Multiple Maniacs (1970)

Anyone who has any familiarity with this site knows that I am a devout John Waters aficionado, but, not since the dark, early days of this site (before I even joined Cold Fusion Video), have I tried to review any of his works. One reason is I've shifted away from the 'cult movies' aspect of my site's mission over the years, something I'll be trying to fix at the time of this writing. The other reason is that it's actually sort of difficult to review John Waters' films. Not only because I'm a personal fan, so any review would naturally have a sickeningly gushing tone here and there, but the collected works of John Waters are very much a genre in themselves. You have the jovial and uncynical yet dark comedy; the loving, empathic view of a colorful world of deviants; and the over-the-top, bizarre dialogue and its even more over-the-top, bizarre delivery.

Multiple Maniacs is, in a way, the first full-on Waters 'experience,' even though it isn't his first film or even his first full-length movie (the real first full-length, Mondo Trasho, had no dialogue). It focuses fully on one of Waters' favorite themes, crime and celebrity, although not in the same way or as extensively as Female Trouble and Serial Mom. As in Pink Flamingos, Divine plays herself as a famous (or infamous, depending on how you look at it) criminal who runs a modern day freak show for suburbanites called 'The Calvacade of Perversions,' with sights that vary from two gay men making out to the puke-eater. The show is free...except for the little fact that at the end of it Divine personally makes an appearance to rob and kill the audience. It's not a bad set-up, although Divine's boyfriend and right-hand man, Mr. David, is worried that Divine is becoming increasingly deranged and ends up starting an affair...never a wise thing to do when your significant other is a homicidal maniac. Then there's that little matter of Divine possibly killing a certain actress named Sharon Tate...

The most interesting thing about Multiple Maniacs is just in the fact that it's a very early work of a director that managed to come into his own, so it's also an opportunity to see how he discovered his own style and a showcase for all the original Dreamlanders (for those not in the know, 'Dreamlanders,' which refers to Waters' self-ran production company in his early years, is a term for Waters' original pool of actors, several of whom are still appearing in his films to this date). It is also the first movie to feature Edith Massey, who would probably become the second most recognizeable Dreamlander next to Divine, although she does little more than serve as a plot device here.

But while being an early work might be Multiple Maniacs's selling point, it's also its weakness. Waters' early tendency to resist trimming his movies - something even he admits to in interviews - is in full force here, with blatantly extraneous scenes and long-running conversations that wear out their welcome. Also the movie doesn't give its characters the time or space to develop the sort of eclectic, ostentatious personalities that would become a trademark in Waters' later films. Fortunately, that feature of Waters' work does shine through here and there, especially in the character of Mink, a homeless woman who seems to devote herself to giving 'rosaryjobs' to strangers in Catholic churches and giving last rites to recent murder victims (in fact, Mink gives rise to the film's shining moment, which I won't give away here, but it could very well be the most original interpretation of the last moments of Jesus Christ in cinematic history).

The roughness of this film also comes out with the acting. Although by the standard of many very low-budget movies, the acting is fairly solid (say what you will about John Waters, but he has always been a perfectionist with his cast), although lines are occaisonally forgotten or stumbled over. But, even with this being early on in her career, Divine easily seizes the spotlight with tooth and nail, giving a tasty prelude to her classic performance as a gleeful sociopath in Waters' best known early work, Pink Flamingos.

However, to regulate Multiple Maniacs as just a footnote in John Waters' - and Divine's - career is a mistake. This is very much a cult classic in its own right that just so happens to be the touchstone to a one-man genre.