Pink Flamingos (1972)

Divine, under the alias of Babs Johnson, lives with her son Crackers, companion Cotton, and insane, egg-obsessed mother Miss Edie out in a trailer just outside of Baltimore. Divine and her clan are pleased to hold the title "Filthiest People Alive" until their right to the honor is brutally challenged by Mr. and Mrs. Marble, a snotty rich couple who run a lucrative business fronting drugs to inner city schools as well as kidnapping and impregnating female hitchikers, selling the babies to lesbian couples. Of course, Divine refuses to surrender her title, and this leads to an epic struggle in which Divine and her gang seek to prove, once and for all, that they are without a doubt the world's filthiest!

Comments:

Well, you knew and I knew I'd get to it eventually, the most famous of all John Waters' underground movies. While I admit that this is a flawed film for various reasons, and not really up to par on some levels to some of Waters' other works, this movie is quite an experience, and not to be missed.

One good thing about this movie is that it offers an excellent introduction to John Waters' world, a world of innocent sexual depravity and characters that are lovingly outlandish. There's also the other thing Waters is famous for, shock value, and there's plenty of that here. Cannibalism (a recurring act in Waters' early films), incest, exhibitionism, and executions filmed by tabloid reporters are just a few of the delights Pink Flamingos has to offer, along with the infamous climax which you've probably already heard about (if you haven't, someone will ruin it for you before you actually see it for yourself, believe me.)

All of this comes with Waters' recurring theme about the relationship between the media and criminals, as well as his skewed takes on all things American, from white trash culture to suburban life to, of course, sex. Waters' direction presents Pink Flamingos almost like a documentary, capped off with a narrator with a flambouyent Baltimore accent (it's Waters himself, and no, he doesn't really talk like that in real life). Speaking of the narration, it's certainly a landmark in cinematic history, since I'm sure this is the first time a narrator has actually called one of the leading characters an asshole.

Since this is also one of Waters' earliest films, the direction isn't quite steady and is very limited in scope. The pacing is a bit off, especially in the beginning and in some of the middle parts, with some shots taking longer than they need to take (the burning trailer sequence comes to mind). However, despite the flaws, much of what makes Waters such a great director (including the ability to make the most out of a small budget) begins to emerge here.

The actors also deserve a huge chunk of the credit. They all follow the Waters style of acting well (it's hard to describe here except as just "bad" but pretentious with extremely charged dialogue) for the most part. However, Divine is clearly in charge of the show here with Mary Vivian Pierce and Danny Mills as support. Still, the cool insanity and upper middle class snobbery of the Marbles as depicted by David Lachory and Mink Stole make a good, entertaining contrast to Divine's raging (anti?)-heroine. The only disappointment is Edith Massey, but simply because she doesn't quite reach the heights she hits in future films like Female Trouble and Desperate Living .

This is worth watching, and not simply because of its cult fame or its now respected status as an "envelope-pusher." It's an interesting landmark in John Waters' career, if nothing else, and it even has one of the best collections of 50s pop you'll ever hear as its soundtrack. Even if you don't like 50s pop, it's hard to deny that it compliments the film itself in a strange but beautiful way. Anyway, when and if you decide to see it, be sure to get the anniversary edition, since it also includes John Waters himself introducing some entertaining cut scenes "found in his attic."