The central premise of Blockers sounds old-fashioned, even retrograde: Three parents learn that their teenage daughters are planning to lose their virginities on prom night, and set out on a madcap adventure to stop them by any means necessary.

What Blockers actually turns out to be, however, is a thoughtful and generous exploration of what sex means to young women and their parents – one that still has plenty of time for uproarious gags about butt-chugging and Fast and the Furious-style car chases.

Blockers wants you to like its adult leads, which is easy enough when they're portrayed by the instantly winning trio of Leslie Mann, John Cena, and Ike Barinholtz. But it doesn't necessarily want you to root for them. Other characters are constantly and reasonably pointing out that our adult leads are in the wrong, and we're left hoping they'll come around and see the light.

What Blockers so shrewdly recognizes is that the panic over young girls' sexual choices is less about sex itself and more about control. For these parents, there's an uncomfortable gap between between the ideal of "her body, her choice" and the ground-level reality. None of these parents are particularly puritanical; when pressed, all of them agree that, yes, of course girls should have the same freedom of choice over their sexualities that boys do.

Just, you know, not these girls, not right now, not like this, not with these dudes. When one of the girls' moms corners Lisa (Mann), pointing out how sexist this panicked crusade is and what it says about societal expectations of young women, Lisa snaps back, "I'll worry about society tomorrow." Tonight, she's too busy freaking out that her little girl is growing up and out of her (loving, if misguided) control.

Blockers is the directorial debut of Kay Cannon, who previously wrote the Pitch Perfect movies and brings over a sharp understanding of young female friendships. Their girls' expectations for the evening vary wildly – Julie (Kathryn Newton) looks forward to a romantic night with her boyfriend, Sam (Gideon Adlon) wants to explore her sexuality, and Kayla (Geraldine Viswanathan) just feels like having fun – and Blockers treats them all as valid. There's no one right reason to have sex, just as there's no one right way or one right outcome.

First and foremost, though, Blockers just wants to make you laugh, and it does succeed with flying colors on that front. The film played to uproarious laughter at SXSW (granted, I was sitting just a few rows up from Cannon and her friends, so they were probably extra-enthusiastic), and seems destined to fit comfortably besides Bridesmaids and Superbad in the subcategory of raunchy comedies with heart to spare, or next to Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising as a NSFW rager with a feminist slant.

The cast is uniformly excellent. Cena proves yet again that his comedic sweet spot is tough guys with mushy hearts, and also that he's game for just about anything. He gets some of the craziest material, and embraces all of it with gusto. The biggest standout among the younger stars is Viswanathan, whose fearless, flinty vibe left me eager to see where she'd go next.

By the time Blockers gets to the climax (no pun intended), the question of whether or not these girls actually go through with the deed feels almost beside the point. We've been completely engrossed in the humor of the situation, and we're more concerned about their individual emotional journeys, their tight-knit friendships, their changing relationships with their parents. Sex is just sex, not some magically life-changing experience.

Blockers feels empowering not because it tells a story of girls triumphing in a man's world, but because it shows us girls flourishing in their own world, on their own terms, surrounded by supportive friends and nice boys and well-meaning parents. In a society that treats a young woman's entrée into sexuality as a necessarily fraught experience, Blockers cheerfully celebrates a girl's right to make it whatever she wants to be.