Beginning in the early 1990's there was a wave of LGBT-themed movies making their way through the festival circuits and small theaters of the already exploding independent film scene. Mixing high camp with biting satire, the New Queer Cinema movement paved the way to making non-heteronormative topics a part of the mainstream. It's only been in the past few years that high-profile entertainment has approached queer themes with any seriousness. Still, for every Brokeback Mountain there are at least a few I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry's. Toward the end of first major New Queer Cinema rush, screenwriter Brian Wayne Peterson and director Jamie Babbit collaborated of a small but intriguing comedy called But I'm A Cheerleader.

Starring Natasha Lyonne, But I'm A Cheerleader makes a campy romp of absurdities out of the otherwise disturbing practice of sending kids to "conversion therapy", a dubious attempt to turn queer kids straight. Lyonne's character, Megan, is a chipper suburbanite pom-pom who gets unexpectedly carted off to a vaguely prison-like camp called True Directions after her friends and family suspect her of latent lesbianism.

But I'm A Cheerleader carries a stunning cast of working actors. Bud Cort of Harold and Maude fame makes a cameo as Megan's father, modern-day indie A-lister Michelle Williams pops in for a couple minutes as another cheerleader and RuPaul Charles, arguably the most famous drag queen in history, plays it quasi-straight as counselor Mike. Most of the young cast has made the rounds in film and television since Cheerleader's 1999 release, including Melanie Lynskey, Clea DuVall, Dante Brasco and Kip Pardue.

But I'm A Cheerleader wears its John Waters influence on its sleeve. It uses a parade of stereotypes as a whetstone to sharpen the satire of the more rounded, sympathetic central characters. Despite a below-shoestring budget of $1M (bumped up from an initial $500K), the film looks incredibly good. The design team, including costumer Alix Friedberg and art director Macie Vener, created a searing palate to drive home the artificiality of True Directions, and thereby the concept of conversion therapy.

The critical response to But I'm A Cheerleader tipped to the negative end of the spectrum, but I think this is undeserved. Many of the dissenters attacked the film's use of stereotypes and claimed that it was little more than a failed attempt to lampoon increasingly antiquated bigotry. My contention is that the target audience for this movie isn't the anti-gay set, but the very demographic the protagonists represent. For queer teens, some reassurance and levity goes a long way to making them feel comfortable with themselves.

As far as New Queer Cinema goes, Jamie Babbit's But I'm A Cheerleader has basically been relegated to cult footnote-dom. It's not a perfect film by any means, but I'd still consider it essential viewing for anyone interested in the movement. Aside from being a deceptively clever distraction, it fits well into the bright, optimistic art of the late 1990's. On top of all that, it's pretty damn funny, too.