CERT: 18 / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: JOHN WATERS / STARRING: DIVINE, DAVID LOCHARY, MARY VIVIAN PEARCE, MINK STOLE, EDITH MASSEY / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW
There was a time when John Waters was hailed as the Pope of Trash and his films played at midnight to hordes of misfits and deviants. Now the ultimate boutique label Criterion releases his films in stunning HD. Just like how Sex Pistols have grown to represent British culture, American underground cinema has risen to the level of high art. We’ve always known it as such, of course, and it’s up to the rest of the world to catch up with the glorious misadventures of Divine and co.
Dawn Davenport (Divine) is a typical delinquent teen. A habitual liar and troublemaker, she ruins Christmas for her parents because she doesn’t get the cha-cha heeled shoes she wanted, and runs away to fend for herself. Falling pregnant to a lecherous slob who picks her up while hitchhiking (also played fantastically by Divine), she marries the only straight hairdresser at the ultra-exclusive Lipstick Beauty Salon (if you look too respectable, they don’t want you!). The owners (Lochary and Pearce) want to photograph Dawn committing her crimes, but the attention goes to the disturbed Davenport’s head as she believes she’s an untouchable, famous model.
Rather than trying to top the pinnacle of bad taste that is Pink Flamingos, Waters and his troupe of outsiders do what they do best and craft a story that shocks and repels but it never less than entertaining. Larger than life characters and absurd yet relatable situations abound and it features some of the most quotable dialogue of the ‘70s.
The story is perhaps even more pertinent today, with youngsters (and older folk) desperate for fame and attention, just as Dawn is. As biting as the satire is, it’s the small details that makes this so entertaining. Mink Stole’s portrayal of Dawn’s teenage daughter Taffy is a gurning delight, particularly when she’s ‘playing car accident’ and, as always, Edith Massey steals every scene she’s in. It’s a putrid time capsule of a place that no doubt still exists in some lurid backwater.
The film alone would be enough to recommend this release, but Criterion has filled the disc with some great extras too. The glorious commentary from Waters adds plenty of scene-specific nuggets and brilliant anecdotes, while the other supplements are just as fascinating. On-camera interviews include Waters chatting to both critic Dennis Lim and the woman who played Taffy as an infant are insightful, as are unseen interviews from the I am Divine documentary. For those who savour every nugget, there are deleted and out-take scenes and some footage filmed behind the scenes on-set with commentary by Waters. Utterly essential.
