July 9, 1999 | You might hate yourself in the morning – in fact, you may not feel too good about yourself even while you’re watching it – but you can have a guilty-pleasure good time while wallowing in the raunchiness of American Pie. This exuberantly crass concoction obviously is the work of wild and crazy guys who studied Porky’s and other ’80s teen-sex comedies with all the enthusiastic fervor that neophyte filmmakers more commonly bring to their perusal of movies by Martin Scorsese or Orson Welles.
But wait, there’s more: Director Paul Weitz and screenwriter Adam Herz obviously sought inspiration in more contemporary comedies, as well. Not to be outdone by There’s Something About Mary, they offer their own gross-out gag about precious bodily fluids, then up the ante by plumbing new depths of tastelessness in their tireless pursuit of cheap laughs. How low do they go? Consider this: The title has nothing to do with the baby-boomer anthem written and sung by Don McLean, and everything to do with a randy teenager who discovers that nothin’ says lovin’ like somethin’ from the oven.
Much like so many teen-sex farces of the Reagan Era, American Pie is a movie single-mindedly concerned with the misadventures of horny high-school guys who will do almost anything to lose their virginity. The big difference here is, the high-school girls are only slightly less obsessed with sex. Natasha Lyonne of Slums of Beverly Hills (as the most “experienced” girl at East Great Falls High School) and Alyson Hannigan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (as a talkaholic band member who isn’t as dim or demure as she seems) advance the cause of gender equality by being just as blunt-spoken as their male co-stars.
Weitz and Herz devote most of their attention to four ordinary guys – neither exceptionally cool nor off-puttingly nerdish — who resolve to become ex-virgins during the final weeks before their senior prom. Of the quartet, Kevin (Thomas Ian Nicholas) initially appears most likely to score, since he already has gotten to second base with Vicky (Tara Reid), his bright and beautiful girlfriend. She’s willing to do for him what a notorious White House intern did for her favorite Commander-in-Chief. And he is equally willing to return the favor – after studying a how-to guide for step-by-instructions. But Vicky is reluctant to go all the way, and Kevin is even more reluctant to say, “I love you.”
Jim (Jason Biggs) likely would say or do anything to end his innocence. In fact, when he somehow manages to lure an alluring Czech exchange student (Shannon Elizabeth) into his bedroom, he eagerly agrees to perform a prolonged striptease as part of the foreplay. Unfortunately, he gets carried away, and fails to cover the mini-camera that enables his friends – and just about all of their classmates – to view his antics over the Internet. Even more unfortunately, the foreign affair ends even before it begins.
(As Jim’s imperturbable father, who tries to encourage his son with explicit photos and nonjudgmental advice, Eugene Levy works very hard at being a good sport. Still, there’s something positively creepy about the character – he’s a bit too eager to be helpful. I found myself reminded of the maladjusted father in Todd Solondz’s Happiness who took a far less innocent interest in his son’s sexual development.)
Oz (Chris Klein), a likable jock, tries to score by scoping out possibilities in the school choir. He does such a good job of pretending to be a warm and sensitive guy that Heather (Mena Suvari), a sweetly virginal vocalist, falls for his act. The longer they know each other, however, the more Oz becomes – boy, here’s a big surprise! — a really warm and sensitive guy.
The odd man out in the foursome is Finch (Eddie Kaye Thomas), a slightly built hipster who’s brainy enough to crack wise in Latin. (He also drinks enough to suggest a budding substance-abuse problem, though it’s not entirely clear whether Weitz and Herz expect us to interpret his behavior that way.) Hoping to overcome his quasi-loser reputation, he spreads rumors of his studly prowess. In the end, however, he must rely on the benevolence of someone older — though not necessarily wiser — to end his high school days with a bang.
No doubt about it: American Pie is utterly shameless and, at its frequent best, uproariously funny. Much of the humor springs from high-voltage shocks of recognition. (If you’ve ever been young and horny, you’ll understand.) But the biggest laughs are generated by the utter fearlessness of the four young leads. Repeatedly, and hilariously, they earn high marks for their willingness to make perfect fools of themselves.
It’s worth noting, however, that American Pie is something of a sheep in wolf’s clothing. Weitz and Herz inject a generous dose of date-movie sweetness into the salaciousness, so that two of the teens truly do fall in love, and another couple recognizes the bittersweet evanescence of high-school romances. There’s also a surprisingly rigid moral code at play here: No guy who tries to trick a girl into bed ever succeeds, and the only one who pretends to score is publicly humiliated for his sins. Granted, we’ve come a long way from cautionary teen-dream fantasies like A Summer Place (1959), in which sex before marriage instantly leads to unplanned pregnancy. But, then again, maybe we haven’t come as far as we might think.
