout, but cramming so many characters and opinions into an 85-minute running time may leave conservative viewers a bit dizzy. And with priests who swear as if cursing came naturally, her edginess feels forced.

Told in chapters, assumedly from Amy's book (that has headlines like "Sex is the Outgrowth of Love", and "Sex is the End of Romance"), the film lacks focus. But it's difficult holding this grudge against Davis who admirably juggles writing, directing, and acting responsibilities. Her second feature results in many laughs, but, for an independent film, is as enjoyably disposable as studio fares like Austin Powers in Goldmember. -Shaun Sages

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