It wouldn't be the Sundance Film Festival without provocation aplenty. Sex. Drugs. That devil's music they're calling "Rock N' Roll." While last year's slate seemed more partial to the drugs (Half Nelson, Sherrybaby, TV Junkie), this year I've seen more sex than Colin Farrell's ceiling mirror. (You know that dude's got a ceiling mirror.) The biggest story, of course, centered around Dakota Fanning's loss of innocence in Hounddog (see my thoughts on the film here), but that was hardly the only sex-heavy film folks have been buzzing about in Park City.

Is bestiality becoming an annual event at Sundance? A year ago, people couldn't stop talking about Stay (released in theaters as Sleeping Dogs Lie), Bobcat Goldthwait's romantic dramedy about a woman who did the unspeakable with a dog. Now we have the documentary Zoo, which attempts to uncover the mystery surrounding a Washington state man's death as the result of having sex with a horse. While the gross-out factor was a given, the film was less sensational and more tame (pun intended) than I'd expected. The movie's also dull -- it's mostly a series of stale reenactments mixed with interviews with other zoophiles who repeatedly attempt to convince us that what they do is perfectly moral (they just "love animals more than you do"). I spent most of a long 80 minutes thinking of alternate titles for the film, like Everything You Wanted to Know About Sex With a Horse But Were Afraid to Ask or What's So Wrong With Doing a Horse?

As saucy premises go, the feature's equivalent to Sleeping Dogs Lie in '07 is undoubtedly Teeth, a film that was co-bought by Weinstein Co. and Lionsgate for $1 million earlier this week. The extraordinary plot in a nutshell: A teenage girl (rising star Jess Weixler) discovers she has teeth down there (mythical term: vagina dentata) and uses the mutation to defend herself from various threats in her sleepy Texas town. The feature-length debut from Mitchell Lichtenstein (Winner, Best Director Name, 2007), the film is essentially a Vagina Monologue as a horror film. It's sick and twisted, comedy at its very blackest, and I loved every minute of it.

Hustle & Flow director Craig Brewer sticks to what he apparently knows best with his latest effort, Black Snake Moan: music and sex in the Dirty South (Dirty sex for short). Christina Ricci plays a superfreak so super-freaky that after Samuel L. Jackson's god-fearing bluesman finds the battered, scantily clad girl unconscious on the side of the road, he chains her up in his house to "cure her" of her sickness. The sickness? She'll readily have sex with anything that moves, so long as that thing is a male human. The absurdity of the plot made the film a little harder to swallow, but Brewer once again crafts an unlikely crowd pleaser. He has quickly established himself as the foremost feel-good pimps-and-hoes movie director in Hollywood.

I've just returned from our last Unscripted shoot here at Sundance, and I gotta boast, it was a helluva finale. While your typical Unscripted is usually a game of one-on-one, we couldn't resist adding an extra chair into the mix for the 'Blake Snake Moan's' leading threesome, Samuel L. Jackson, Christina Ricci and Justin Timberlake.

Jackson entered our Main Street studio first, rocking all things purple – purple fleece, purple hat, purple scarf – like only Samuel L. Jackson could rock. (Never have I seen a man draped in so much purple and still thought, "Yep, he is a cool mutha f***er.") Ricci, the only Unscripted neophyte among the three, and JT quickly followed. After a brief photo shoot, the stars sat down to chat about their new drama, Craig Brewer's follow-up to the 2005 Sundance sensation 'Hustle & Flow.'

Ricci talked about researching the role of an abused woman and mastering a Southern accent, admitting she'd never even been to the South before. Jackson, who plays an aging bluesman, opined which of the genre's musicians should next be inducted to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And Timberlake, looking more and more comfortable in the acting (and movie-promoting) process, talked about shooting in his hometown of Memphis and who'd he play in a music biopic (he didn't say Michael Jackson, much to my dismay).

The shoot's funniest moment came when Timberlake hesitated before firing off a question from the teleprompter, looked off-camera and asked, "Can I really say all that?" Getting approval, he gestured toward Jackson: "Are there any mutha f***in' snakes in 'Black Snake Moan?'" Jackson repeated the question before retorting, "Only trouser snakes." JT chuckled. "I've had a few, but this is my coolest internet moment," he said.

Jackson wrapped up the interview, but not before Ricci gushed, "I liked this. I feel like I know so much more about you two." Timberlake echoed her sentiments. That's what we do here at Moviefone Unscripted, folks. We bring the stars closer together. Call for your appointment today.

Endless turbulence, the loudest snorer ever to snooze the friendly skies behind me and a vomiting child aside me couldn't keep me from landing at the Sundance Film Festival. (Really, it's not like I could ask them to turn the plane around).

And lucky for me -- or was it? -- I arrived here just in time to catch what's arguably been the most buzzed-about (ahem, controversial) movie at the fest, 'Hounddog,' AKA 'The Unholy Dakota Fanning Project,' in which the 12-year-old actress gets raped on screen. Like 'Death of a President' at last fall's Toronto fest, the controversy translated into a maximum-capacity crowd at the press screening, with scores of journalists shut out. The film starts off decent enough, the rural southern yarn's opening slightly reminiscent of a Sundance winner from years back, 'Undertow.' Fanning is Lewellen, a radiant tween who passes the time by playing doctor with her best bud Buddy and dreaming of becoming the next Elvis Presley (a girl can dream, can't she?).

The King is coming to town, and Lewellen will do anything to score tickets, which lands her in the most undesirable of circumstances. It's by no means painless, but the rape, by a pimply-faced milkman, is quick. I'll leave it up to y'all to debate the moral issues surrounding this scene (are you really telling me Fanning isn't at least 21 by now?) but it doesn't bode well for the sensitivity of the subject that Fanning also spends a large chunk of the movie in her drawers. As hard as the rape scene was to watch, I found more disturbing where the film would head for the subsequent hour. We'll leave it at "all the wrong places" as the film's overbearing "snakes in the grass" metaphor somehow leads to snakes, literally, everywhere. It seems like every character in the film gets bitten as the plot turns more and more excruciating. Sorry, but all I could think to myself: "Would somebody get these mutha f***in' snakes off this mutha f***in' farm?!"