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The movie follows Shirley, a teenager who works part-time as a babysitter and then makes extra money by setting up her teenage friends with unhappy fathers. after fooling around with one of her customers.
Until it crosses a shadowy line dividing serious comedy from distasteful exploitation, The Babysitters has the makings of an incisive satire of greed and lust in suburbia.
A pathetic excuse to trot out a procession of teenage girls in the raw, performing graphic simulated sex acts with your basic suburban family man drooling all over himself.
Their customers are awkward enough that we're able to believe the girls are in control, or at least aware that they're the highlight of the men's week.
Is Ross trying to mimic Michael Haneke, daring his audience to be disgusted by the very titillating premise which probably brought them to the movie in the first place?
It's bad enough that writer-director David Ross indulges in the very perverse kind of Lolita-tinged titillation the film pretends to lament, but then he ties everything up with an oh-well shrug.