High school senior Abby (Sam Morelos) hopes to end her senior year with a bang in Summer Of 69, the directorial debut from former Saturday Night Live writer Jillian Bell. As the movie’s name suggests, Abby’s quest is far from metaphorical; upon receiving intel that her longtime crush Max (Matt Cornett) has an affinity for the titular sex act, the awkward loner spends the last week before graduation receiving a rather unconventional sex education from a stripper named Santa Monica (Chloe Fineman). Yet its insights on female sexuality, patriarchal exploitation, and sex work-related stigmas are superficial at best, glaringly lazy at worst. Co-written by Bell, Liz Nico, and Jules Byrne, Summer Of 69 doesn’t flesh out its characters, themes, or jokes with enough finesse to even rank within the storied teen sex comedy canon.
Despite boasting an impressive mane of curls, baby-smooth skin, and a sculpted body, Abby hasn’t made a single connection during her high school tenure. The majority of her time is spent pining over Max Warren (whose name is almost always uttered in full) and inhabiting elaborate, escapist daydreams. Despite her real-world social ineptitude, she has cultivated a mass following on a streaming platform as “Abby Cadaver,” an expert gamer who dons a zombie mask while demonstrating hacks on the latest horror releases. Through the cash she earns as a content creator, she’s raised a couple thousand dollars to put toward her first set of wheels. This financial goal instantly shifts when she wanders into her hometown’s seedy strip club and sees Santa Monica perform. The flurry of dollar bills and whooping from male patrons dazzle her. She decides then and there to hire this woman so that she may learn to exude the same sexuality—all with the aim of 69ing with Max during his graduation bash.
There’s something oddly retro about Abby looking to a flesh and blood woman for sexual pointers in lieu of falling down internet rabbit holes; there are countless social media platforms that pander to young women’s insecurities, offering supposed tips and tricks totally free of charge. In the age of OnlyFans, it’s also intriguing that Abby doesn’t opt for an online sex worker to offer her personal guidance (to the film’s credit, it is established that the teen has never watched porn). Abby instead promises Santa Monica $5,000 upfront for a week of curated “lessons”—which include straddling a CPR dummy and studying Tom Cruise in Risky Business—that will culminate in a whopping $20,000 payout. This happens to be exactly how much Santa Monica would need to buy the strip club from her financially down and out boss (Paula Pell), ending her days of degrading house calls and fulfilling her dream of becoming a business owner.
The central irony of Summer Of 69 is that while Abby hopes to emulate Santa Monica’s hyper-feminine eroticism, the stripper is actually acutely ashamed of herself, particularly as the prospect of attending a high school reunion swiftly approaches (as it turns out, her alma mater is Abby’s own Catholic high school). Yet there’s no adequate unpacking done around this dichotomy. While Abby is under the impression that men worship Santa Monica for her beauty and sexuality, the truth is that she’s the primary target for their most misogynistic urges. She is an object, not a person. Subconsciously or not, Abby’s discomfort in her own skin means that she is hoping not to truly gain confidence in herself (which would allow her to embrace sex in a way that is satisfying for her), but project confidence in a way that men find appealing but non-threatening.
As Abby and Santa Monica’s bond slowly develops into one of genuine camaraderie, it’s bizarre that more isn’t revealed about their respective backgrounds and interiorities. It’s almost as if the filmmakers have resorted to a stance on sex positivity that is so forgiving that there is no room for critique. When Santa Monica reveals that she was 18 when she first auditioned at a rival strip club (owned by Rick Richards [Charlie Day], a strip club tycoon who hopes to vie for ownership of Santa Monica’s club), there is no reflection on how she and Abby mirror each other, though at different stages of molding themselves into something a man would find desirable. In the same vein, as both come from a Catholic upbringing, there’s no investigation of the erotic repression the religion is notorious for.
Titillated by the idea of sex but intensely nervous about executing the act, Abby is hellbent on transformation, a fixation that isn’t necessarily odd for a fresh 18-year-old. It would be untrue to assert that most women don’t attempt to imitate what society deems desirable during our coming-of-age. Santa Monica, on the other hand, dons a perpetual mask when performing sexuality; she hates the men who frequent the club and finds herself in unsafe situations when making house calls. Her only goal is to own the club so that she may step back from these duties she finds clearly demoralizing—but what about the women who will work for her? The fact that her current employer is also a woman doesn’t transform this strip club into a utopian feminist employer; what will Santa Monica’s goal be to ensure that other women don’t find themselves in a similar bind? Through her work with Abby, it’s clear that her fixation on money might be able to trump her care for another woman’s wellbeing.
Even if there’s nothing remotely wrong about working as a stripper, isn’t there a hint of discomfort on Santa Monica’s part about molding another young woman to approach sexuality in a way that prioritizes someone else’s fulfillment? There are conversational threads that touch upon whether or not Abby is “ready” to 69, and a sex store sequence that emphasizes the empowering act of masturbation, but the script offers little insight into how to divorce one’s sexual identity from a focus on male pleasure. Despite the mutual satisfaction promised by its title, Summer Of 69 seems to view women’s sexual self-discovery as hinging upon their partner’s gratification; conversely, yet perhaps relatedly, it positions girlbossing as the salve to a woman’s social status under patriarchy.
Director: Jillian Bell
Writer: Jillian Bell, Jules Byrne, Liz Nico
Starring: Chloe Fineman, Sam Morelos, Matt Cornett, Charlie Day, Natalie Morales, Paula Pell
Release Date: May 9, 2025 (Hulu)
