By: Tim Donahue
As a preview to John Waters’ trip to campus this coming weekend, I sat down to watch and showcase some of his most notable films. Join him for a performance of his one night show “False Negative” on Saturday, May 21 or attend one of the many screenings of his movies in the coming days. “Polyester” will be shown on Thursday, May 19 and “Hairspray” will be shown on Friday, May 20. Both screenings begin at 7 p.m. in VU552.
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“Crybaby“
In a world of binaries, “Cry-Baby,” starring Johnny Depp, is here to take the piss out of all of them. John Waters directed this 1990 feature length musical as a follow-up to his great success in 1988’s “Hairspray.” In “Cry-Baby,” Johnny Depp stars as the titular character who rocks his 1950’s town by crossing the lines of social structure when he falls in love with a “square”, who is played by Amy Locane. Together, Cry-Baby and Allison join both forces and singing voices to bring the “squares” and the “drapes” to a more harmonious existence.
Now, the plot of “Cry-Baby” isn’t exactly original—the warring gangs that are united by the power of a love so strong it crosses all boundaries; this is “Romeo and Juliet” with less tragedy, it’s “West Side Story,” it’s “Grease” with less Travolta, it’s “A Bronx Tale,” but that’s not the point. One part nuanced social commentary, one part B movie, John Waters strikes a very specific tone that balances the eccentricities of straight to DVD trash with performance and visual infectiousness that lead to intense watchability.
A young Johnny Depp shines in his role as Cry-Baby. His character is a mash-up of Elvis Presley and Danny Zuko from “Grease” and he nails the melodrama of each scene that he is in. As a character that is asked to sing, dance and shed single tears at a time, Depp still manages to shine through with subtle winks that prove he’s in on the joke. He really defends his crown as the “king of cult” with his performance here.
“Cry-Baby” is a hyper-stylish romp that finds its substance inside of its lack of substance. It’s paradoxical in the way that it makes fun of typical musical-comedies while becoming a solid entry into the genre at the same time. It isn’t “Citizen Kane” and it isn’t “The Room”—”Cry-Baby” deserves a category all to itself.
“Hairspray“
“Hairspray” is not “Cry-Baby,” though it may look the same on the surface. By starting my viewing experience with “Cry-Baby,” I created a certain set of expectations for myself. These expectations were matched, exceeded and completely ignored all over the hour-and-a-half that I spent with the second movie in my marathon.
“Hairspray” is not like anything I had seen before. I had come to expect a lack of seriousness from John Waters, “Cry-Baby” was a romp to watch and I was expecting more of the same. The allegories were light and vague throughout and “Cry-Baby” was more of a comedic impersonation than a social critique. “Hairspray” is different. Although it comes with the same stylized window dressing that one expects from a John Waters movie, thematic undertones reveal a harsh critique on movies that are set around the time of initial integration.
Set in 1962, “Hairspray” ditches the trappings of the teenage rom-com in order to twist itself to fit a social commentary about the rising racial tensions of the time. The camera finds the satire here. By repeatedly searching for the white characters and documenting their reaction to the racial injustices that ensue over the last third of the film, the camera is focusing in on the white saviorism that has become a rampant tool in Hollywood filmmaking—especially those set in the 1960s. White characters, especially those in the Turnblad family, take the spotlight and scream for integration so loud that they drown actual minority voices completely out of the focus. Typical for Waters, this is the point. But it complicates the success of a movie that ultimately becomes everything that it is making fun of. White characters making fun of white saviorism is a certain kind of white saviorism in itself.
Through a mix of John Waters’s brand of hyper-reality and a hard-hitting satirical edge, “Hairspray” achieves a rare kind of balance that keeps the B movie opulence in line with a sense of real-world relevance. There is a lot of fun to be had watching “Hairspray”—the music alone makes it worth your time—but John Waters uses his flair as a tool; he mesmerizes the audience with an entertainment factor that almost sneaks the satire behind the distractions he presents along with the over-the-top performances. Though it may be tempting to take this movie with a grain of salt, there is a lot to digest under the surface.
“Polyester”
“Polyester” is John Waters’ horrific nightmare of a vision for the classical American mother. Divine stars as Francine Fishpaw, the matriarch of the brash and soapy Fishpaw family. Francine spirals after being barraged by an onslaught from their delinquent family that yells disappointments into their face until they are driven into grotesque alcoholism.
John Waters is in rare form with his social commentary here, the eccentricities that water down as he continues into the 80s are pure in “Polyester.” With break-neck pacing, the surreal invasion into the Fishpaw’s suburbanite life is hazy, like a dream that you can only barely recall when you wake up.
After watching “Cry-Baby” and “Hairspray,” “Polyester” was able to offer some real insight into the point where Waters’ focus is most pure: social commentary comes before style. John Waters seems most interested in the nightmarish vision in which adults see teenagers. The generational divide informs so many of his movies and “Polyester” views this generational warfare from the opposite point-of-view of later movies like “Cry-Baby” and “Hairspray.”
“Polyester” seems to fit about four or five movies into such a short time that the narrative has a tendency to lose itself inside of the pacing. The confusion is intended here, there is a loss of agency that forces the audience into Francine’s shoes as everything happens to her. Audiences will divide in screenings of “Polyester” in a way that just will not happen in much of Waters’ later work. In many ways, “Polyester” seems like a movie made by a man who is still unsure about his place within the mainstream framework of Hollywood filmmaking. The result is bravery in low-stakes satire and a movie that shines in its own sense of urgency. “Polyester” is pin-point precision in satire of a time when an American family unit was a monolith.
“Pink Flamingos“
Now here’s the disgust that I was promised! “Pink Flamingos” tells the story about two families who compete in order to gain the reputation of the filthiest people alive. John Waters makes his directorial debut here and it is not for the faint of heart. In a film that revolves around a “battle of filth”, the camera itself emerges the secret winner, achieving peak filth in the audacity that it takes to even capture the depravity that happens on-screen.
It is kind of shocking that John Waters even had a career after this movie. That being said, he is successful in everything that he sets out for. Divine plays a version of themselves as the main character in “Pink Flamingos”; they are brash and loud, while maintaining a sense of perverse warmth that they lean in to throughout “Polyester.” In a movie that is deliberate in its putridity, Divine is able to center the filth with the aura of celebration that they bring to the excess that defines this film.
The filth does not stop with the actions of the characters in “Pink Flamingos,” it permeates into the filmmaking as well. With sharp cuts in both sound and visuals, “Pink Flamingos” disorients the viewer by skipping around in time, soundtrack and narrative events with a complete disregard for consistency or the seamlessness that many strive for. In this way, the filth seeps through the framework of the film and gets even closer to the audience than the on-screen events ever could.
If there is a heart beneath the grime of “Pink Flamingos,” it’s found in the desire to push the audience to the limits of anything that they have ever seen on screen before. John Waters finds artistic honesty in his passion for subversion and takes great care to produce something that seems to take a wrong turn at every single turn. It takes a great love to know where those turns are.
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When it comes to the John Waters experience, I think it’s best to stick a toe into the shallow end first. Watch “Cry-Baby,” watch “Hairspray” and really check in with the strength of your stomach before moving on to his older works. If you think you’re brave, if your stomach is settled and you’ve got a bottle of Tums at the ready, then you are in for an experiment that is almost inspiring in the lengths of its creativity. “Polyester” and “Pink Flamingos” are more rewarding to watch than some of Waters’ later and more digestible work. He sure makes you work for that satisfaction and I think you lessen your own puke potential when you work your way up to the extreme stuff as gradually as you can.
For more information about his upcoming trip to campus, please follow this link: https://westerntoday.wwu.edu/news/john-waters-brings-false-negative-to-western-washington-university