Hot Flash Havoc left me cold. (Publicity photo)

I'm a reporter. I talk to people for a living. Without conversation, I can learn nothing, and therefore have nothing to write about — nothing, anyway, beside my own thoughts, which are of dubious value. But last night, at a pre-screening reception for Hot Flash Havoc at the 701 restaurant by the Navy Memorial, I simply could not muster the will, the courage, to speak to any of the sixty or so people there. The room was a blur of meticulously dressed middle-aged women — some perimenopausal and some postmenopausal — all with gold bracelets clanging about their wrists, Chanel purses dangling from the crooks of their elbows, and fake boas around their necks that shed red feathers onto the floor. I spotted the occasional man, but they all wore fine suits, putting my untucked collared shirt in stark relief. The air: heavy with musty perfume. My mouth: devouring chorizo tapas, proscuitto-wrapped scallops, and tuna tartare toastlets. My ears: hearing someone say, "We raised $35 million in 20 minutes." My element: out of it.

I was relieved when the crowd was moved to the nearby Burke Theater to watch Hot Flash Havoc, a documentary that was, essentially, Everything You Wanted to Know About Menopause but Were Afraid to Ask. Before the curtains parted, Phyllis Greenberger, president of the Society for Women's Health Research (for which the film's $100-$250 tickets had raised funds), told the crowd, "This is important for men living with a woman — or not. If you know a woman." I do know women, and although nearly all of them are not yet dealing with menopause, it behooved me to pay attention to the film so that if someday I started dating, and if I got a girlfriend, and if we moved in together, and if we got married, and if we stayed together until she reached menopause — well, then I wouldn't be completely caught off guard.

Okay, maybe I was the last person on Earth who needed to see this film, but to judge it from that perspective would be unfair. So here's what I learned from Hot Flash Havoc. Menopause can lead women to:

Lose their sex drive.

Have wild mood swings.

Lose memory capacity.

Gain weight.

Sweat while sleeping.

Get depressed.

Lose bone density.

Have hot and cold flashes.

The vagina, I further learned, undergoes profound changes. It loses circulation, becoming pale. It dries out, causing it to hurt during sex, if that even occurs. In short, as a doctor in the film says, the vagina atrophies.

I learned this from a film that, despite opening with a somewhat amusing montage of street interviews with men and women talking about the realities and myths of menopause, quickly devolves into an overlong instructional video about what to do when menopause hits. The female narrator, with her robotic voice, sounded like she belonged in a sci-fi series like V or an informercial for hand cream. Meanwhile, the film paraded one surgically altered woman after another in front of the camera to talk about her personal history with menopause. There was also a doctor who, despite his expertise, was a dead ringer for Dr. Leo Spaceman on 30 Rock.

The parade felt like it would never end, and when it finally did, a panel followed with experts ready to answer any questions from the audience that remained unanswered by Hot Flash Havoc. Joined by by a fair number of fellow moviegoers, I left the ice-cold theater — "I could use a hot flash right now," joked one man — and hurried towards the balmy outdoors. But the movie had, apparently, served its purpose. I heard a woman say, as she exited the building with two friends, "I'm going to see my gynecologist tomorrow!" The conversation continued, but I chose not to listen. I'd learned enough for one night, thank you very much.