Critics and audiences have lengthy despaired: Where have all of the romantic comedies gone? The freewheeling effervescence of bygone Harrys and Sallys and Bridget Joneses; the brilliant aspirational gloss of a Nancy Meyers manufacturing (her newest was dropped by Netflix in March when its price ticket reportedly sailed previous the $130-million mark.)

Instead, what trendy viewers principally get are pale, labored imitations — the frenetic Jennifer Lopez-Josh Duhamel caper “Shotgun Wedding,” the hollow-core Ana de Armas-Chris Evans car “Ghosted.” In initiatives like these, romance is an empty gesture; chemistry, a distant dream. (“Your Place or Mine,” a dry kiss of long-distance courtship launched earlier this 12 months, actually couldn’t stand to maintain Reese Witherspoon and Ashton Kutcher in the identical body bodily for greater than three scenes.)

Moviegoers starved for one thing unabashedly grownup and, the movie gods prepared, truly enjoyable, will most likely have higher luck discovering it this summer time within the revival of one other languishing style: the rom-com’s hornier cousin, the intercourse comedy. Though what hard-R shenanigans seem like in 2023 — post-#MeToo, post-pandemic, mid-online tradition wars — might essentially be a really completely different factor than in 1993, and even 2013.

In a panorama so dominated by bloated blockbusters and soul-deadening sequels, it’s barely miserable to acknowledge that contemporary perspective may be signaled by one thing as easy, and as radical, as letting the lens be feminine. Still, there’s novelty in seeing the Oscar winner Jennifer Lawrence signal on to a libidinous goof like “No Hard Feelings,” due June 23. She stars as a financially strapped Uber driver who agrees, for a price, to seduce the awkward teenage son of a rich New York couple. The red-band trailer surpassed 45 million views in its first 24 hours on-line — a testomony, maybe, to moviegoers’ too-long-untapped urge for food for cheerfully slapstick set items and “Can I touch your wiener?” jokes.

The equally debauched “Joy Ride,” a type of sunny “Hangover” redux starring and created by Asian American ladies, earned near-universal raves when it premiered on the South by Southwest Film Festival in March. (It’s scheduled for extensive launch July 7.) Over 95 flamboyantly unhinged minutes, Ashley Park of “Emily in Paris” and the “Everything Everywhere All at Once” star Stephanie Hsu lead a free foursome to China on a journey of friendship and self-discovery, breaking a number of dozen statutes for class-A medication and public indecency alongside the way in which.

Introduced that very same week at SXSW, the scrappy lower-budget “Bottoms” (in theaters Aug. 25) was hailed as a queer Gen-Z twist on the traditional highschool virginity story. Directed by Emma Seligman (“Shiva Baby”), the film options “Shiva” star Rachel Sennott and Ayo Edebiri from “The Bear” as teenage lesbians who begin a combat membership to woo the cheerleaders of their goals. Hickeys and hematomas ensue.

The intercourse they’re all placing onscreen is screwball and messy and generally medically unsound. It additionally unapologetically facilities feminine want and pleasure of all kinks and stripes — “I’ll have what she’s having” to the nth diploma. If these movies succeed, they’ll be part of a brief listing of equal-opportunity raunch on the multiplex: Women-behaving-badly touchstones like 2011’s scatological lodestar “Bridesmaids,” the 2015 Amy Schumer hit “Trainwreck,” and the raucous 2017 ensemble “Girls Trip,” which turned Tiffany Haddish right into a grapefruit-fellating meme in a single day. (Think of “Easy A” (2010), starring a scarlet-lettered Emma Stone, because the PG-13 starter equipment.) Those all had male and sometimes middle-aged administrators, although; far much less frequent nonetheless are ones truly overseen by ladies, like Kay Unger’s “Blockers” and Olivia Wilde’s “Booksmart.”

So among the demographic shifts right here appear value singling out: “Joy Ride” is the directing debut of the Malaysian American screenwriter Adele Lim, who co-wrote “Crazy Rich Asians,” and the screenplay is by “Family Guy” alumnae Cherry Chevapravatdumrong and Teresa Hsaio. Most of the gamers on either side of the digicam in “Bottoms” — which toggles breezily between references to bell hooks and mid-aughts Avril Lavigne — have been born after the primary Clinton administration.

But audiences, in fact, hardly measure their leisure time in variety bona fides. Battered by Covid, spooked by a teetering economic system, and eventually cooling, maybe, on infinite Marvel tentpoles, their one directive appears to be: Entertain me. Given the choice of heady however esoteric award bait like “Tár” and “Women Talking,” through which, respectively, a classical-music conductor spirals into self-imposed ignominy and Mennonite ladies debate rape in a barn, they’ve flocked as an alternative to blithely ludicrous undercards like “M3gan” and “Cocaine Bear.” (The latter shares two of its three producers with “Bottoms.”)

Even wiener jokes, although, are freighted with the load of historical past. Seth Rogen, whose profession took root within the animal home that Judd Apatow constructed and who’s credited as a producer on “Joy Ride,” has acknowledged in quite a few interviews that a lot of his catalog doesn’t maintain as much as scrutiny at the moment. A cursory rewatch of canon classics like “Porky’s,” “American Pie” and most movies within the Apatow prolonged universe (“Knocked Up,” “The 40-Year-Old Virgin,” “Superbad”) calls again moments of winky misogyny, informal racism and not-so-latent homophobia that appear like apparent third rails now.

How Hollywood can adapt in an period so strenuously conscious of identification and isms — and a technology of younger folks reportedly having significantly less sex than their predecessors — seems like a unbroken social experiment, as murky as the way forward for motion pictures themselves. The present of probably the most outrageous comedies, in any case, is that they permit us, for an hour or two in a darkened room, to go away finest habits and protected areas on the door. At a press preview in April, the co-stars Sydney Sweeney and Glenn Powell proudly bought their forthcoming “Anyone but You,” a contemporary riff on Shakespeare’s “Much Ado About Nothing” due in December from the “Easy A” director Will Gluck, as a combative romance between “a real nightmare” and an ass, with no small quantity of nudity. The web swooned.

Those who match a sure archetype, although, like Powell and Sweeney, will naturally be given extra latitude than others to nudge the boundaries of mainstream style. Projects that showcase extra historically underrepresented teams — or anybody, actually, who falls throughout the confines of not straight, not skinny, not white — are nonetheless usually made to hold the total weight of illustration. See the performative hand-wringing over the field workplace failure final 12 months of “Bros,” a well-reviewed homosexual rom-com with an R ranking and an out solid, after it was breathlessly touted as the primary movie of its type to obtain extensive theatrical launch.

Maybe for all these causes, there are not any teachable moments explicitly embedded within the delirious, rampaging teendom of “Bottoms,” at the same time as sure life classes sneak in sideways from the margins. Or in “Joy Ride,” which nonetheless options one main character in quest of her Chinese start dad and mom, one other who’s nonbinary, and two extra who deal with intercourse like a form of globe-trotting all-you-can-eat buffet. Here, the medium is the message; the remainder is as nasty — and finally chaotic, tenderhearted, and sure, joyful — because it needs to be.