Just like James and Catherine in Crash, Y and J just can't get enough of each other. It all starts when schoolgirl Y, an 18-year-old virgin, calls J, a 38-year-old sculptor, to set up a date with her friend Woori, also 18 and a virgin, who is too shy to ask J to pop her cherry. Well! J's voice is so sexy on the phone that Y gets wetter and wetter. So she decides to meet him herself and to hell with Woori!

I couldn't help thinking of conservative film icons Ronald Reagan and June Allyson in the roles of these light-hearted lovebirds. Except that Ron and June were born without genitals and J and Y fornicate their brains out for some 90 minutes (not including occasional meals, meetings in various transit stations, discussions with reluctant hotel owners and the opening and closing credits).

Of most interest to conservatives loaded on repression-loosening, taxpayer-funded booze is Y and J's kinkiness. And I don't mean all the fellatio and cunnilingus that takes up a good deal of film stock.

My word, but just like those Australian Liberal Party meetings where they thrash out policies to kick folks when they're down, Y and J take to a suitcase full of sticks, rods, hoses and wires to raise welts on each other's arses the size of a Coalition member's Johnson when it knows a whole lotta sufferin's goin' on.

Best of all is the scene where J tells Y not to swallow his come but to hold on a sec while he scoops a tidbit of Y's feces from her pert little arse and pops the pungent yet strangely tasteless morsel in his mouth so they can engage in a round of French kissing and general smearing of excreta all over their lusty faces.

Just like John Howard supporters would love to do if only someone would spike their Evian bottles with LSD or Ecstasy.

But then, you can't have everything, even if you were born with a silver spoon poised over life's bowl of cherries. Rubbing every poor Aussie's face in his or her own shit is a pretty darn good second best.

A final note. If you see the film, note the opening music and the jaunty little song sung by a demented person while J is sawing away at one of his sculptures. Perfect for John Howard's funeral.