Pink Flamingos

I first saw Pink Flamingos in the mid 70's, back before VCRs. A college dorm had rented a print, and in a drunken state I've not achieved again this past quarter-century, I went to see it. Having finally seen it again only recently, this time sober, I'm here to tell you... it looks a hell of a lot better when you're drunk. Those who call it "great" or a "masterpiece" are plain wrong, they don't recognize what they are seeing. The camera work is a hair's breadth above home movies; the acting and story are... well, they are better than in porn flicks and even some straight-to-video movies, but, jeez, not by much. And then there is the primary purpose behind Pink Flamingos -- to make the most disgusting, revolting movie possible, perhaps even conceivable.

But... BUT... Pink Flamingos is distinctive. Even if you - yes YOU out there - the reader, wanted to make the most disgusting movie in the world and even if you had the money and the skills that John Waters lacked in 1972, you couldn't make a film as good as he did. Yes, GOOD! You couldn't because, first of all, I doubt you have the same quality of acquaintances that Waters had and put into into his early movies. And it's not just a matter of WHAT they will do, but HOW they do it. Waters' actors had a style, no matter how bizarre, that is rarer than most depravities. Could YOU recognize the virtues of, let alone even find, someone like Edith Massey? I doubt it. Which leads to the second point.

Pink Flamingos has panache! It has a free-wheeling sense of daring-do that borders on innocent fun. So, although the movie is so disgusting that I wish it had never been made, it is not a squalid film. And I don't think YOU, the reader, or anyone other than Waters could have pulled that off. It doesn't make Pink Flamingos a masterpiece. It does make it unlike any other film.

If one were to ask what examples of just how far cinema can go in exploiting bad taste and abjection in art, look no further than John Waters' breakout indie film Pink Flamingos. Initially released in 1972 to shocking responses, the film was an instant underground hit amidst the midnight movie craze and the post Stonewall queer movement, and has now been deemed culturally and historically significant by the National Film Registry. Often regarded as an exercise in poor taste, this could honestly be one of the hardest movies to sit through out there, and yet that's what makes it as fascinating to watch as it is to cringe at.

The film focuses on the countercultural drag queen Divine, a.k.a. "the filthiest person alive", living in a trailer with her oddball family, who ends up chasing after the criminal couple Raymond and Connie Marble who are set out to outdo her in filth. Perhaps filth is a little too subtle of a word to describe these characters, as the intense amount of crude activities they all engage in are endlessly vulgar and obscene. As the basic plot of the feature focuses on a rival band of criminals battling against each other to see who the filthiest one of all is, it should go without saying that nothing shown on screen is off limits as far as what will horrify and disgust you. That being said, there is something wildly endearing about how surprisingly earnest this film is in depicting the absurdities and harsh realities of low lives that are already ostracized by society to begin with. When one takes into account how important this film would become to punk culture and LGBTQ voices rarely being heard, Waters was quite brave in subverting what was more commonplace in the mainstream, even by the time the MPAA was set in stone.

As this was a ridiculously low budget production, seeing said bravery in putting this film together can be seen across the locations. The film itself was shot in the vicinity of Baltimore, Maryland, where Waters and most of the cast and crew grew up, in addition to Divine's trailer home taking place in Phoenix, Maryland. From nearly every frame, one can see so much culture around older school Baltimore when the countercultural revolution was taking place, complete with the gawdy costumes and radical makeup. So much personality is bursting off the screen, including from Divine herself, who is just having a ball chewing the scenery while still showing some signs of humanity around such obscene situations. In fact, much of the cast appear to be embracing the freedom to act however they please, all while unapologetically grossing each other out. Finally, the nostalgic soundtrack adds some needed fun to the otherwise stomach-turning content, showcasing Waters personal enjoyment of late 50s / early 60s rock & roll. Sometimes, you need throwbacks to classic dance tunes to cure the senses.

After more than 50 years since its release, Pink Flamingos holds up as simultaneously one of the most wretchedly unwatchable schlockfests in cinema and one of the most successfully trashy triumphs of shock filmmaking. Anyone wanting to see this film should enter at their own risk and should not be surprised if they come out hating it, as it does its job of going against the norm to completely desensitize us from all the horrible things we know and beyond. It may be banned in some countries for good reason, but its impact on counterculturalism and queer filmmaking remains a testament to all who see it.

The Divine and Doggie bit at the end is a bit much for me; I have to turn away. But a lot of it's pretty hysterical -- and it obviously works since folks are complaining why anyone would make a movie like this.

The answer, of course, is: to annoy folks who would complain why anyone would make a movie like this.

Don't be fooled by those who would have you believe that there's some deep meaning in, or mark of genius on, this film. There isn't. There is, though, a kind of bizarre, kinetic and desperate energy to this nonsensical enterprise.

I didn't hate it. There, that's my review: I didn't hate it.

I tend to agree with Ebert in this regard: this film is an object. It simply "is," and no amount of explaining will settle your nerves after you've seen it, nor convince you to see it in the first place.

"Pink Flamingos" will always be known as the film with "that doggie-poop scene". Starring the divine Divine, the film explores the outer limits of sick humor. Divine and her brewd compete with another family to see who is "the filthiest person alive". Have a guess at who'll win that one!?

John Waters' early "camp" films are not for the average viewer. You must appreciate this man's form of art, but it definitely IS art! Later films like "Hairspray", "Cry Baby" are geared at a main stream audience, for which the filmmaker had to "tone it down" considerably. For the College Camp Scene though, there is no substitute for the original 70's camp mastrpieces.

For anyone who is a John Waters virgin and would like a recommendation for the next "project", I suggest "Female Trouble" . There's so much more to John Waters' vision, realized through his muse Divine. The visually stunning, grotesquely overweight transvestite is quite credible as "Dawn Davenport", the high schooler who burned her small-town bridges when she didn't get her "cha-cha heels" for Christmas in "Female Trouble". There are many scenes that are definitely not for the squeamish, highlighted by the moment where Dawn gives birth (alone) and bites the ambilical cord (like primates would do), then, without losing a beat, gets up to confront the newborn's father via a pay phone.

If "Pink Flamingos" entertained you without giving your stomach a turn-over, then you can handle anything delivered by the creative genius John Waters. As all directors, Waters has had a few duds, even if they were box office successes. Avoid the made-up-as-they-go "Pecker", a total waste of time. The musically sparcling "Cry Baby" was trashed by critics, but the sound track makes up plenty for a lousy script. The one to beat is the 1988 "Hairspray", Divine's swan song. "Pink Flamingos" is the ONE that started it all and put Waters on the cult-city map of the world! Just to be safe, have the movie first -- then the dinner!

Like those who listened to radio reports about the attack on Pearl Harbor, every one who has ever seen PINK FLAMINGOS can tell you exactly where they were when they first saw it--and some thirty years later the movie is still one of the most unspeakably vile, obnoxious, repulsive, and hilariously funny films ever put to celluloid, guaranteed to test the strongest stomachs and the toughest funny bones.

Filmed with a close-to-zero budget and some of the shakiest cinematography around, PINK FLAMINGOS tells the story of two families that compete for the tabloid title of "The Filthiest People Alive." Just how filthy can they be? Plenty: the film includes everything from sex with chickens to what I can only describe as a remarkable display of rectal control to a heaping helping of doggie doo, and I guarantee that you won't want to eat an egg for at least several weeks after seeing it.

The cast is either wonderful, atrocious, or atrociously wonderful, depending on how you look at it. The star, of course, is Divine... and to describe Divine as the BIGGEST drag queen on the planet would the understatement of the year. She is a mammoth creature given to BIG eye makeup, BIG orange hair, and BIG expressions--she is the Charleton Heston of drag, and whether she is almost running down a jogger, pausing to use the bathroom on some one's front lawn, or startling real-life shoppers by taking a stroll along a Baltimore sidewalk she is both unspeakable and unspeakably funny. Others in the cast include Mary Vivian Pearce, Danny Mills, and the ever-appalling Edith Massey as members of Divine's family; and Mink Stole and David Lochary as the white-slaving, baby-selling couple who challenge Divine's status.

It should be pretty obvious that PINK FLAMINGOS is not exactly a movie that will appeal to just every one, and viewers who know director John Waters only through such later films as HAIRSPRAY and CRYBABY will be in for a major jolt. But if you want to see something so completely different that even Monty Python couldn't imagine it, this is the movie for you. Just make sure you eat before you see it, because you probably won't want to eat afterward--and you might want to keep a barf bag handy just in case.

Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer