John Waters would like to thank the Academy
Museum exhibit to feature artifacts from his cult films
John Waters was leading a delegation from the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures on a tour of his home of 32 years, cluttered with film artifacts and kitschy curios and tucked behind trees on a quiet corner 5 miles from Baltimore’s waterfront.
There was much to see: the electric chair from his 1974 dark comedy, “Female Trouble” in the entryway. A birth certificate for Divine, the 300-pound cross-dresser who played the “filthiest person alive” in “Pink Flamingos,” hanging in a basement room piled with mementos. The mimeographed poster for the 1966 premiere of “Roman Candles,” retrieved from a stack of boxes.
“Hand me that leg of lamb,” Waters asked an assistant as two curators and the museum director followed him up the narrow stairs, through a doorway and into his cramped two-room home office — one room for “my writing and thinking” and one for, as he put it, selling. He was offering for consideration a favorite artifact from his moviemaking career: the (rubber) leg of lamb that Kathleen Turner used as a murder weapon in a particularly gruesome scene from “Serial Mom.”
For decades, Waters was famous for pushing the boundaries of taste back when there were real boundaries of taste (enforced by entities like his one-time tormentor, the Maryland State Board of Censors), including the notorious final scene in “Pink Flamingos,” which involves dog excrement. William S. Burroughs called Waters the “Pope of Trash,” and he meant that as a compliment.
Next summer, Waters,
76, is being honored by the establishment he has flamboyantly provoked for more than 50 years. He will be the subject of a 11,400-square-foot exhibition at the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures, a museum celebrating Hollywood that opened last year. With this exhibit, the museum is making clear that its curatorial appetite goes beyond R2-D2 and Dorothy’s ruby slippers.
This may not be easy.
The museum has planted a flag as a family and tourist destination, which is not precisely the John Waters fan base. Notwithstanding the name of the exhibition — “Pope of Trash,” of course — Bill Kramer, the museum’s director, said a sign might be put at the entryway to warn the young and the squeamish.
“We don’t want to do anything that will alienate our audiences,” Kramer said. “We are going through the design process now, and through that process, we will ensure that the exhibition will not be watered down, but will also be an exhibition that all ages can experience.”
“Which is a challenge,” Waters interjected.
“Which is a challenge,” Kramer agreed.
Waters has come quite a distance since 1973, when Variety described “Pink Flamingos” as “one of the most vile, stupid and repulsive films ever made.” His subsequent movies — “Polyester,” starring
Tab Hunter; “Cry-Baby,” with Johnny Depp; and “Pecker,” with Patricia Hearst, to name a few — have become cult favorites, some still drawing crowds at midnight showings. “Hairspray,” his 1988 comedy, became a Broadway musical that won eight Tony Awards. Now Waters will join the ranks of Spike Lee, Pedro Almodovar, “The Wizard of Oz” and “The Godfather” as the subject of an exhibition at the museum.
“People will see irony in it, definitely,” Waters said. “My films, certainly in the beginning, got no good reviews, were censored, but people always came. Just crazy people came.
“And did any of them get nicer?” Waters said of his films, warming to the subject. “No! They all got accepted over the years, which just meant American humor has changed for the better. I think that we got used to embracing all kinds of films if they were extreme and had style about them.”
If he is right about that — and he very well might be — that should make life easier for the curators as they spend the next year deciding which works to highlight, how much to present in gory, scatological or X-rated detail, and how much to leave to viewers’ memories and imagination.
This exhibition may seem like something of a gold retirement watch for Waters, a belated recognition of his contribution to cinema and culture over the decades. It has been 18 years since Waters made his last movie — “A Dirty Shame,” which was rated NC-17. But he has since been paid to write three sequels to “Hairspray,” none of which ultimately received a studio green light. He has also continued to develop a long-gestating children’s Christmas movie called “Fruitcake.”
Waters is hardly retiring,
though. He has been traveling the country promoting his first novel, “Liarmouth: A Feel-Bad Romance,” and recently had a cameo in “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.” He is in a new advertising campaign for a Calvin Klein fashion line for Pride Month.
In truth, Waters has become part of the entertainment establishment. He is a member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, sponsored by filmmaker David Lynch, himself a bit of an envelope-pusher. “Hairspray” was rated
PG. And in another sure sign of success, Waters is surrounded by a coterie of assistants as he moves
through his day.
Kramer, who was recently named the CEO of the academy, proposed the exhibition in March 2020. Waters agreed, and the curators headed out for a scouting visit that month. Because of the pandemic, the recent visit was the first time they have been back to Baltimore. “I’ve kept this secret for a long time,” Waters said.
The show will introduce the Waters canon to audiences unfamiliar with his work, but the base is likely to be his loyal followers.
“My audience was always humorous, and they were always a little angry, but they were always movie buffs, they had a sense of
humor about themselves, and they made fun of their own taste in a way they embraced tastes that others would be against,” Waters said. “My audience was not just gay or straight; it was bikers, or it was all people that didn’t fit in; even in their own minorities they had trouble, and there was my target audience.”
Waters has never lived in Los Angeles, but was a guest at the red carpet opening of the museum last year — sharing the spotlight with Cher and Lady Gaga. “I was just amazed — who would have ever thought all these things would happen?” Waters asked. He waited a beat. “And the answer is — me.”