Autobiographical screenplays are hardly unique in film history. But it’s a pretty safe bet that there’s never been one quite like “Lady Parts,” the debut effort from Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, native Bonnie Gross.
As its title suggests, the award-winning independent dramedy that has its local premiere on Thursday, Sept. 18, at the Philadelphia Museum of Art’s Perelman Building focuses on the serious gynecological issues the 31-year-old Gross has dealt with since her early teens.
“‘Lady Parts’ is based on my own true story about moving home with my parents to get (vaginal surgery),” recalled Gross during a recent phone call. “It’s a comedy, so it’s okay if you want to laugh. But I think the story really comes down to the main character and her relationship with her parents and her own body.
“What’s really cool about the story is, even if you’re not experiencing vaginal or pelvic pain, there’s really something everyone can relate to in terms of having to take a step back in life or reevaluating what’s important or becoming more comfortable in your own skin and your own body.”
While “Lady Parts” unfolds with humor, there’s nothing funny about Gross’ two conditions: neuroproliferative vestibulodynia and vaginismus, also known as pelvic floor dysfunction. She described the pain in her pelvic region as like a “hot knife.” Equally debilitating was the impact on her day-to-day existence.
“It really affected every aspect of my life,” Gross offered. “It would hurt to put in a tampon, it would hurt to ride a bike, it would hurt to wear tight pants and certain underwear. I mean, it really was affecting me every day, the minutiae of my life.”
Yet things got worse once she sought medical care.
“I started going to doctors and trying to figure it out,” she recalled. “I went to doctors in like four different states. And I just got a runaround of medical gaslighting. At 19, I was told to drink wine (to alleviate pain during sex). I was told I had an STD (sexually transmitted disease). I was told it was all in my head, that I need to calm down. I was put on Xanax at one point.
“I was told I’m just crazy and I need to calm down.”
Gross ultimately found a doctor in New York who determined her problems were caused by too many nerve endings in the vagina. That led to a procedure in 2016 called a vestibulectomy, but according to Gross – who today says her condition is “90 percent better” – her problems didn’t magically end with the surgery.
“Your legs are stuck together for six weeks,” she recounted. “You can’t move them because you’ll break stitches. You can’t sit (normally) even with your legs together, because that’s pressure on the stitches. My parents literally were having to take care of me for every aspect, like showering and getting to the bathroom.”
Having majored in media production at the University of Alabama, Gross also participated in a comedy writing program at UCLA. So it’s not surprising her way of processing and coping with physical and emotional trauma was to put her story into a script.
Gross’ first pass was at making “Lady Parts” a TV series, but she realized film was a better platform for her particular story. She insists the production is hardly a medical documentary.
“If I were to get on here and spew all the statistics and all the facts and everything on you, you might pay attention,” Gross noted. “But what people really love is a story and a character that they can relate to in comedy. And if you can see a character that you genuinely love and you’re rooting for and they happen to be going through this, suddenly you start to care, and it really humanizes the issue.
“It really puts it into perspective that, wow, this could be me, or this could be my friend, or this could be my daughter,” she added. “I think humanizing it is such an important piece. And for me, I’ve always loved storytelling.”
The fictional versions of Gross’ parents, Andrew and Lynn, are central to the story. So how did they react when their daughter included them in the script?
“They loved it,” Gross said. “They came in for the premiere at the Florida Film Festival in Orlando. I think my mom was sobbing the entire time. And we surprised my dad. He had a band in the ’70s in high school called Silent Auction, and we actually used one of their songs in the film. It was a nice little Easter egg.”
Since it debuted in Orlando, “Lady Parts” has racked up film festival honors awarded by both audiences and judges. Among them are the 2024 Austin (Texas) Film Festival’s Jury Award, the 2024 Florida Film Festival Audience Award for best narrative feature and the same event’s Special Jury Award for screenwriting.
But Gross – also the film’s executive producer – says that while awards are nice, the honors take a back seat to what’s most important for her: empowering women to advocate on behalf of their health, and to know they are not alone when it comes to medical issues that society has “stigmatized.”
“I just feel like there’s such a need,” Gross explained. “I’ve seen it with other films where people can watch a film and suddenly it helps them put words to what they’re experiencing, or it helps them start a conversation.
“And for me, this is what I’m so passionate about.”
For information about “Lady Parts” and Gross’ screening and post-show panel discussion, go to ladypartsfilm.com.
