Possible minor spoilers.
Many people would describe John Waters films as horrific (and rightly so), but Multiple Maniacs is the only one that really approaches the horror genre. The title, in fact, is a nod to Herschell Gordon Lewis's cult classic Two Thousand Maniacs.
The plot finds the Cavalcade of Perversions pitching its tents in Baltimore. The exhibits include a man orgasmically fondling a bra; a girl going down on a bicycle seat; a pornographer snapping pictures "as his slut of a girlfriend exposes her sacred reproductive organs"; "two actual queers kissing each other like lovers on the lips"; and the Puke-Eater ("He laps it right up for ya--he love it!"). The show climaxes with the appearance of psychopathic Lady Divine, robbing and murdering the patrons (look for bewigged Mink Stole, Cookie Mueller, and Mary Vivian Pearce among the victims). But Divine is highly unstable ("My nerves are cracking!") and controls boyfriend Mr. David (Lochary) with claims of his involvement Sharon Tate's final party ("He did something to the most beautiful girl in Hollywood!"). However, when she learns of his ongoing affair with a blonde bimbo (Pearce, known to friends as Bonnie) who like to "perform acts" during screenings of Inga...well, the camel's back is broken, and she can't let them live another minute. But it doesn't end there.
Maniacs is admittedly choppy and talkier than most of Waters's work (this was his first film with synched-up sound, and he takes advantage of this fact), but underground film fans still have plenty to grab on to. The Dreamlanders are a treat to watch, particularly the glorious Divine. She's sort of a massive Joan Crawford, complete with black wig and exaggeratedly huge lips. Shots of her feverishly stabbing with a butcher knife and rampaging through Baltimore with a sledgehammer wield an undeniably creepy power. Edith Massey makes her debut, playing herself (a barmaid at Pete's Hotel) and the Virgin Mary (complete with towel on her head); she doesn't have much to do, but she's always a delightful presence. Cookie has a bang-up entrance, holding onto a pipe and dancing topless to "Jailhouse Rock," and Mink contributes to one of the most blasphemous sequences in cinematic history. With a great no-budget credits sequence (set to what sounds like the intro to "Endless Sleep") and a see-it-to-disbelieve-it cameo by Lobstora the 15-Foot Broiled Lobster, this may be amateurish, but it displays more energy and creativity than any of the multiplex slop clogging up the film world.
"You're a maniac! A maniac who cannot be cured!"
Many people would describe John Waters films as horrific (and rightly so), but Multiple Maniacs is the only one that really approaches the horror genre. The title, in fact, is a nod to Herschell Gordon Lewis's cult classic Two Thousand Maniacs.
The plot finds the Cavalcade of Perversions pitching its tents in Baltimore. The exhibits include a man orgasmically fondling a bra; a girl going down on a bicycle seat; a pornographer snapping pictures "as his slut of a girlfriend exposes her sacred reproductive organs"; "two actual queers kissing each other like lovers on the lips"; and the Puke-Eater ("He laps it right up for ya--he love it!"). The show climaxes with the appearance of psychopathic Lady Divine, robbing and murdering the patrons (look for bewigged Mink Stole, Cookie Mueller, and Mary Vivian Pearce among the victims). But Divine is highly unstable ("My nerves are cracking!") and controls boyfriend Mr. David (Lochary) with claims of his involvement Sharon Tate's final party ("He did something to the most beautiful girl in Hollywood!"). However, when she learns of his ongoing affair with a blonde bimbo (Pearce, known to friends as Bonnie) who like to "perform acts" during screenings of Inga...well, the camel's back is broken, and she can't let them live another minute. But it doesn't end there.
Maniacs is admittedly choppy and talkier than most of Waters's work (this was his first film with synched-up sound, and he takes advantage of this fact), but underground film fans still have plenty to grab on to. The Dreamlanders are a treat to watch, particularly the glorious Divine. She's sort of a massive Joan Crawford, complete with black wig and exaggeratedly huge lips. Shots of her feverishly stabbing with a butcher knife and rampaging through Baltimore with a sledgehammer wield an undeniably creepy power. Edith Massey makes her debut, playing herself (a barmaid at Pete's Hotel) and the Virgin Mary (complete with towel on her head); she doesn't have much to do, but she's always a delightful presence. Cookie has a bang-up entrance, holding onto a pipe and dancing topless to "Jailhouse Rock," and Mink contributes to one of the most blasphemous sequences in cinematic history. With a great no-budget credits sequence (set to what sounds like the intro to "Endless Sleep") and a see-it-to-disbelieve-it cameo by Lobstora the 15-Foot Broiled Lobster, this may be amateurish, but it displays more energy and creativity than any of the multiplex slop clogging up the film world.
"You're a maniac! A maniac who cannot be cured!"