Teeth (2008)

Teeth is one of those rare horror-comedies that feels like it shouldn’t work on paper and then somehow lands with wicked confidence: a sharp, gleefully uncomfortable satire that turns a lurid myth into a surprisingly pointed coming-of-age fable. Mitchell Lichtenstein keeps the tone pitched between deadpan humor and genuine creepiness, letting the absurdity draw laughs while the tension stays real enough to make you squirm. Jess Weixler is terrific at the center, playing Dawn with a mix of innocence, confusion, and dawning self-possession that makes the movie more than just a one-joke shocker. It’s not for the squeamish—this is very much an R-rated, body-horror ride—but if you like your genre films smart, original, and a little bit feral, it’s a bold crowd-pleaser in the strangest possible way.

Teeth is trying to be a sharp, feminist-leaning horror-comedy that turns sexual violence and purity culture into a literal monster metaphor, and when it lands, it’s audacious and darkly funny in a way few films even attempt. The problem is it’s wildly uneven: the satire can feel blunt, the tone swings from goofy to genuinely upsetting, and the shock set-pieces start to feel like the whole movie’s engine rather than a means to something smarter. This is also not “naughty fun” horror—there are disturbing assault scenarios, graphic genital mutilation, and a general sense of grim discomfort that can easily overwhelm the joke. If you’re up for an aggressive midnight-movie provocation with a committed lead performance, you may admire its nerve; if you want coherent horror, consistent comedy, or anything remotely subtle, you’ll probably feel more irritated than impressed.