'Fitting In' Review: Molly McGlynn's Teen Traumedy Bleeds Raunchy, Raw Honesty
R: sexual content, language throughout, drug use and drinking – all involving teens.
Runtime: 1 Hour and 45 Minutes
Production Companies: Nice Picture Inc., Wondaland
Distributor: Blue Fox Entertainment
Director: Molly McGlynn
Writer: Molly McGlynn
Cast: Maddie Ziegler, Emily Hampshire, Djouliet Amara, D'Pharoah Woon-A-Tai, Ki Griffin
Release Date: February 2, 2024
Female-oriented teen sex comedies have been on the rise in recent years. Despite films like The To Do List, Booksmart, and Blockers paving the way, there’s still uncharted territory regarding the horny girlie experience. Writer/director Molly McGlynn’s semi-autobiographical sex comedy Bloody Hell highlights an under-discussed reproductive health topic with thoughtfulness and raunchiness.
Life is going well for 16-year-old Lindy (Maddie Ziegler). She and her mom Rita (Emily Hampshire), have settled into her late grandmother’s home. Lindy’s a lead athletic star in her high school’s track team. She scored a supportive best friend in Vivian (Djouliet Amara) and a sweet boyfriend, Adam (D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai), with whom she is eager to bang. Her only concern is her late menstruation development. She never has a tampon when Vivian asks for one because she’s never had a period. With her anxiety spiking, Lindy goes to a gynecologist to see what’s up with her body. She is diagnosed with MRKH Syndrome, a rare reproductive condition where the uterus is absent, meaning she can’t menstruate, bear children, or even enjoy penetrative sex. Since her gynecologist is (say it with me now) an old white man, his delivery on the news is insensitive. He sums up her syndrome as a bad abnormality. A shocked Lindy slowly begins to panic and spiral as this newfound revelation affects her relationship with everyone around her, including Rita, Adam, and Vivian.
From the cold opening of Lindy masturbating to a sex fantasy with her boyfriend in colorful femme lighting, McGlynn makes it clear that Bloody Hell is openly horny on main. There is a wide gap in gender disparity in teen sex comedies. Plots would always follow the misadventures of horny boys and their quest for cooch. It’s refreshing to see a horny girl representation where the talks between girls are explicit and hilarious due to the characters’ lack of experience. McGlynn pours raw honesty with her sharp wit and authentic lens that will work wonders for its female audience.
Talking from they/he lens, a few of the sex jokes went over my head. Thankfully, I saw this with Myan right beside me. It had her cackling more than me, especially during Lindy and Vivian’s playful horny banter discussing their virginity, doing sexual acts, etc. This talk isn’t taboo—it’s a normal and honest conversation between girls—but it did catch me off-guard due to how underrepresented this talk is in film.
McGlynn’s experience with MRKH syndrome is evident in her direction and screenplay. The story is an educational crash course to Lindy’s rare condition and a complex character piece. McGlynn bleeds raw honesty in depicting the reality of gender disparity and the difference between male and female gynecologists. Lindy’s gynecologist initially makes her diagnosis sound like a freakish abnormality that needs to be dealt with ASAP. This attitude enacts Lindy’s slow-burning disconnect from her body and reality. McGlynn displays the pain and heartbreak Lindy experiences trying to get in tune with herself, especially during the scenes with her using varying-sized dilators per her gyno’s orders. The vast disconnect between self-pleasure at the beginning of the film and the chore that masturbation becomes increases your empathy towards Lindy, who just wants to fuck like every other sexually active girl. The more disconnected she feels from her body, the more she burns everybody around her. She distances herself from her kick-ass mom, breaks things off with Adam and Vivian, and uses boys for sex. As teenage girls go, she makes rash decisions and leaps before she looks. McGlynn makes it clear where her missteps stem from.
A nuanced aspect of Lindy’s arc is the inclusion of Jax (Ki Griffin), a kind-hearted intersex non-binary person who’s an intriguing contrast to Lindy and a surprising love interest. They share sweet and earnest budding chemistry. As Lindy’s world crumbles, Jax is the only person who provides comfort. Between Bloody Hell and The Fallout, it’s nice to see Maddie Ziegler expand her queer character cinematic universe.
Maddie Ziegler is best known for her dances, especially with former collaborations with Sia. Since she started pursuing acting (and breaking away from Sia), she’s been shining brighter. Bloody Hell is a brilliant showcase of her star power when not wearing that white wig. Ziegler is astounding in her first leading feature role as she brings a nicely balanced earnestness and sincerity to Lindy. For this being Ziegler’s first comedic venture, she delivers confidence with great comic timing and a unique style. Lindy has a superficial demeanor but is also deadpan; she’s like Daria and Quinn Morgendorffer rolled into one person.
Ziegler shares great onscreen chemistry with her costars, primarily Emily Hampshire, who portrays her mom, Rita. I love the intimate dynamic they share. They’re open about sensual topics and have a best-friend connection. There’s a resonant mother-daughter subplot of Rita, a breast cancer survivor, having a challenging time on dating apps, trying to relate to Lindy.
Bloody Hell hits all the natural beats of the coming-of-age high school comedy blueprint with sincerity, but it takes a bite out of some cheese during its finale. For a raunchy comedy, this film hits a Disney Channel-type platform as Lindy preaches to her entire student body about the harmfulness of spreading gossip and her condition. The inspirational score blares in the background, McGlynn’s camera does a 360 spin around Lindy, and it’s honestly awkward. That scene asks you to suspend your disbelief for this unnecessarily bizarre moment.
Powered by a star-turning comedic performance by Maddie Ziegler, Molly McGlynn’s Bloody Hell is a hilarious, honest, and raw teen sex comedy with resounding visibility for its female demographic who share a similar rare condition as the lead.
