The freedom of queer filmmaking has reached a point where we could use an animated picture as blunt and vulgar as Lesbian Space Princess. This isn’t a cute, sci-fi coming-of-age romp, but rather a rebellious smorgasbord of in-your-face absurdism, boasting planets named after vaginal body parts, evil homophobic aliens, and a giant penis of a starship that shoots semen. It is overtly sexual, heavy on puns, stupid with its humor, and overall just kinda cute in its own weird way.

The film doesn’t shy away from exaggerating in its very gay scenario. Saira (Shabana Azeez) isn’t just an introverted princess of her planet, but a complete crybaby and pushover in desperate need of some self-esteem boosting. Her queen parents, Anne (Madeleine Sami) and Leanne (Jordan Raskopoulos), offer no support, maintaining a chipper demeanor and hoping their daughter will grow on her own. Her rite of passage involves magically conjuring a labrys from her vagina. Oh, and her planet is called Clitopolis.

Desperate for any love, Saira clings to the one woman who dated her first, the bad-ass bounty hunter Kiki (Bernie Van Tiel). Naturally, Kiki is too cool for somebody so introverted and can only take so much of Saira’s anxious nature before she ditches the princess. But when Kiki is held hostage by the ridiculous Straight White Maliens (voiced by the comedy group Aunty Donna), Saira still wants to come to the rescue of the only relationship. Becoming a hero will take her on a chaotic quest across the universe in a problematic ship (Richard Roxburgh), encountering a dangerous drag queen (Kween Kong) and a slime that feeds on negative feelings.

Along the way, Saira encounters the eccentric and musical Gemma (Gemma Chua-Tran), the perkiest goth in the universe. With her vibrant green hair and pointy elf ears, she’s fascinated by Saira’s personality and is less likely to take advantage of her royal association. This is naturally the woman Saira should be with, and it doesn’t take as long as one might expect for them to speed right into the bedroom (or starship floor). It’s up to Saira, though, to make the right call about who she’ll be with to whip out her magical powers in a manner akin to Revolutionary Girl Utena.

Emma Hough Hobbs and Leela Varghese don’t go for subtlety at all in this wacky indie animation. There’s something refreshing about how ridiculously blunt this film gets, without trying to glaze its queerness with a mainstream coating. The problematic starship lives up to its name with cynical comments and breaks up romantic moments by inappropriately referencing lesbian movies. Tongue-in-cheek dialogue courses through the script, as when mentioning how Clitopolis is a hard place to find. The Straight White Maliens are easily the funniest characters for how they play up the obnoxious nature of insecure white dudes who want to find women but won’t shut up about Magic: The Gathering rules and Marvel movies. In particular, I burst out laughing when they were cursing smartphones as they believed they were only made with lesbians in mind.

Yes, all this humor is so extremely on the nose you can feel the rounded cartoon fingers shoving your face in the overt satirical goo. Not all of it sticks, including an elongated bit about how lesbian sounds similar to thespian, but the momentum of these gags gave the film its charm. The onslaught of these jokes never lingers for too long, and there’s usually a better one right around the corner, should the silly lyrics of Gemma’s nuance-free music not be your cup of comedy. The unique sketchbook animation also adds to its lovable quality with colorful details and ludicrous designs. How could I not find some amusement in an animated movie that went to all the trouble of building a model of a penis ship for a single shot where it is blown up? That said, the mind boggles at how much wilder this film could get if it had the goofy guts to not hide its sex behind the sheets.

Lesbian Space Princess is a cute and stupid gay cartoon that has just enough absurd energy to carry it across the exaggerated stars. The jokes don’t always work, but there’s a fearless quality to how vulgar and ridiculous this tale of being brave and getting out of a toxic relationship can be. It has the aroma of those classic counter-culture films that were as blunt as a wrecking ball and admirable for the momentum alone. Maybe it won’t be remembered that way, but it’s fun enough as a colorfully bizarre romp that isn’t afraid to cake on a heaping helping of lesbian lunacy.