I Am Divine

I remember, in the early 2000's, perusing through my uncle's eclectic, medium-sized DVD collection, looking at the fronts and backs of covers of films I probably shouldn't have been let within a foot of, wrapping my mind around films about slashers, serial killers, necrophiliacs, bum-fights, and, finally, barbaric cross-dressers. The cover that wound up burning itself in my retina was the one for the anniversary edition of John Waters' Pink Flamingos, showing what appeared to be a very homely woman dressed up in a red-colored dress, holding a pistol at arm's length with a load of makeup on, with Daily Variety quoting it as "one of the most vile, stupid, and repulsive films ever made." I had to watch this, but I was only eight-years-old at the time. Damn the NC-17 rating.

When I finally grew a bit older, I watched it, and proceeded to write a review of it soon after, simultaneously condemning and praising its ability to go so far with one of the most shocking and asinine premises I had ever seen. To date, it's my favorite film by Waters, and it was largely watchable because of that person on the DVD cover, whom was the cross-dresser that went by the stage name of Divine. Born Harris Glenn Milstead, Divine was born in conjunction with the rise of trash filmmaker John Waters, who teamed up with him at a young age to make homemade films that explored and romanticized the idea of filth and exploitation. Waters cast Divine in numerous projects, with arguably his most famous being the aforementioned filth-fest Pink Flamingos and the inspiring, PG-rated musical Hairspray, both of which starred a crossdressing Milstead.

Jeffrey Schwarz's I Am Divine provides us with a look at one of the most seriously passionate and awe-inspiring performers of the last century. Coming from a humble, conservative home in Baltimore, Maryland, Milstead was an overweight child, one who exercised more feminine traits than masculine ones, and, according to Waters, was constantly harassed, teased, and beaten up in school. However, when Milstead soon got out of that madness, he found incredible success with Waters in film and TV, making a name for himself as Divine, the cross-dressing, "cinematic terrorist," who was equal parts terrifying, sexy, and a commanding force on screen.

"I love everything that's bad about America" and that's what I make movies above," John Waters states in I Am Divine, and with that, we realize why Divine was such a great person to use for his movies. Divine had enough charisma and force to make an entire scene her own, with the loyal costume and makeup designer of Van Smith, who helped Divine make his makeup look spot on and the sets on John Waters' films look equally incredible. Smith wound up shaving a great deal of Divine's hair, up until about half way up his head because he felt that there was not enough room on the human face to fit as much makeup and glamor required to make him what he needed to go into character.

The documentary dares to explore every part of not only Divine, which we learn was a character not a lifestyle, but also Milstead, who we learn struggled with weight issues all his life and was a constant over-eater. "If I don't eat it, someone else will," John Waters recalls Milstead saying one day when they were out to lunch. But he didn't feel like changing, nor did he feel like he should compromise things in his life if he was happy with them. What you saw was what you got with Divine and, if you didn't like it, "f*** you very much," was his tagline.

Divine continued to act and star in numerous projects, some directed by John Waters and some not, even forming relationships with several actors, including Tab Hunter, whom he worked with on Waters' Polyester before joining forces on Paul Bartel's Lust in the Dust later in his career. However, one of Divine's biggest breaks, aside from the constant one-woman-shows, concerts, plays, and performances, came in the form of Hairspray, which went on to be one of the biggest musicals of all time, where Divine worked alongside Ricki Lake as a mother/daughter duo. Lake comments that Divine eventually grew to become like her mother, and upon release, the film was beautifully received by critics and was met with sold-out showings and insatiable demands for more screenings.

Yet in the wake of all this happiness and glee, with the Divine character etching out of the gay/lesbian audience and trash-seeking cultists into a more mainstream audience, Milstead died from an enormous heart attack shortly after Hairspray was released, unable to read many of the great reviews of the film, which would come later in the film's theatrical and home video run. His untimely death even cut short his ability to play the uncle character on the forthcoming FOX sitcom Married... With Children, which could've helped Milstead branch out to a form of comedy without having to put on a dress and an hour's worth of makeup. The entire circumstance was deeply unfortunate, but also a result of a poor diet investment and a workaholic attitude, which Milstead fearlessly kept until his final night.

I Am Divine tags all these bases in a winning ninety-minutes, effectively establishing a character and a cinematic force that still finds himself far too unrecognized in a mainstream sense. From hitting personal bases, such as Milstead's longstanding conflict and estrangement from his parents to more openly public things, like his filmography and performing art talents, the film is a captivating portrait of one of cinema's most anarchic and liberating stars.

Directed by: Jeffrey Schwarz.

I'm not sure what I was expecting when I watched this movie. Being from Baltimore, I knew vaguely about John Water and Divine, and really almost nothing about drag queens, so I viewed I Am Divine as a complete outsider. This documentary could have gone wrong in so many ways, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was a sensitive and respectful documentary about a legendary figure.

As far as biographical documentaries go, I Am Divine was pretty standard, starting at the beginning of Divine/Glenn Milstead's life and concluding at its end. There usage of archival footage of Divine both in and out of costume was excellent, while the interviews of his close friends and family were very thorough. I found that the talking heads, rather than being too distracting, served to really painted a comprehensive picture of who Divine was. Though the documentary did touch on the issues that Divine faced throughout his life, such as his initial financial struggles, I would have liked to see the movie address them with more depth. However, on the other hand, I think that it's pretty understandable because I Am Divine was clearly meant to be a celebration of an influential figure's life.

I'm glad that I watched this movie. I learned quite a lot about someone who turned out to be enormously influential. Divine had huge hand in shaping current-day drag culture from the prim, debonair queens of the 50s-60s to the loud and colorful drag performers we are familiar with today. I would have loved to see them explore Divine's contemporary impact more in the movie, but alas. I Am Divine could have so easily veered into something that was offensive and mocking, but it stayed so respectful to Divine and who he was as a person. Watch this movie!!

This documentary seems to be more about how John Waters supposedly shaped the career of Divine, than about Divine herself. We see lots of talking heads from the Waters camp and their anecdotes about working and living with Divine. Waters himself comes across as a bit envious, taking digs at Divine, with that glib smug smirk of his. I don't think he ever got over the fact that Divine, made his career, and not vice versa. Surprisingly, Ricki Lake comes across as rather unpleasant when talking about Divine, too. Mink Stole expresses genuine kindness for Divine on a personal level (she's adorable). For good, or for bad, their interviews make it all the more obvious that the only true film star / pop icon amongst them was Divine.

The film has a bit of television show feel about it. For my personal liking, there are too many clips from the Waters films, that Divine fans have probably seen a hundred times over. It takes up precious time that could have been dedicated to revealing something so far not seen or known about Divine. Everything is of course spiralling towards the "eat dog poo on camera" landmark moment. And of course, all credit for this "master stroke of genius" goes towards Waters (biased very much).

I was very much expecting the singing career part of Divine to be elaborated upon, as to me it was her natural progression from her film work, where her Drag persona was further polished. But that part of her life is severely neglected in this documentary. In Europe, Divine is more so known for her music than her films. Her television performances on pop chart shows were on a par with some of the best of 80s music videos (dare I say far superior to the Waters movies). But there is not much evidence of that in this documentary.

Probably there was only enough money to pay for the Waters camp to have a natter about the film years, and it's a wrap. Ready for the LGBT film festival circuit, and ready to be applauded by all the gullible fools who merely need an easy saccharine nostalgia fix. That's the unsatisfied feeling I was left with after watching it.

Heartfelt & sincere portrait of a performer who was the personification of "larger than life". Fills in a lot of gaps for those who weren't aware of any "non-Waters" efforts. Not many surprises, but engaging nonetheless. #nitrosMovieChallenge.

Now, I would never, ever say that Harris Glenn Milstead (aka. Divine) was my kind of people - But after watching this bio-documentary, I was relieved to find out that there was more to this particular character besides being an outrageous, 350 lb., drag queen who once actually ate a real dog turd (on screen) as an obvious ploy to gain worldwide, cult-status recognition.

In "I Am Divine" - It sure seemed to me that just about everyone (and their dog) who ever met Divine came out of the closet to gush over him and paint an almost unrealistic picture of this entertainer who (though he had a real foul mouth) was, in reality, as adorable (and harmless) as a Care Bear.

To say that Milstead (born 1945) played the Divine character to the absolute hilt would be a total understatement. But one could easily tell that as he matured into his 30's, the thrill of constantly reinventing this in-your-face persona clearly began to wane.

I think it's the ultimate irony-of-ironies that, as an actor, Glenn really only played the role of a man once in his lifetime (as Hilly Blue in 1985's Trouble In Mind). And when he finally did achieve respectability as an actor, he up and died, at 42, from a massive heart attack.

All-in-all - I'd say that under all of that mascara and over-the-top behaviour, Glenn Milstead was probably an alright guy with irritating idiosyncrasies just like everyone else.