American Pie
★★★
Revisiting American Pie in 2025, I braced myself for some serious cringe. The teen sex comedy has always been a cultural mirror—whether it’s Animal House in the ’70s, Porky’s in the ’80s or this one at the end of the ’90s—and let’s just say, the reflection isn’t always flattering. American Pie, for better or worse, is the definitive teen sex comedy of its era, and watching it now feels like opening a time capsule you’re not sure you want to peek into.
There’s no denying some parts have aged terribly. One of the most infamous scenes involves a hidden webcam—a gag that plays for laughs but now lands as straight-up creepy. Women are often written as stock characters (with the exception of Alyson Hannigan’s Michelle), and the “boys will be boys” energy runs strong. And yet, strangely enough, the movie does try to land on a more thoughtful note: that sex isn’t something to rush into, that it should be about the right person, the right moment and mutual consent. So while it fumbles a lot, there’s at least a flicker of sincerity buried under the raunch.
As a movie, though? Honestly, it’s rough around the edges. The production feels small—almost sitcom-like—especially when compared to its peers like 10 Things I Hate About You or Can’t Hardly Wait. Some performances are stiff (Thomas Ian Nicholas as Kevin and Chris Klein as Oz are basically cardboard cutouts), though Jason Biggs is pitch-perfect as Jim, and Seann William Scott steals the show as Stifler—even though he’s more of a side character here than I remembered.
What does hold up are the moments. Whether hilarious, gross or both, you don’t forget them: Eugene Levy’s awkwardly earnest “dad talks,” the “one time at band camp” setup that still lands as comedic gold, and yes, that infamous pie scene. Watching as a dad now, I found myself laughing just as much at Levy as I once did at Jim. That generational flip is pretty wild.
It’s clear why this film launched a franchise: it tapped into late-’90s teen anxieties about sex, friendship and identity in a way that hit its target audience right between the eyes. It’s not a great film—it steals from better comedies, its scale feels cheap and a lot of it is embarrassing in hindsight. But it’s unforgettable. And that’s kind of the legacy of American Pie: not that it’s timeless, but that it perfectly captured its time.
Crude, awkward, sometimes sweet, often dated—just like being a teenager.
