But I'm a Cheerleader, MTV director Jamie Babbit's debut feature, will probably never be considered her breakout film, though its brightly colored art direction and over-the-top cast of characters may very well turn it into a camp regular among the cult circuit. While the somewhat choppy pacing reveals Babbit's own lack of directorial development, it unintentionally strengthens the plight of Megan (Natasha Lyonne), who, like the film itself, awkwardly delves into precarious territory without having had the chance to grow into herself beforehand. But I'm a Cheerleader is also a blatant, if lighthearted, send-up of gender stereotyping in all of its ugliness. The neon assault of pink-for-the-girls and blue-for-the-boys effectively reinforces the idea of predetermined gender roles throughout the film, and it doesn't take much satire from the sex-obsessed camp staff to indicate that the budding homosexuals may not be as "addicted" to so-called acts of sexual deviance as certain members of their hetero-leaning counterparts seem to be. In fact, little satire is needed to exaggerate the rigorous emphasis of gender roles on society, and Lyonne's performance as a sweet-but-ditzy cheerleader smart enough to realize that something isn't quite right makes for a heartfelt journey into the surreal existence of camps like True Directions. Glimpses of John Waters-inspired absurdity peeks through in Cathy Moriarty's portrayal of Mary Brown, the camp director who presides over the "at risk" teens with an iron fist while in denial concerning her own son's obvious homosexuality, as well as within drag queen RuPaul Charles' performance as a True Directions graduate who was successfully shoved back into the closet. Judged on its own terms, But I'm a Cheerleader is an enjoyable experience which, despite lacking the gritty political implications of other gay & lesbian films, successfully uses its own lightness as a vehicle to impart the weighty nature of the message itself.