Tag Archives: Mink Stole

#165 Favorite Film, 1972 Films, Channing Wilroy, Comedy, Cookie Mueller, Danny Mills, Dark Comedy, David Lochary, Divine, Edith Massey, Independent, Independent Comedy, John Waters, Mary Vivian Pearce, Mink Stole, Paul Swift, Susan Walsh, Top 250 Films

Pink Flamingos-1972

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Pink Flamingos-1972

Director John Waters

Starring Divine, Edith Massey

Top 250 Films #165

Scott’s Review #359

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Reviewed January 9, 2016

Grade: A

One of the truest and best late-night gross-out films of all time, Pink Flamingos (1972) breaks down barriers I never thought possible in film and contains one of the most vomit-inducing scenes ever to grace the movies.

The film is certainly one of a kind and will only be appreciated by a certain type of film-goer. Pink Flamingos is raw, entertaining, and must be seen to be believed.

Outrageous in every way and shot in a documentary style, the film features weird close-ups and amateurish camera angles, only adding to the fun.

I love the film.

In what director John Waters famously dubbed the “Trash Trilogy”, along with similar films Desperate Living and Female Trouble, Pink Flamingos has the dubious honor of being the best of the three.

Waters’ stalwart, Divine, plays Babs Johnson, an underground criminal who lives a meager existence in a trailer with her mentally challenged son, Crackers, and her bizarre, egg-obsessed mother, Edie (Massey). Babs’s companion, Cotton, joins them.

In an attempt to win the “Filthiest Person Alive” contest and usurp Babs from achieving this distinction. The Marbles (Mink Stole and David Lochary) set out to destroy her career.

Pink Flamingos is complete and utter over-the-top fare, but I have fallen in love with the film over the years.

Let’s say it is a type of film that is an acquired taste, and one will eventually revel in the madness or be disgusted with its bad taste.

Waters, a truly creative person, breaks new ground in filth. On a budget of no more than $10,000, it is impressive how he pulled this off.

The antics that Babs and the Marbles engage in are downright crude, but the extreme nature of the fun is exactly what is to love about the film. Hysterical is the character of Babs’s mother, Edie.

Confined to a crib and constantly inquiring about the Egg Man, she is obsessed with eggs and wants to eat nothing else. She eventually marries the Egg Man. The character is entertaining beyond belief.

The Marbles run a clinic in which they sell stolen babies to lesbian couples for cash.  When they send Babs a box of human excrement and a card that says “fatso”, the war between the two sides is on.

The highlight of the film is the main sequence in which Babs holds a birthday party. A male contortionist flexes his anus in rhythm to the song “Surfin’ Bird”, which may be the only film featuring an anus.

How Waters got away with some of this stuff is mind-blowing.

The most disturbing scene occurs at the very end, when Babs watches a dog do “its business” on the street and then picks up the excrement and eats it, revealing to the audience a toothy (and brown) smile.

Reportedly, Divine did this act. As the film ends, Babs truly is “The Filthiest Person Alive”.

Thanks to the genius of John Waters and Divine, and the superlative supporting cast, Pink Flamingos (1972) is a reminder that creativity and unique humor need not conform to a specific style or follow a road map.

Waters throws out any film criteria, instead creating a masterpiece of warped fun and disgust.

#168 Favorite Film, 1974 Films, Camp, Channing Wilroy, Comedy, Cookie Mueller, Dark Comedy, David Lochary, Divine, Edith Massey, Independent, Independent Comedy, John Waters, Mary Vivian Pearce, Mink Stole, Paul Swift, Susan Walsh, Top 250 Films

Female Trouble-1974

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Female Trouble-1974

Director John Waters

Starring Divine

Top 250 Films #168

Scott’s Review #146

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Reviewed August 4, 2014

Grade: A

Female Trouble (1974) is a deliciously naughty treat by famous Independent film legend, John Waters.

Not exactly family-friendly, it is a gem for those desiring more left-of-center fare with depravity and gross-out fun mixed in for good measure.

Water’s theme of the film is “crime is beauty” and the film is dedicated to Manson family member, Charles “Tex” Watson.

Meant for adult, late-night viewing, the film tells the story of female delinquent Dawn Davenport, who angrily leaves home one Christmas morning after not receiving her desired cha-cha heels as a Christmas present.

Her parents, religious freaks, disown her and she is left to fend for herself on the streets of Baltimore.

The film then tells of her life story of giving birth and subsequently falling into a life of crime in the 1960s.  Her friends Chicklet and Concetta are in tow as they work various jobs and embark on a career of theft.

Female Trouble stars Waters regulars Divine, Mink Stole, Edith Massey, Cookie Mueller, and others.

Interestingly, Divine plays a dual role- Dawn Davenport (in drag, of course) and also the father of her bratty child- Earl Peterson. Dawn and Earl have a less-than-romantic interlude on a dirty mattress on the side of the road when he picks her up hitchhiking, which results in the birth of Taffy.

Also featured is the hilarious feud between Dawn and her love interest’s (Gator) Aunt Ida, as the women engage in tactics such as acid throwing and chopping off of limbs as they constantly exact revenge on each other.

Favorite scenes include Dawn’s maniacal nightclub act in which she does her rendition of acrobatics and then begins firing a gun into the crowd. Another is of Dawn’s dinner party with Donald and Donna Dasher- serving a meal consisting of spaghetti and chips, Taffy’s tirade hilariously ruins the evening.

This film is not for the prudish, squeamish, or uptight crowd, but a ball for all open-minded, dirty fun-seekers. The film contains one over-the-top, hilarious scene after another.

The line “just cuz you got them big udders don’t make you somethin’ special” is a Waters classic.

Female Trouble is one of a series of outrageous, cult-classics featuring the legendary camp star, Divine.

Not meant to be overanalyzed or some might say, analyzed at all, Female Trouble (1974) is unabashedly trashy and makes no apologies for its outrageousness.

#170 Favorite Film, 1988 Films, Camp, Debbie Harry, Divine, Independent, Jerry Stiller, John Waters, Josh Charles, Mary Vivian Pearce, Mink Stole, Musical, Pia Zadora, Ric Ocasek, Ricki Lake, Sonny Bono, Top 250 Films

Hairspray-1988

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Hairspray-1988

Director John Waters

Starring Ricki Lake, Divine

Top 250 Films #170

Scott’s Review #130

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Reviewed July 23, 2014

Grade: B+

Hairspray (1988) is one of director John Water’s later and much more mainstream comedies.

Influencing the Broadway musical of the same name that was created years later and inspiring a successful remake in 2007, the film is a wonderful watch one late at night accompanied by spirits.

It is fun, fun, fun.

The film tells the story of a cute, yet insecure, overweight teenager named Tracy Turnblad, wonderfully portrayed by Rikki Lake. Tracy lives in Baltimore in the racially conflicted 1960s, and she battles to appear on a local talent show.

With Waters directing, one might expect comedic raunchiness, but Hairspray is quite tame. It is the only Waters film to be rated PG, the others are rated X.

Not to be outdone, however, Hairspray does contain its share of light naughtiness.

The film itself, while campy and over the top, is important since it does its best to break down racial barriers, including interracial relationships, and sends an important message.

Tracy and her best friend Penny Pingleton judge people for who they are, not on race, income, or anything else.

Those characters in Hairspray who are written as racist or less than welcoming to interracial cohabitation (again the film is set in the early 1960s) look like buffoons and not with the progressive social times.

The supporting cast is high caliber- Divine and Jerry Stiller are perfectly cast as Tracy’s open-minded yet cautious and concerned parents.

Famous musicians appear in cameos- most notable are Debbie Harry, Ric Ocasek, and Sonny Bono in small but zesty roles.

The musical dance numbers are plentiful and perfectly fit the time of the film.

Hairspray (1988) is entertaining, relevant, and free with a powerful message mixed in with the entertainment.

Independent Spirit Award Nominations: Best Feature, Best Director-John Waters, Best Female Lead-Ricki Lake, Best Supporting Male-Divine, Best Supporting Female-Debbie Harry, Best Screenplay

#211 Favorite Film, 1997 Films, Bill Pullman, David Lynch, Gary Busey, Giovanni Ribisi, Marilyn Manson, Mink Stole, Patricia Arquette, Richard Pryor, Robert Blake, Thriller, Top 250 Films, Trent Reznor

Lost Highway-1997

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Lost Highway-1997

Director David Lynch

Starring Bill Pullman, Patricia Arquette

Top 250 Films #211

Scott’s Review #868

Reviewed February 17, 2019

Grade: A-

David Lynch, forever known for his odd and mind-boggling productions, released what might be his most bizarre offering, Lost Highway (1997).

Dreamlike and downright hallucinogenic, the film is impossible to dissect and is open to endless interpretation. Characters morph into younger or different versions of themselves or even into different characters entirely making the film best served as an experience not to be over-analyzed.

The most enjoyment comes from the fabulous atmospheric elements.

Lost Highway is set in Los Angeles as we meet saxophonist Fred Madison (Bill Pullman), a nightclub employee who resides with his glamorous wife Renee (Patricia Arquette) somewhere in the Hollywood hills.

The couple begins receiving envelopes containing VHS tapes of footage of their house followed by more invasive tapes of them being filmed while sleeping in their bedroom.

Spooked, they enlist the help of a pair of incompetent detectives.

The events begin to grow more complex with the introduction of a menacing mystery man (Robert Blake) and sequences involving a dismembered Renee, and Fred’s subsequent incarceration for her murder.

Fred suddenly morphs into a young auto mechanic named Pete Dayton (Balthazar Getty), who is released into his parent’s care while being followed by the two detectives.

Pete embarks on an affair with Alice Wakefield, a mirror image of Renee, who is the mistress of powerful Mr. Eddy (Robert Loggia). Pete and Alice plan to escape together leaving their troubled lives behind.

Any attempt to make more sense of the story than outlined above is fruitless as a torrent of questions could be raised. The obvious ones are why does Fred turn into Pete (looking completely different) and why does Renee turn into Alice (looking similar)?

What do random scenes of a burning desert cabin mean? What does the bizarre and hazy lesbian sequence with Marilyn Manson have to do with anything?

Discerning the logic and attempting to unravel the mystery will lead to frustration.

The best advice is to escape into the film and allow it to manifest in the viewer’s mind. The terms “dreamlike” and “hallucinating” are often used to describe films but are perfect adjectives to fit Lost Highway.

The stories do run parallel, so the challenge is not being able to follow each of them, but rather how they connect. The stories also merge circularly with a rhythmic effect and a satisfying ambiance that lured me immeasurably.

My favorite characters are Alice and Pete and this is in large part because of the actors who portray them. Not appearing until the second half Getty and Arquette infuse passion and energy into the roles.

I immediately rooted for them as a couple as their tender and smoldering chemistry was immediately felt. Arquette blazes as a sexy temptress and Getty as the handsome and earnest man submitting to her prowess.

Eagle-eyed viewers may notice comparisons to Russ Meyer’s devilish sexploitation film Supervixens (1975).

The most notable are the dual character representations, the auto mechanic occupation, the locales (more than a few Los Angeles roads seem identical), and various sequences featuring a weightlifter, a gas station drive-up, or other eerily similar scenes.

Whether or not there is a direct correlation between the films is unknown but fun to observe.

The musical score and soundtrack are high points adding both mystique and aggression with the hard rock songs featured. Marilyn Manson’s “I Put a Spell on You”, Rammstein’s “Heirate Mich”, and The Smashing Pumpkins “Eye” are used in important scenes.

The soundtrack release was a huge success on modern rock radio achieving Gold record sales status.

At the time of Lost Highway’s release, the film was not well regarded by critics and dismissed as not making much sense. In the decades following the film has garnered more acclaim and as with a fine wine has aged well. The beautiful cinematic tone, creative design, and images have become more revered over time.

For a perplexing and cerebral experience look no further than Lost Highway (1997), a delicious companion piece to the Lynch masterpiece, Mulholland Drive (2001).

#225 Favorite Film, 1977 Films, Camp, Channing Wilroy, Comedy, Cookie Mueller, Dark Comedy, Edith Massey, Independent, Independent Comedy, John Waters, Mary Vivian Pearce, Mink Stole, Paul Swift, Top 250 Films

Desperate Living-1977

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Desperate Living-1977

Director John Waters

Starring Mink Stole, Liz Renay

Top 250 Films #225

Scott’s Review #534

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Reviewed December 4, 2016

Grade: B

Desperate Living (1977) will not be everyone’s cup of tea. It is a raunchy, late-night comedy, similar to other John Waters-directed cult classics.

This one, however, suffers from the absence of Waters staple, Divine, who did not appear due to scheduling conflicts.

For this glaring omission, Desperate Living is not the greatest of the Waters films, but it is a fun experience all the same.

The film has choruses of political satire, specifically fascism, and overthrowing the government.

Mink Stole (Peggy Gravel) takes on the lead role as a crazed, mentally unhinged, neurotic woman on the lam with her maid, Grizelda, after they accidentally cause the death of Peggy’s husband.

Peggy has been in and out of mental hospitals and is clearly off her rocker as she yells at neighbors about communism.

After an encounter with a lewd police officer, the duo is banished to Mortville, a town filled with outcasts and social deviants. They align with others in the town to overthrow the tyrannical Queen Carlotta, played by Waters fixture Edith Massey.

Carlotta plots to spread rabies throughout the community and is at war with her daughter, Princess Coo Coo.

The issue with Desperate Living is the absence of Divine, originally set to play Mole McHenry, a self-loathing female wrestler, determined to receive a sex change operation.

One imagines the Divine in this important role, which was played by Susan Lowe, a capable star, but no Divine. With Divine in the part, the hilarious possibilities are endless.

Mink Stole carries the movie well, but traditionally being a supporting player in Waters’s films, is not quite the star the film needs to be a true success.

This is not to say that the film is a dud- it is entertaining and will please most Waters fans. It contains gross-out moments and vulgarity from the very first scene- as the opening credits roll, we see a roasted rat, daintily displayed on good china, on an eloquent dinner table, presumably to be served.

Later, Carlotta meets her fate by being roasted, pig style, on a spit with an apple in her mouth. Another character is executed by being shot in the anus. The offensive moments never end!

There also exists a quite controversial scene that I am surprised made the final cut. Peggy, already in a frazzled state due to a neighbor boy accidentally shooting out her bedroom window, is shocked to find another boy playing “doctor” with a little girl in her downstairs basement.

Both children are completely naked, leaving not much to the imagination. This scene is tough to watch as one wonders what the child actors thought of all of this.

I have never viewed another scene quite like this in film.

Otherwise, Desperate Living is filled with cartoon-like characters, lots of sexually deviant leather men, grizzled men with facial hair, and other odd-looking characters, making up the community of Mortville.

Water’s set creations for the exterior scenes of the town are great using mainly cardboard and rubbish he found throughout Baltimore where the film was shot, the sets show a bleak yet colorful underworld.

Desperate Living (1977) is a raunchy good time with over-the-top acting, trash-filled moments, and laugh-out-loud fun.

The lack of any Divine makes it not the first offering to watch from the Waters collection. Pink Flamingos (1972) and Female Trouble (1974) would take that honor.

1994 Films, Comedy, Dark Comedy, Joan Rivers, John Waters, Kathleen Turner, Mary Jo Catlett, Mary Vivian Pearce, Matthew Lillard, Mink Stole, Patty Hearst, Ricki Lake, Sam Waterston, Satire, Suzanne Somers, Traci Lords

Serial Mom-1994

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Serial Mom-1994

Director John Waters

Starring Kathleen Turner, Sam Waterston, Ricki Lake

Scott’s Review #1,432

Reviewed July 8, 2024

Grade: A-

Serial Mom (1994) is led by an uproarious performance by Kathleen Turner, in the 1990s still in her cinematic heyday, the latter-day John Waters comedy fires on all cylinders. She wickedly goes full steam ahead in a pulsating performance deliciously deserving of an Oscar nomination.

The film is directed by Waters, known for perverse and gross-out fare like Pink Flamingos (1972) and Female Trouble (1975) so any chance for an Academy Award is laughable.

Though, Serial Mom is much safer than those films choosing slick 1990s mainstream camerawork over raw shots of dogshit on the sidewalk.

Still, Turner hits it out of the park playing a ‘June Cleaver’ character with a murderous dark side.

Beverly Sutphin (Turner) appears to be an unassuming upper-middle-class housewife living with her dentist husband Eugene (Sam Waterston) and their teenage children, Misty (Ricki Lake) and Chip (Matthew Lillard), in suburban Maryland.

She is secretly a serial killer who kills people over trivial slights or offenses like insulting her son or blowing off her daughter. The dastardly mom uses creative weapons like her station wagon and a fire poker to kill her prey.

Serial Mom is strictly for ravenous fans of Waters and I’m not sure it will win any new fans over. But I’ll stress how much of a mainstream affair it is compared to his more dangerous 1970s films.

It pairs well in look and feel with Hairspray from 1988 and both films star Ricki Lake.

Some have referred to it as a slasher film but that would steer it in the horror vein or knife-wielding maniac territory. Beverly isn’t Freddie, Jason, or Michael Meyers. She is fun and does as much damage with a sneer or a smirk as with a weapon.

Beverly is also the type of woman you’d like to be friends with but are terrified of crossing. After all, she kills in the defense of her kids so she’s a good mother with a wicked sense of humor.

When she delights in crank-calling her neighbor Dottie Hinkle (deliciously played by Waters’s regular Mink Stole) to get a rise out of her, we cheer her on.

Later, when charged and sent to trial for her dirty deeds, she fires her attorney and takes over her case amid rabid fan response. Beverly becomes a local hero.

She’s a cinema villain to remember.

Waters is great because he finds the perfect balance of camp and wit to make a smart film not merely a slapstick one. Many cinema comedies don’t work because the laughs feel canned instead of fresh.

The writing and the cast make Serial Mom a winner.

The ridiculous antics and situations Beverly gets involved in make the audience want to know what she does next. Who doesn’t love a well-to-do character who turns sinister? It’s fun to watch a rich suburban town turn into a shit show of high entertainment.

Besides Stole, my favorite supporting actors are Mary Jo Catlett and Matthew Lillard. Catlett has brilliant comic timing as a neighbor, Rosemary, while Lillard was on the cusp of becoming a horror/comedy star with 1996’s Scream.

Regarding cameos, I could have done without the Suzanne Somers cameo playing herself which didn’t land all that funny but Patty Hearst as juror #8 is a winner.

The ‘white shoes after Labor Day’ sequence is hysterical.

Serial Mom (1994) is a cult classic for the ages and on par with most of John Waters earlier, classic raunchy comedies.