In Ger(wo)many, when an army of radical females is preparing for a final revolution and a utopian world without men, a young male soldier arrives seeking refuge at the convent.
...featuring intentionally cardboard characterizations and wooden acting along side highly charged sexual images, the script is replete with references to political theory that move so quickly from the lips of the actors that I couldn't keep up.
"The Misandrists" is a lesbian hand grenade. It's a raucous clenched fist of queer feminist outrage thrown in the face of anyone who dares to give the patriarchy even the smallest bit of wiggle room.
As I've argued elsewhere recently, the film landscape feels very polite right now and maybe a blast of straight-no-chaser LaBruce is the antidote we need.
The result feels haphazard, rendering the 85-minute running time a slog, and is stuffed with bad-on-purpose lines like, "Wake up and smell the estrogen."
An invigorating alternative not just to the unending cascade of banal queer-themed fare--if nothing else, LaBruce's outlandish scenarios activate thought experiments for those pondering a corrective to our present gynophobic kakistocracy.
