Review: ‘Sorority Boys’ is a barrel of crude

Geoff Carter

Friday, March 22, 2002 | 9:12 a.m.

Grade: No stars

Starring: Barry Watson, Harland Williams, Michael Rosenbaum and Heather Matarazzo.

Screenplay: Joe Jarvis and Greg Coolidge.

Director: Wallace Wolodarsky.

Rated: R for crude sexual content, nudity, strong language and some drug use.

Running time: 94 minutes.

Movie times: http://www.vegas.com/movies/

"Sorority Boys" insults the human race. It insults the rich, the poor, the obese, the tall and guys named "Johnson." It is sexist, homophobic, cruel and irresponsible. It's about as funny as a mugging, and less welcome.

Every character in the film is an idiot. Three idiots (Barry Watson, Harland Williams and Michael Rosenbaum) are thrown out of their fraternity for allegedly stealing the house's money, which should have been in a bank but instead was in a safe that everybody and their brother could easily open. They get into drag for the most flimsy of reasons and end up in a sorority, where not a single woman can recognize three ugly men in drag.

And it's nothing but a picnic from that point forward. The idiots stay in the sorority longer than they have to; the sorority women live up to the worst ethnic and gender stereotypes (I particularly enjoyed the French girl with hairy armpits and mustache); the fraternity date-rapes and humiliates every woman who dares to enter.

Oh, and there's a touch football game, with wet T-shirts. And a catapult that hurls sex toys. And the ever-popular tampon humor -- lotsa laughs!

I just can't figure how or why it was made. Did the writers and director all date and get dumped by the same woman? Was there crack cocaine involved? Didn't anyone -- from the studio executives to "Welcome to the Dollhouse" star Heather Matarazzo, who you would think would have an eye for a decent script -- try to raise a red flag? Or set the production office on fire?

"Sorority Boys" is, I hope, the worst film I'll see this year. The only reason I didn't walk out was because I was afflicted with some sort of dumbstruck paralysis, and because I just had to know how far the filmmakers intended to shove our heads up the plumbing. You're better off dunking your own head in the toilet, instead of paying someone else to do it. I will now weep for us all.