Katherine Heigl plays Abby, a producer for a ratings-challenged Sacramento morning television show, the kind that specializes in empty smiles, cooking tips and weather updates. She’s single and therefore, in the moral economy of modern Hollywood, unhappy. Her life goes into a tailspin when her boss hires a professional ape, Mike (Gerard Butler), who delivers loutish maxims on camera about the sexes that basically all boil down to this: Men have penises, and women should accommodate them any which way they can, preferably in push-up bras and remote-controlled vibrating panties.
…Ms. Heigl doesn’t do perky all that persuasively, but she does keep her smile and relative dignity even in scenes in which Abby is forced to play the fool, which is often, as when she’s hanging upside down from a tree in her skivvies. She even survives the scene that finds Abby writhing spasmodically during a dinner with her corporate masters, because, well, she’s wearing those pulsating panties, the boy at the next table has the remote, and there’s nothing funnier (or, really, scarier) than the spectacle of female pleasure.
Uhh, did you catch that? I haven't seen this film or this scene, and I realize that everyone with an interest in denying sexism in all its forms goes completely apeshit and whines when a feminist dares to criticize a film before she's seen the whole thing, but the description of the scenario in the review that I put in bold just does not sit well with me. Because, except in the extremely unlikely event that Heigl's character donned these vibrating panties, specifically gave the remote to the guy controlling them and said, "Please use this remote control as much as you want during my dinner with my work associates, and here's my safe word in case I decide at any point that I want you to stop", this scenario describes a sexual assault. And sexual assault is not funny.
Call me a humorless feminist, but I don't feel like going to a theater to see a film where the audience is cracking up at someone's sexual assault.