A Dirty
Shame (*)
review by Jon
Waterman
Baltimore is under attack. But it’s not through guns
and violence or corrupt political practices. No, the city is
being over-run by hypersexual misfits. Led by Ray Ray Perkins,
this free love bunch is out there trying to convert people
to the ways of perversion. The cult feels they are on the cusp
of discovering a brand new sex act, which would lead them to
a utopian existence. Enter Sylvia Stickles. As her name suggests,
she’s something of a prude. That is, until she suffers
a concussion. Now she’s one of them, and could quite
possibly hold the key to the pink gate.
“A Dirty Shame” is an extremely appropriate title,
because that’s the way I feel about the film. It’s
a dirty shame that legendary shlock writer/director John Waters
couldn’t deliver a better movie. I can’t help but
think how much different and better this movie would be if
Divine were still alive. Even without her presence, it hits
most of the standard Waters checkpoints, but it does so far
back from the leader. The acting is bad, but its not funny
bad. The characters won’t be seen in most films, but
they’re far from outrageous (or even interesting). The
sexual content is pervasive, but hardly in your face. This
film may disturb old ladies and make the more conservative
types cringe, but it won’t phase a Waters fan.
It won’t make them laugh either. It seems like Waters
tried to substitute jokes for substance a little too often.
The problem is that the film doesn’t really have a good
message to deliver. Far from a social commentary, the movie
is just sort of there. Don’t get me wrong. It doesn’t
have to be saying anything about society, but to me it seems
like it was trying to and failed. He also gets a little pretentious
on us and uses flashing superimposed title cards at specific
times. For instance, during one of the times Sylvia gets hit
in the head, large, bold, flashing white letters proclaim “WHORE,” or
something to that effect. That’s a little too reminiscent
of what a cheap modern art video project would be, if you ask
me. You certainly don’t want to let the audience figure
such obvious shifts in the character’s mental state for
themselves.
The movie is typical Waters. Usually that’s a good thing.
You go into his films expecting a certain level of crudeness,
shock, perversion, and horrible acting. That’s what makes
them so fun. This time around, it just doesn’t hit on
all cylinders and can’t quite reach that against the
grain feel that the majority of his stuff contains. Perhaps,
as I become more mature, I’ve been jaded. Usually a Waters
film teaches me something about a sexual subculture or move
that before was kept in the underground. I didn’t feel
educated. In fact, I felt cheated. And bored. All this talk
of a sexual revolution never reached its climax. It was nice
of him to go down there and try, but he was almost doomed from
the start.
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