Though reviews often describe films or music as having some form of “bite,” rest assured that you’ve never before encountered a movie with the same bite as Mitchell Lichtenstein’s Teeth.

The film puts a dark comedic spin on the ancient myth of Vagina Dentata, men’s primal fear of women. Translated from Latin, it literally means “toothed vagina.” Guys, this movie is as terrifying as you might imagine.

The film largely focuses on the appropriately named Dawn O’Keefe–an abstinence-touting teen who wouldn’t be out of place as a minor character in teen favorites like Clueless or Mean Girls. Dawn appears cute and unassuming, but she’s also resilient, for hers is not an easy life. Daily, she navigates the depraved waters of high school, only to return home to a scumbag stepbrother and a terminally ill mother.

However, her sexual naivete and tragically off-kilter home life aren’t the only things that set her apart from her peers.

In the same way the animal kingdom develops certain oddities unique to each species, Dawn discovers she too has a unique feature. Once this very specific, very lethal adaptation appears, Dawn’s squeaky-clean image turns into an unspeakably warped feminist tale of revenge. She learns to take full advantage of this–um, quirk–and uses it to protect herself (and do some things that you simply cannot print in a daily newspaper).

With Teeth, director Lichtenstein has created a surprisingly successful patchwork- quilt of a film. Equal parts slasher, ’50s sci-fi, teen romp and razor-sharp social commentary, the film has its tongue planted firmly in cheek. This Kill Bill-meets-Judd Apatow pastiche is whip-smart and fully in control. It’s not the super-camp of Snakes on a Plane, but there are constant laughs–when you aren’t cringing in agony.

And don’t think for a second you’ll leave the

theater without a gross-out. Or 10. The film is loaded with gag-shots, laughably dramatic music and at least a half-dozen shock scenes that will be burned into your retina.

John Waters would be proud.