I’m still trying to figure out who is the target audience for Hysteria. The film is replete with sex, except for the actual sex part. And everybody in town stays fully dressed from collar to ankle and beyond pretty much the whole film. Do you like sex? And talk of sex? And sex toys? And sexual partners? But can’t stand nudity, porn or love making? Here’s a pic for you.
Set in London in 1880, Hysteria stars Hugh Dancy as Dr. Wannabe Mortimer Granville, a kid with some talent in the medicinal arts and no prospects. We see him interview all about town. It’s not quite a scene of sympathy. His well-to-do backer Edmund St. John-Smythe (Rupert Everett) funds Morty’s life out of whimsy. Dr. Frankenweenie here just wants to make good on his own. Enter Dr. Feelgood Robert Dalrymple (Jonathan Pryce). His entire practice consists of treating women ages 30-60 for Hysteria, a made up illness “cured” by personal masturbation on a regular basis. I don’t think my HMO covers that.
The historical background, were it explored more fully, of Hysteria is fascinating. Apparently, every single time a well-to-do English woman was mildly dissatisfied in the late 19th C., she had “Hysteria.” This covered any manner of maladies, all of which had ambiguous or untraceable roots. It’s like the Victorian version of McCarthyism. And the cure is, honest-to-God, Jonathan Pryce makin’ soup with your woman for 15-45 minutes. But Dr. Jellyfinger can’t “treat” all the “patients” 
himself, so enter Hugh to play not-so-Fear-Factor.
This should have been funnier. Or at least less predictable. From the time Mortimer (“you’re an animal, Mortimer” “ride me big … Mortimer”) enters his future place of employment and finds Maggie Gyllenhaal (wasted here … not unlike a bikini in the Victorian Age) ranting about women’s rights, you know exactly how this is going to end. Getting there involves a great many middle-aged women doing their “I’ll have what she’s having” routine. Geez, did Adam Sandler write this? No, of course not; he would have to have done some research. And I just bet you can’t figure out what Rupert’s feather tickler electrical invention leads to. I’ll give you a hint: it isn’t dusting.
I’m still left wondering about the intended audience: there’s an English tonne of sexual innuendo, an archaic vibrator, some jolly good lessons in fingerbanging, and several women pretending to be pleasured. What there isn’t is some good old fashioned nudity, consensual sex , oh, and, by-the-way the theme is women’s rights, not sexuality. Why would you love Hysteria? It’s a mysteria.
Rated R , 100 Minutes
D: Tanya Wexler
W: Stephen Dyer, Jonah Lisa Dyer & Howard Gensler
Genre: Titillating, Ye Olde School style
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: People who love sex, but hate nudity.
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: People who hate to be teased.
I thought it would be a movie version of Sarah Ruhl’s fabulous play “In The Next Room” or the vibrator play. With Maggie Gyllenhaal playing the Stacy Ross part. When I saw no Sarah Ruhl credit mentioned I figured, “they changed it just enough – Hollywood writers they’re the real criminals Bart.” But it sounds like they took a talented cast and gave them nothing (nothin I tells ya) to do.
So…good costumes, eh?