pink flamingos (1972)
Is there any excuse to exercise poor taste? Only if you have good taste.
There are very few experiences more repulsive than watching Pink Flamingos. The first time I did, I almost threw up. I constantly read about Pink Flamingos screenings, and large chunks of people walking out of the cinema demanding a refund.
I fucking get it. So revolting. So disgusting. So yuck.
But also, so good. Pink Flamingos changed my life and the way I see cinema. The film is, objectively, indefensible. And yet, I consider it one of the most influential movies of all time.
Pink Flamingos sounds like a children’s movie. In many ways, it is. It’s a bunch of adults acting like immature juveniles. The story follows notorious criminal Divine, who lives in a trailer on the outskirts of Baltimore with her delinquent son Crackers, her mother Eddie, and her travel companion Cotton. Dubbed as “The Filthiest Person Alive” by the tabloids, Divine hides under the pseudonym “Babs Johnson” to keep a low profile.
Of course, there’s no fame without a bunch of haters. Jealous rivals, Connie and Raymond Marble, seek to steal her title as they believe they are much filthier than she is: they run a black market baby ring, kidnap young women so their manservant can impregnate them, and sell their babies to lesbian couples. As a side hustle for Raymond, he exposes his dick attached to a large kielbasa sausage to women passersby so he can scare them and steal their purses.
I can go on with the plot, but trust me, it doesn’t get any tamer. Other than sodomy, sex crimes, and rape, there’s animal cruelty, zoophilia, cannibalism, murder, incest, Manson family worship, homophobia, transphobia, castration, asshole dancing, foot fetishism, and real dogshit eating. Waters broke every taboo you can imagine and condensed it into one film.
Can you justify all that for shock value and laughs? Absolutely not. To polite society, the film sounds like a nightmare. To the freaks, the punks, and the outcasts, it’s a celebration. John Waters gave a stage to people who have no business appearing in movies. Divine isn’t your typical petite Hollywood starlet; she’s big, she’s fat, she’s crass, and most of all, she’s a man… Oh, the horror!
Everything you’re supposed to hate about a film is exactly what makes Pink Flamingos loved by a huge cult of cinephiles. Not only did the actors look strange, they also couldn’t act for shit. In fact, they were over-acting… on purpose! Waters himself didn’t have any sophisticated moves to show for either. His camera work is as good as that of a high school student with a cheap digital camera.
Waters is basically saying what those on the fringes think about conventional society: fuck you. It’s one big middle finger to all the arbitrary rules and morals set by people with tight asses. The fact that Pink Flamingos exists shows that anyone can make a fucking movie. There’s no such thing as being too weird, too inexperienced, too poor, or too morally questionable. If you have a passion for cinema, no matter how outrageous or tasteless, no gatekeeper from hell will stop you from making a film.
