"It's easy to shock, it's harder to be witty." "Yes, Divine did eat dog shit." "My specialty is praising things that other people hate." "I wanted to be Ingmar Bergman because he had vomit in his movies before anyone else." "As my mother was walking out of Mondo Trasho she said, "John, you're going to die in a mental institution by overdose, or suicide," -- to which I replied, "Did you like my film?"

You guessed it. Comments like these could only come from counter-culture, filmmaker John Waters who thrilled, shocked, and captivated opening night patrons at the 15th Annual Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival with his outlandish and seductively naughty presentation, "John Waters Live! My Wacky Life in Movies!"

Waters spoke of his days as a fledgling filmmaker. He recounted the times he previewed films in church halls to escape the censor board, and to keep the profits. He shared memories of good friend and leading star, Divine. And he recalled his frustration at reaching an audience. "My films were ignored -- which was worse than getting bad reviews. No one wrote about them at all, except for a local paper in Baltimore. And those reviews were very negative, saying that I needed a psychiatrist and that I must have had faulty toilet training," says Waters.

Born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland John Waters began making underground movies in the-mid 1960's. Though his parents didn't agree with the content of his unconventional flicks – they remained supportive. "My parents lent me the money up until Pink Flamingos. And each time I paid them back with interest they were so shocked! Then I would ask if I could have twice as much. When I started to make Female Trouble they said, ‘look here's all the money, you don't have to pay it back -- just don't ask again because now you're in business!'"

He took the money from his parents, and then raised additional funds from friends. He also created limited partnerships. When he made Pink Flamingos Waters thought he'd finally made it to the big time with a whopping $27,000 budget and partial studio involvement. Another turning point was when Hair Spray was totally supported by New Line Cinema. "I wasn't in the Directors Guild then," recalled Waters," I didn't join until Cry Baby. But, I wished I had. I would have gotten royalties, " he says.

Water's parents needn't worry. Their son's outlandish and unique approach to film making would make him an art-house, cult figure star. With such offbeat classics as Female Trouble (1975), Desperate Living (1977), Polyester (1981), Hairspray (1988), Cry Baby (1990), Serial Mom (1994), Pecker (1998), and Cecil B. DeMented (2000), he consistently proved that there was an audience for his off-beat, wacky, and often times disturbing material.

So, what was his secret? "I knew I wanted to be a filmmaker. And I never thought that I couldn't do it. I was ambitious. But, I also was a pot-head. So, that's a hot combination – a workaholic pot-head. But, I always thought I could do it," says Waters with a wry smile.

Getting the recognition he craved was never easy. Still, Water's persisted despite objections from some pretty tough critics. In Variety's review of Female Trouble the reporter concluded that the picture's final scenes were the most disgusting in film history. "I didn't get a good review for the first ten years of my career," said Waters, " Not until Fran Leibowitz reviewed Pink Flamingos for Interview magazine. She said that it was the sickest movie she'd ever seen, and that it was one of the funniest," says Waters.

Call him perverted, subversive, honest, or unabashedly bold. Call him anything you want. Waters has succeeded in permeating the genre with his own, unique brand of film making. And that's no easy task. Says Waters, "I wanted to make successful underground movies. Then I went on and did midnight movies. Then I made independent movies, they were corrupted by Hollywood, so I made a Hollywood movie and now I think I've made a Hollywood underground movie."

© Reelwriter.net 2002
All rights reserved.