Possible minor spoilers.
From its dead-rat-on-a-platter opening sequence, Desperate Living is a truly special movie. It has that terrific home-movie/documentary look that all of John Waters's early films possess. After the success of his previous films, Waters was able to raise $65,000 (almost triple Female Trouble's $25,000), and the money was brilliantly utilized in the construction of Mortville--a town inhabited by criminals and constructed entirely of garbage. The focal point of the town is Queen Carlotta's plywood castle--a fairy-tale abode that puts Disney to shame.
Mink Stole brings the house down as Peggy Gravel, an insanely paranoid and hostile woman just released from an asylum. Hobbling around with a walking stick, screaming some of the most wildly uproarious lines in screen history, Mink displays the pinnacle of her formidable comedic talents. She's matched by the astonishing Jean Hill as Grizelda, Peggy's thieving 400-pound black maid. Jean brings a new dimension to the giant-woman-on-a-rampage routine popularized by the sadly absent Divine. The two women are so funny that it's rather unfortunate when the focus later shifts from them.
After killing Peggy's husband, the two women flee to the criminal community of Mortville and room with bull dyke Mole (Susan Lowe, in a role intended for Divine) and glamour girl Muffy (legendary stripper Liz Renay). Soon they encounter the town's ruler--Edith Massey, in the role of her career, as the wicked Queen Carlotta. Edie is truly amazing, clad in a birthday-cake dress, being carried on a litter and "serviced" by her sexy leather-stud guards, spouting "royal proclamations" and arguing with her rebellious daughter Princess Coo Coo (Mary Vivian Pearce, also in her best role).
Despite a few flaws (Mole isn't as appealing as obviously intended), Desperate Living remains a hilarious romp through the landfill. Cookie Mueller, George Figgs, Channing Wilroy, and other familiar faces give great supporting turns. From sex changes, epidemics, children in refrigerators, and many other wild and grotesque happenings, it shows Waters's terrific underground talent, which we have not seen undiluted since. It may not be pretty, but it is terrifically funny. I love you, Edith Massey!
From its dead-rat-on-a-platter opening sequence, Desperate Living is a truly special movie. It has that terrific home-movie/documentary look that all of John Waters's early films possess. After the success of his previous films, Waters was able to raise $65,000 (almost triple Female Trouble's $25,000), and the money was brilliantly utilized in the construction of Mortville--a town inhabited by criminals and constructed entirely of garbage. The focal point of the town is Queen Carlotta's plywood castle--a fairy-tale abode that puts Disney to shame.
Mink Stole brings the house down as Peggy Gravel, an insanely paranoid and hostile woman just released from an asylum. Hobbling around with a walking stick, screaming some of the most wildly uproarious lines in screen history, Mink displays the pinnacle of her formidable comedic talents. She's matched by the astonishing Jean Hill as Grizelda, Peggy's thieving 400-pound black maid. Jean brings a new dimension to the giant-woman-on-a-rampage routine popularized by the sadly absent Divine. The two women are so funny that it's rather unfortunate when the focus later shifts from them.
After killing Peggy's husband, the two women flee to the criminal community of Mortville and room with bull dyke Mole (Susan Lowe, in a role intended for Divine) and glamour girl Muffy (legendary stripper Liz Renay). Soon they encounter the town's ruler--Edith Massey, in the role of her career, as the wicked Queen Carlotta. Edie is truly amazing, clad in a birthday-cake dress, being carried on a litter and "serviced" by her sexy leather-stud guards, spouting "royal proclamations" and arguing with her rebellious daughter Princess Coo Coo (Mary Vivian Pearce, also in her best role).
Despite a few flaws (Mole isn't as appealing as obviously intended), Desperate Living remains a hilarious romp through the landfill. Cookie Mueller, George Figgs, Channing Wilroy, and other familiar faces give great supporting turns. From sex changes, epidemics, children in refrigerators, and many other wild and grotesque happenings, it shows Waters's terrific underground talent, which we have not seen undiluted since. It may not be pretty, but it is terrifically funny. I love you, Edith Massey!