Film critic Henry Sheehan

DATE January 26, 2001 ACCOUNT NUMBER N/A
TIME 12:00 Noon-1:00 PM AUDIENCE N/A
NETWORK NPR
PROGRAM Fresh Air

Interview: Filmmaker John Waters talks about his movie career as
well as his latest film, "Cecil B. DeMented"
TERRY GROSS, host:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross.

(Soundbite from "Cecil B. DeMented")

Mr. STEPHEN DORFF ("Cecil B. DeMented"): I'm Cecil B. DeMented, and you're in
my movie. You look in a camera and ruin a take, you're dead.

Ms. MELANIE GRIFFITH ("Honey Whitlock"): You know Quentin Tarantino? I love
his movies.

Mr. DORFF: No ad-libbing!

(Soundbite of gun shot and screaming)

GROSS: That's a scene from John Waters' new comedy, "Cecil B. DeMented,"
which has just been released on video and DVD. It's about a director who
becomes a cinema terrorist, declaring war on mainstream movies and the
cinaplexes that show them. "Cecil B. DeMented" is even more willing to go to
extremes than Waters himself. Waters first became known for films that were
shocking and hilarious in their bad taste. His 1972 film "Pink Flamingos"
helped create the midnight movie phenomenon. His other movies include
"Polyester," "Hairspray," "Serial Mom" and "Pecker."

I spoke with Waters last summer, when "Cecil B. DeMented" was first released.
In the film, director Cecil B. DeMented sets out to make a movie that will
destroy the movie industry. He kidnaps a spoiled Hollywood movie star played
by Melanie Griffith and forces her to star in his new anti-Hollywood film.
Cecil B. DeMented is played by Stephen Dorff.

(Soundbite from "Cecil B. DeMented")

Mr. DORFF: Now our picture is called "Raving Beauty." You play the insane
owner of a failed art theater who, along with her film fanatic boyfriend,
Lyle--Lyle, come on over--and her violence-prone daughter Cherish...

Ms. GRIFFITH: Daughter?

Mr. DORFF: Together the three of you vow to start a revolution to destroy
mainstream cinema.

Ms. GRIFFITH: I can't be in this movie.

Mr. DORFF: You dare to tell Cecil B. DeMented you refuse?

Ms. GRIFFITH: I am too young to play her mother.

Mr. DORFF: I know how old you are.

Ms. GRIFFITH: All right, well, I just don't feel it. I just am not
motivated.

Mr. DORFF: How's this for motivation, huh?

(Soundbite of electricity)

Ms. GRIFFITH: Ow!

Mr. DORFF: There are no creative differences on a Cecil B. DeMented set, Ms.
Whitlock. You got that? One day you'll thank me for saving you from your bad
career. Places.

GROSS: John Waters, welcome back to FRESH AIR.

Mr. JOHN WATERS (Filmmaker): Thank you for having me.

GROSS: What crystalized the story for you, the story of an underground movie
group dedicated to destroying commercial cinema?

Mr. WATERS: Well, I had certainly some fondness of remembering the radical,
left-wing days of the '60s and how much--instead of going to a rave on a
weekend, we went to a riot. So I didn't want to make a nostalgic movie. And
I thought, `Kids just don't get the '60s and what really happened, especially
in the political viewpoint of it.' So I tried to take that and put it in a
movie that maybe would be a very contemporary movie if cinema were politics,
if there was cinema unrest, if people went to war over their taste in movies.

GROSS: Oh, which is what it sometimes feels like, doesn't it?

Mr. WATERS: It used to. It feels less and less like that, because there's
less and less genre theaters. I mean, there used to be theaters that only
played karate movies, there was blacksploitation theaters, there was
sexploitation theaters, there was family movie theaters. But that's really
blurred now. You don't have that so much. So I always love the idea of those
audiences at war with each other, so a city would be--you know, there would be
cinematic tenseness in the air. And like they used to describe racially
tense. I mean, there would be trouble brewing from different theater owners.
And that to me would be really kind of an exciting way to live a life.

GROSS: Well, Cecil B. DeMented, the leader of this band of subversive,
underground filmmakers, says, `The Hollywood system stole our sex and co-opted
our violence, so there's nothing left for our kind of movies.' Did you ever
feel that way yourself, that your kind of movie has been subverted?

Mr. WATERS: Well, in a way I guess I'm hypocritical because I am glad that
happened, because it's made my career a lot easier to get my movies made
because this has happened. So in some ways I'm criticizing, but I'm a big
part of it, because this movie was financed by Canal Plouse(ph), which is like
a big studio in Europe. It's the biggest French production center. So
Hollywood has stolen that, and they have made it the most popular kind of
movies in the whole world. I mean, Hollywood is the real terrorist in the
real world. We're putting every film business in each European country out of
business because people would rather see our bad movies, really. So we're the
terrorists, and the people in each country are cooperating with us. They
bitch about it and they moan about it, but they pay to see them.

GROSS: What connections do you feel to Cecil B. DeMented?

Mr. WATERS: Well, certainly there are some things that did happen to me in
this. We used to run from the cops. We didn't know that you had to ask
permission, and we would have to get out and run and people would chase us.
We stole film to make movies before. We...

GROSS: Where'd you steal it from?

Mr. WATERS: A camera shop, actually. The leading lady worked in my first
movie, and she stole the film and the developing. So the first movie cost
zero, actually. The budget was zero. And I have that in there. Somebody
says--in the song "No Budget," they say, `We have a budget of zero.' But
later we didn't steal things, but we would illegally borrow them or pay people
to sneak--at one film university, we got all the editing equipment, and none
of the students got to use it because I had paid off--that was the only way I
could get it. So we were editing "Female Trouble," but really none of the
film students that were going to that school got to use the equipment--they
had paid to go. So there were some hard feelings. So you make a movie
however you can, in any such way.

I think I'm different than Cecil in the fact that I had a sense of humor about
myself. I wasn't willing to die to make a movie, and I cared what happened
after we shot it. Cecil's so insane. There's no editor. You never hear him
talk about post-production in a Cecil B. DeMented film. He's only alive when
he's making the movie.

GROSS: You also didn't kidnap a leading lady to star in your movies.

Mr. WATERS: No.

GROSS: But if you could have kidnapped a leading lady, when you were getting
started...

Mr. WATERS: Well, in those days...

GROSS: ...who would you have kidnapped?

Mr. WATERS: Well, in the beginning Jayne Mansfield, but she was already
dead, probably. But she was really Divine and I's biggest influence at the
time. Anita Ekberg I still love. I would have maybe kidnapped Anita Ekberg,
or Jayne Mansfield certainly. And Divine was my Jayne Mansfield. Or
Elizabeth Taylor, certainly, because Divine was my Elizabeth Taylor more than
any. The original influence was Jayne Mansfield, a blonde bombshell, which
Divine was in "Mondo Trasho," but not one that weighed 300 pounds. But later
Elizabeth Taylor was Divine's certainly favorite idol. He even smoked Salem
cigarettes because Elizabeth Taylor did.

And I finally met Elizabeth Taylor last year.

GROSS: Oh, you did?

Mr. WATERS: I was invited to her house for a July Fourth cookout, because her
staff was fans of mine, not Elizabeth Taylor. And I think they told her to
invite me. But it was great, and it was two days after, unfortunately,
Princess Di had died, so there were like helicopters overhead like writing
the--and stories like, `How dare Elizabeth Taylor have a party?' And I didn't
know what to do because it was outside and the helicopters were right overhead
and everybody was pretending they weren't there, so I just covered my bald
spot. That's all I figured to do for the photos. I knew they were taking
photos directly above me.

And I did talk to Elizabeth Taylor about how much I loved this movie she made
that everyone else hates called "Boom." And I show it at film festivals all
around the world now. It's called John Waters Presents "Boom," and it's based
on the Tennessee Williams play "The Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore."
It's a great failed art movie directed by Joseph Losey where she plays the
richest woman in the world who's dying and Richard Burton is the angel of
death. So I immediately told her how much I love this movie, and she got mad
because she thought I was making fun of her. She said, `That's a terrible
movie.' But then I convinced her that I wasn't.

But I don't know, I still really like Elizabeth Taylor. I think besides all
the great AIDS work she's done, she's really a real movie star. And Divine
idolized her and unfortunately never got to meet her, although Elton John had
it set up where they were going to meet. He was taking Divine on this plane
where Elizabeth was going to be and make something happen, I don't know. But
Elton John was very supportive of Divine; took him on stage in Madison Square
Garden. So he was going to introduce them and it didn't happen.

GROSS: You mentioned Anita Ekberg.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah.

GROSS: Isn't she one of, like, the Hollywood painters now? Didn't she have,
like, a painting show?

Mr. WATERS: No, that's Gina Lollobrigida, and she's a photographer. But
Anita Ekberg...

GROSS: No, no, no, no.

Mr. WATERS: Anita Ekberg, I don't think. She just made a movie called "The
Red Dwarf" or something, where she has sex with a dwarf in it or something. I
don't know. But she came back and I loved her interviews because she was like
grouchy. In all the press I read she was going to restaurants and they'd say,
`Would you like water?' and she'd say, `Why would I want water? I want wine.'
You know, it was great. She would just have a fit about wine in every
interview.

GROSS: So in your movie, Cecil B. DeMented and his gang kidnap Melanie
Griffith and they force her to star in this subversive film that they're
making.

Mr. WATERS: In the underground movie, but then she becomes one of them and
becomes a terrorist against mainstream movies.

GROSS: Why Melanie Griffith? Why did you choose her?

Mr. WATERS: Well, I had met Melanie Griffith in a Jonathan Demme movie I was
in called "Something Wild" where I played a used car salesman and I sell her a
used car. I met her the second time at Pia Zadora's birthday party. I met
her the third time at the San Sebastian Film Festival. I still didn't really
know her, but I suspected that she had to have a sense of humor. And then I
saw the Larry Clark movie "Another Day in Paradise" where she shoots up in her
neck and other areas, and I thought, `Well, she's taking chances,' so we had a
meeting and she was great. She came to the meeting with no makeup and a skull
T-shirt. Confidence, I thought that was great. And Antonio, her husband, had
certainly come from Pedro Almodovar movies, so I thought he might be
sympathetic, and I think he was. I think he was very much behind her doing
this movie also. And she had a sense of humor. And we had what they call a
Hollywood meeting where you just go and psych each other out and see if you
can stand each other for four months, and I think she's quite good in the
movie. I'm quite happy with her.

GROSS: Have you ever approached a Hollywood star who was appalled at the idea
of being in one of your films?

Mr. WATERS: I'm sure I have, but generally I wouldn't hear that. The agents
say it. You know, what means `go to hell' they translate to `She passes.'
That's like when your movie flops they say that. You know, `It--oh, bother.'
They always have these ridiculous Hollywood words. My most hideous new
Hollywood word I heard was, `They're frenemies.'

GROSS: Well...

Mr. WATERS: About people who sue each other but have lunch. That's called
frenemies.

GROSS: Wow.

Mr. WATERS: That was a gagger. That was a new one I heard.

GROSS: John Waters is my guest, and his new movie is called "Cecil B.
DeMented."

Now did you grow up feeling the same kind of antagonism toward Hollywood that
is expressed in this movie?

Mr. WATERS: No. No.

GROSS: Yeah, because you loved movie stars.

Mr. WATERS: I still love Hollywood. You know, I've always made fun of things
I love in my movies. When I was growing up, I had never thought I would ever
be in Hollywood. I wanted to make, in the beginning, the best underground
movie I could make. After that, the best midnight movie I could make. I
guess after that the best--we didn't call them independent movies, but the
best low-budget movie. And then when I made a Hollywood movie, I tried to
make fun of the Hollywood movies. And I don't know what I'm making today.
It's all those things put together, because the movie business is so--there's
a real gray area what's a Hollywood movie and what isn't today, and they're
the same almost.

So, no, I liked Hollywood. We mocked Hollywood and even the star system I had
in my early film. I didn't have friends. I wasn't famous. So we thought up
these personas, really, of I was the demented director in a way, and Divine
was, you know, my inflated Jayne Mansfield. And we even had almost a
Vaudeville act. When I would show my early movies, we would go to each city
and I would come out looking out like a deranged pimp hippie, basically, and
introduce the most beautiful woman in the world, and Divine would come out
dressed as the Divine character pushing a shopping cart with dead mackerels in
it. We'd throw it in the audience and we would hire the cutest hippie in each
city, and we had this police outfit that we had stolen and we would dress him
in that and a short-haired wig and then he would come out and try to arrest
Divine and Divine would strangle him to death. And that was our act. It was
like Vaudeville. We did it at midnight shows all the time. So that was the
only way we could promote the films. We didn't have any money.

GROSS: You know, in your movie, the gang of filmmakers breaks into a lot of
movie theaters and they get into a kung-fu house and the kung-fu audience is
on their side.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah.

GROSS: So what do you...

Mr. WATERS: They would be.

GROSS: ...think of kung-fu movies and the kung-fu audience? What connection
do you feel?

Mr. WATERS: Well, generally I used to go to--that theater, the Patterson,
was the real kung-fu theater, one of them in Baltimore. All the movie
theaters in the theater are the real theaters I grew up in. They're mostly
closed now. But I would go to karate films, usually it was mostly all men, by
themself, usually on probation. And they would like Cecil because he was a
criminal, not because he was an arty director, because as one even says to
Melanie, `Sign my parole card.' Now I've signed people's parole cards at book
signings, and I always find it touching.

And also in those theaters where rats used to be, and I actually used to see
rats when people would just laugh and put their feet up. So this is real
memories that did happen to me. I think a karate audience--you know, and this
is even more bizarre, because in "Cecil B. DeMented," the karate audience
saves Cecil B. DeMented from the G-rated family audiences that are chasing
him and trying to arrest him. Then Cecil escapes and goes to a porno theater
and in the porno theater the Teamsters try to get Cecil and the porno fans
come to his aid.

GROSS: You mention that the old theaters in which you used to go see movies
aren't really movie theaters anymore, and you have a whole kind of collage of
those old movie theaters in "Cecil B. DeMented" and one of them is a VFW post
and one of them is a big discount store. That's certainly happened in
Philadelphia in some of the theaters, too. Does it break your heart when you
see an old movie theater that's now a discount store?

Mr. WATERS: Does it break my heart? I'm not that nostalgic. I think what it
is is I like them there as ghosts. I hate it when they take the marquee down.
I don't mind if it's closed, boarded up and the marquee gets worse and worse
every year and rots and the glass breaks and there's the three letters left
are crooked and then there's one letter left--that's kind of fascinating to
me. And that was what the hippodrome was like in Baltimore was like where
they hide out. And there's another theater in Baltimore called the Town(ph),
that we filmed in, and in that theater I always remember, I was probably the
last paying customer. I went there right up to the end when they had the most
disreputable movies with the scariest audience you ever saw in your life. And
someone had carved in the lobby on the wall like graffiti, `If you come
through this door, you be kilt,' K-I-L-T. And the management didn't take it
down, which I thought was really kind of--well, I guess the thrill of going to
a horror movie. It was even scarier, you know, because of who--you were
scared about the movie and you were scared the audience would kill you. It
was really an exciting experience, moviegoing in those days.

GROSS: What qualifies as a scary movie audience for you?

Mr. WATERS: Well, scary movie audiences are basically people, that when
there's a lot of violence yell out, `I want to see more green.' I had never
heard of that term; green is gore. I didn't know that. Or basically that are
talking to themselves loudly that have nothing to do with the movie. People
that are on day passes from mental institutions. Or if the ticket price is
cheap enough there were people who lived there, basically. That is their
hotel. It gives a certain edge to the moviegoing experience.

GROSS: Did you ever see one of your films with an audience that you thought
was having an inappropriate response to your scene?

Mr. WATERS: No, my films don't work in exploitation audiences, I'm ashamed to
say. We tried it, it doesn't work, because there's irony, and they smell a
rat correctly and the rat is me. They work the best in the richest, smartest
neighborhoods, I'm embarrassed to admit.

GROSS: That's funny actually. But I could see how what you're saying may be
true.

Mr. WATERS: Inappropriate. Well, in the old days with my movies they'd try
to get publicity by saying that certain theaters would put sawdust down
because they said that people vomited. Well, they did, but not from the
movie. They were just drunk. But I took credit. I didn't reveal that for
many years later.

GROSS: My guest is John Waters. His new movie, "Cecil B. DeMented," has just
come out video and DVD. More after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

(Soundbite of music)

GROSS: My guest is John Waters. His new movie "Cecil B. DeMented" is about a
group of subversive filmmakers who make this underground movie that they hope
will destroy commercial cinema, and they come pretty close to destroying it
along the way. Now the Hollywood movie star they kidnap to star in their
movie is played by Melanie Griffith, and one of the things you have her do in
the movie, you set her hair on fire?

Mr. WATERS: Yes.

GROSS: Now the actress that Melanie Griffith plays in the movie isn't very
happy about this. I imagine Melanie Griffith herself wasn't very happy about
it, either.

Mr. WATERS: I didn't have any trouble with that because it was the
stuntwoman's hair who caught on fire.

GROSS: Oh. Oh, of course.

Mr. WATERS: And then it's superimposed with her face.

GROSS: I'm almost surprised that you would allow...

Mr. WATERS: Well, I'll tell you, you know...

GROSS: ...a stunt actor to do it and not force Melanie Griffith to do it
herself.

Mr. WATERS: Well, this is based on a real story in a real weird way. When
we were making "Pink Flamingos" where Divine ate dog feces, Mink Stole in it
was playing Connie Marble and she was challenging her, and I said to her then,
`Mink, would you set your hair on fire?' And she very wisely said, `No.' I
don't know what I was thinking. I was so nuts then that I thought, `Well,
it'll--we don't have st'--I never thought about special effects. I thought,
`We'll just throw a bucket of water on it, it'll be fine.' And it became kind
of legend, you know, with all the people I work with, the girl who said no.
Like there's now a book called that now, called the girl who said--she said
no. So Mink did very wisely, thank God. I'd probably be in prison and she'd
look like "Mask."

GROSS: That's right. That's right.

Mr. WATERS: So it was sort of, in a way, remembering that and sort of an
homage to Mink's very wise decision to say no to me at that time. And I
wasn't--I don't know what I was thinking about. I was just demented, I guess.
I didn't mean it to--I never thought Mink would be hurt. That was the last
thing I would want to do is hurt her. I was just carried away in my
filthiness, you know. I guess it was a battle of filth. So I remembered
that, and, of course, Melanie was not so uptight about that because, as I say,
it was a stuntwoman's hair on fire and it was put together with special
effects. She was more uptight at having to look, in the beginning how she
looks in the movie. It was much more horrifying to her. I mean you think
about it, she is the Revlon woman, and then we made her look--with her hair
set on fire it's all frizzled out and she has like punk makeup on and
everything. I think she looks great. I mean, she looks more beautiful than
the Revlon girl to me. But it's two very, very different universes she's
starring in.

GROSS: Gee, you were pretty irresponsible as a young filmmaker.

Mr. WATERS: Well, that's probably the most irresponsible, although maybe I
would have realized, if she had said yes, when as we started to do it, that we
shouldn't do this. It never got that far.

GROSS: As her eyes or nose started to melt.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah, there was another scene where Cookie said no, too--Cookie
Mueller, wisely. There was a scene that got cut out where she was supposed to
go with the TV while it was on, just smash it with an ax. And she wisely
called TV stores and they said, `Don't do that. It'll explode and
everything.' And, you know, I don't know, I just didn't think of special
effects then, obviously. If I had them in the Divine scene, certainly we
wouldn't be talking about that scene today, if it was like sallow, where they
used chocolate.

GROSS: Now I know you've been wanting to make "Cecil B. DeMented" for years,
because I remember you talking about it I forget how long ago.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah.

GROSS: But I'm wondering if any of your ideas changed over time, if the
things you wanted to satirize in the movie changed as Hollywood changed.

Mr. WATERS: Well certainly when I wrote "Cecil B. DeMented" was before
"Pecker," so it was really about five years ago when I first thought it up. I
did satirize new movies, the sequel of "Forrest Gump," the director's cut of
"Patch Adams." I certainly did new drafts of it afterwards. But at the same
time, a lot of it was the same. I forget, you know, you look at the first
drafts and then you look at the shooting scripts, certainly things have
changed. I loved it at one time, one of the French distributors, their notes
to me were `Make it weirder.' I thought, `Oh, my God, finally. This is the
best thing.' That's never happened in my whole life. It's usually the
complete opposite where `You can't have this,' `You can't have that.' So, I
mean, that's how much the business has changed, really, and this is an
international business, certainly. My films would never be financed if they
couldn't play everywhere in the world, all around the world. That's the only
reason they do, because they're modestly successful everywhere in the world,
which is enough on my budgets.

GROSS: Do you go to other countries and watch how your movies play to
audiences there?

Mr. WATERS: Well, certainly I've gone to film festivals, yes. The only time
I'm against dubbing, but I'm fascinated when I watch them dubbed, because I
can't believe that--I don't know, some of the things--to translate's very,
very hard, you know. I even did a glossary for "Pecker" explaining what each
one of these obscure American things meant in English so they could translate
it. And even on "Cecil B. DeMented" when it showed in Cannes this year, the
French spent a lot of time with the subtitles to make sure they were very
good, and the translator called me and said, `The only thing we can't
translate here is the fact that the French could never understand the concept
of a director's cut.' Every film is a director's cut, and in France it's a
sacrilege. They invented auteurs. So it's an inconceivable idea to the
French that there would be a cut of a film that the director didn't approve.

GROSS: John Waters. His latest movie, "Cecil B. DeMented," has just come out
on video and DVD. Our interview was recorded last summer. We'll hear more of
it in the second half of the show. I'm Terry Gross, and this is FRESH AIR.

(Soundbite of music)

(Credits given)

GROSS: This is National Public Radio.

(Soundbite of music)

Unidentified Man: (Singing) I'm not a juvenile delinquent.

Unidentified Woman: (Singing) No, no, no, no, no. No, no, no, no, no.

GROSS: Coming up, John Waters talks about his youth spies, and Henry Sheehan
reviews the new movie "Shadow of the Vampire."

(Soundbite of music)

Unidentified Woman: (Singing) Do the thing that's right, and you'll do
nothing wrong. Life will be so nice, you'll be in paradise. I know, because
I'm not a juvenile delinquent. Now listen boys and girls, you need not be
blue. Life is what you make of it, it all depends on you. I know, because
I'm not a juvenile delinquent. It's easy to be good, it's hard to be bad,
stay out of trouble and you'll be glad. Take this tip from me, and you will
see how happy you will be. Boys and girls, this is my story, and I have all
of my glory...

(Announcements)

GROSS: This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross, back with screenwriter and
director John Waters. He started his career making movies that were shocking
and hilarious in their bad taste. His latest movie, "Cecil B. DeMented," has
just been released on video and DVD. It's about a director who's more extreme
than Waters himself. DeMented is an independent director who declares war on
mainstream movies, kidnaps a Hollywood star and forces her to star in his
anti-Hollywood film. John Waters' other movies include "Pink Flamingos,"
"Polyester," "Hairspray" and "Pecker."

You are in your mid-50s now, I think.

Mr. WATERS: Fifty-four.

GROSS: Fifty-four. Do you still relate to, like, rebellious youth culture?

Mr. WATERS: Certainly. Way so. More--very much so, like the Seattle riots.
I thought--oh, God, I felt nostalgic. Kids should riot every once in a while.
I think each generation should have their own riots, very much so. I have
youth spies--people that tell me new groups. You have to. You know, I give
'em drinks in bars and they, you know, tell me a couple new good groups, and
then I'll go home and listen to 'em, but then I don't have to go out till four
in the morning.

GROSS: Now you've always liked, well, outlaw, you know, music whether
it's--'cause it's really noisy, or there's violent lyrics or what...

Mr. WATERS: I like all kinds of music.

GROSS: Right. Yeah. Oh, yeah.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah.

GROSS: You like novelty, dance hits.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah.

GROSS: Yeah. So you have everything from, you know, rap to Liberace on...

Mr. WATERS: Two psycho punk bands, especially the Locusts(ph).

GROSS: ...the soundtrack on your movie.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah.

GROSS: Why Liberace?

Mr. WATERS: Well, Liberace's always been a terrorist in his own right. And
at the end of the movie, Melanie has kind of lost of her mind. And...

GROSS: Is it terror of sequins or something?

Mr. WATERS: Well--but he is a terrorist, because to me it's so--his appeal
has never totally been explained, but all elderly women love him and don't
think he's gay. I mean, Liberace did sue a paper for saying he was gay and
win. Isn't that terrorism? And, you know, when he died that same paper in
London sued the estate to get the money back.

GROSS: Did they win?

Mr. WATERS: I don't know that. I'm sure they settled. I just went to the
Liberace museum in Las Vegas for the first time last week. And it was great.
I always liked Liberace. And I met him at the end. I wrote kind of a smart
aleck review of his book "The Things I Love" for Vogue magazine, but he called
me and said, oh, he loved the review, `I love it,' come to this dinner. And I
did, and I was so thrilled. I'm all for Liberace. I loved--even his
boyfriend wrote a book called "Behind the Candelabra," which I think
should have been beneath, but my favorite thing in it was supposedly Liberace
abused--Liberace forced him to have a face lift to look like Liberace. I
love--I want to start doing that now. `You have an appointment. Time to get
up. Don't be sitting around that pool all day. Remember Dr. So-and-so at
2:00.' Oh, it's just so surreal. It's my favorite kind of celebrity abuse
I've ever heard; for your boyfriend or girlfriend to have to be forced to turn
into you through plastic surgery. It's so great.

GROSS: Liberace sings on the track that you use...

Mr. WATERS: He sings a song called "Ciao(ph)."

GROSS: Yeah. I haven't heard him sing before. I didn't realize he sang.

Mr. WATERS: Oh, yeah. He could sing. And this was--from what I gather,
another great music spy in Baltimore who's helped me a lot, named Larry, had
this record. And it was originally, from what I can gather, a--ad for a
perfume called Ciao, and it was the commercial. But I really believe that if
Melanie Griffith was losing her mind and being led to a police wagon, in her
head she might be singing, `Don't say goodbye, say ciao.' It's so nauseating,
this song. It's almost like tripping when you hear it, to me. I mean, it's
hallucinogenic it's so schmaltzy. And it's Liberace at his best and his worst
and his most confusing.

GROSS: Well, we can only pause now and listen to it.

(Soundbite of "Ciao" by Liberace)

LIBERACE: Never say goodbye, say ciao. Till we meet again, say ciao. Though
the time has come for us to part, you always will remain within my heart. So
please don't shed a tear, say ciao. You'll be always near somehow. Time will
disappear, so hold me, dear, and never say goodbye, say ciao. When words are
hard to find, to say what's on my mind...

GROSS: That's Liberace singing "Ciao" from the soundtrack of John Waters'
movie, "Cecil B. DeMented." Now the target of your movie, "Cecil B.
DeMented," is commercial cinema. But...

Mr. WATERS: I might disagree a little with you on that one.

GROSS: OK. Disagree, and then I'll ask my question.

Mr. WATERS: OK.

GROSS: Oh, you're done disagreeing. OK.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah.

GROSS: OK. But it seems to me, independent film has a lot of sins to answer
for now, too.

Mr. WATERS: I was just going--all right.

GROSS: Oh, OK. Good.

Mr. WATERS: There are bad independent movies.

GROSS: Very.

Mr. WATERS: Just as much whiny--Cecil might blow up Sundance. I mean, what
I'm saying is he's too insane, he doesn't like any movies but his own. He
would criticize completely independent films too about your grandmother and
how--what a wonderful person she was. I would say that Cecil's
beyond--he's--all movies get on his nerves that aren't radical enough. And
the same way I felt; I don't judge a film if I like it or nor by its budget.
I can love an $80 million movie, and hate an $80 movie. It doesn't matter so
much on how much it costs as what the movie itself is.

GROSS: Well, how has it affected your filmgoing habits and stuff to have this
proliferation of independent movies, you know, on low budget, some of which
are really interesting and others are just really dull?

Mr. WATERS: Well, when you say interesting that, to me, is usually when
people--after they see a movie, if they say, `It was really interesting,' that
means, `I hated it.'

GROSS: Interesting. Right.

Mr. WATERS: And they don't know what else to say. That's the best green room
perjury, they call that. `It was interesting.' Or the other one they say is
`You've topped yourself,' because that could mean, `I hate it,' too. There's
all different things that you can say at a screening that you've learned these
buzzwords early, because you have to go to screenings all the time--people
that are in it. And afterwards, the whole time you're watching it, thinking,
`Oh, please be over. I'm gonna kill myself. I hate this. Hi. It was
interesting.'

GROSS: When you started making movies, there was no independent film circuit,
there wasn't a Sundance Film Festival, there wasn't this whole circuit of
international film festivals at which you could show independent films so you
had to, like, find places for your movies. And your movies helped create the
whole midnight movie circuit.

Mr. WATERS: Well, when I first started, the underground film world I wanted
to get into was totally New York based, and they were very chauvinistic. They
wouldn't even look at my movies 'cause I was from Baltimore. And New York was
the last place my movie had played. After I'd made "Mondo Trasho" and
"Multiple Maniacs," none of them played till after "Pink Flamingos" became a
success in New York. They had played in LA, San Francisco, Province Town,
Philadelphia--they had played in it. And everywhere but New York. So there
was nobody looking for my kind of movie then, believe me. And nobody said
they were good, except finally Fran Lebowitz in one of her first things she
ever wrote for Interview magazine. Nobody liked them. But in those days,
there were square critics so it helped us--we used all the negative reviews.
That could never ever happen today. Even on "Serial Mom," I believe we got
two thumbs down and I wanted to put that in the ad with all the good reviews
and two thumbs down; they wouldn't.

It can't happen today because all film critics are hip. Nobody's rising to
any bait. They're too smart. And in those days, when all the critics would
say `a septic tank explosion' `it must be seen,' or `the most filthy, worst
movie ever made,' that helped us. That's impossible today. That couldn't
happen, and it couldn't help me.

GROSS: Well...

Mr. WATERS: If anything it hurts me because that's my competition; my old
movies that--I bet there'll never be one review of this movie that doesn't
mention my old movies in the first paragraph. That happened last time. It
happens every time now.

GROSS: Wow.

Mr. WATERS: So that's OK. They remember my old movies.

GROSS: Is there anything left of the midnight movie circuit?

Mr. WATERS: No. I don't think--to make a midnight movie is suicide 'cause
where would you show it? I mean, I'm sure "Rocky Horror" still plays...

GROSS: Exactly. Where would you show it?

Mr. WATERS: ...somewhere, and people--the last of the cult still comes in
dressed in those outfits, but, believe me those people are not exactly cutting
edge.

GROSS: Yeah. Yeah. I know. Yeah. But I guess you really couldn't do like
the midnight movie thing in the morning...

Mr. WATERS: You don't need to because you play two, four, six, eight and 10
in the big commercial chain now if you had "Rocky Horror."

GROSS: Right.

Mr. WATERS: Every movie theater is looking for the next "Blair Witch," the
next "Gumo(ph)," the next "Pink Flamingos." They're looking for the next
weirdo movie from nowhere.

GROSS: Now is that part of what you mean when you say in your movie, when
Cecil B. DeMented says, `The Hollywood system stole our sex and co-opted our
violence so there's nothing left for us to do'?

Mr. WATERS: Well, in a way that's true, except I think what they really did
was end all exploitation. I mean, there's blacksploitation, sexploitation and
violent movies. Once Hollywood made them, those genres were gone. I mean,
saving Ryan's--"Saving Private Rhyme"--I'm saying "Rhyme"--"Saving"--"Shaving
Ryan's Privates"--that's a porno movie. I get 'em mixed up. But
"Saving"--What's the real title? I can't remember anymore. "Saving"...

GROSS: "Saving Private Ryan."

Mr. WATERS: Yeah. With--was a gore film really. Without Herschell Gordon
Lewis we could have never had that. The first 20 minutes were blood feast
basically. It would have been exploitation.

GROSS: Did you see "Shaving Ryan's Privates"?

Mr. WATERS: Yeah. I saw both. "Shaving Ryan's Privates" spoke to me more.

GROSS: Did you go to a theater, or see it on video?

Mr. WATERS: I saw it on the video actually. I'm really for people to go to
porno theaters in person. It's for the VCR impaired. It has to be.

GROSS: There aren't many left, I think.

Mr. WATERS: Well, there's one we shot in Baltimore, the Apex, where an
Alicia Webb(ph) porno movie was playing. And I was really happy--it's a porno
theater at peace with the community. And it's made friends and there's
churches around and everything. It's been there forever. So I didn't--I was
afraid--the marquee says `An all anal evening,' and I was afraid to put the L
up until the last minute. I didn't want him to get him trouble with the
neighbors. So I just had `An all ana evening.' And people kept saying,
`What's that mean?' And then just when I did the show, I put the L in because
I didn't want to get him in trouble with the neighbors.

GROSS: My guest is John Waters. His new movie "Cecil B. DeMented" has just
come out on video and DVD. More after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

(Soundbite of music)

GROSS: My guest is screenwriter and director John Waters. His latest movie,
"Cecil B. DeMented," has just come out on video and DVD.

I want to get back to what we were talking about, about keeping up with bands
and with youth culture and stuff. Are there things about pop culture today,
like youth-oriented pop culture today, that kind of alienate you? That you're
really uninterested in?

Mr. WATERS: No. Well, let me think, I'm sure there is, but, like what?
Music? No, I like gangster rap. I like techno music. I like K hole
music(ph). I like that.

GROSS: K hole music.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah. They get in a K hole and they took too much Special K. I
had that in a movie, where you can't--you do the same motion over and over.
You can't get out of it. That's like an overdose on these designer drugs they
all take now. I have to spy on drugs, too. The drug culture--there's new
drugs I've never even heard of that people take. I mean, I'm an old fogy.
The last one--you know, really. The new drugs sound horrible to me. Who
would want to take Ecstasy and love everybody? God. Sounds like hell to me.
So I'm not tempted to take drugs anymore. These new ones just sound like the
worst kind of possible experience, like running up to people I hate and going,
`I love you. Want to hear what happened to me a child?' Oh, God, help. So
like what? Like, tell me what gets on your nerves, that alienates you in
youth culture.

GROSS: No, I was wondering if there's any bands that are, like, really
popular that you feel like people expect you to like that you really don't.

Mr. WATERS: Oh, you mean like 'N Sync, or the most really popular ones that
are so mainstream? I find them kind of clever. I mean, to me I like seeing
them. I don't even know what they sound like. I've never heard 'N Sync in my
life, or I probably have and don't know it. But I don't like Hanson. I
love how they look. I like to read about them. I don't have to hear them. I
like to see their image, and what they do with that image. I kind of am
interested in all that by reading--I have--I'm a total magazine junkie. I get
like 120, I think, now magazines a month. And I read them all, so I know
about all these TV people. I've never seen the show, but I know who they are,
but I don't know what they do really because I just read who they're marrying
or who they're having affairs with. But I know famous people for all the
wrong reasons; for the bad things in their life.

GROSS: Right. I'm not sure if I've asked you this before or not, but some of
the actors and the actresses who you've worked with over the years have been
very extreme in how they dress and do their hair, and, you know, Divine being
the best example of that.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah.

GROSS: And you don't fit into that category yourself; at least not now. For
example, you're wearing a striped shirt with, you know, a jacket and slacks.

Mr. WATERS: Well, Divine didn't look like Divine in real life either.

GROSS: Right.

Mr. WATERS: And most of--when we were young we looked like lunatics. We
dressed...

GROSS: Nothing's pierced on your face.

Mr. WATERS: Yeah. No, no, nothing's pierced. If I was young...

GROSS: No tattoos in sight.

Mr. WATERS: No, I have no tattoos. If I was young, I would have had
piercings I'm sure, because I had very long hair when I was young, which was
the piercings of that day for a man.

GROSS: Right.

Mr. WATERS: I like piercings. I think kids look cute with a pierce--the
eyebrow pierced. I tell the parents, `Don't worry about the piercing. They
grow back, it's the tattoos that are going to look bad.' No matter how butch,
no matter how sexy you are at 20, your tattoos at 50 will make you look very
worn-out and somebody's going to make a fortune taking them all off all these
kids. But I think tattoos can look good if you're--especially if you're a
convict, it's a good look, especially if you're released. It is a certain
edge it adds to it. But I'm against like pretty tattoos. I like ones that
are just all black. That's my favorite new one, because that really hurts.

GROSS: But...

Mr. WATERS: Just a solid big band of all black. That's the kind I like.

GROSS: But outside of like long hair, have you ever been into the theater of
presentation, the theater of how you look?

Mr. WATERS: Oh, God, yes. When I was young, I used to wear a silver holster
with a gun and spurs, a silver leather jacket. I had like yellow wraparound
bug sunglasses. I used to wear cowboy shirts from thrift shops that had
padded guitars all over them. I had a shirt that had shrunken heads on it.

GROSS: Did your parents ever send you to a psychiatrist when you were young?

Mr. WATERS: Yes. Well, they had to. When I was expelled from college, they
said, `He needs extensive psychiatric treatment.' They always used to say I
need psychiatric treatment. Yeah, I went and I didn't--and those shrinks
were--it didn't work because I didn't want to go. Later, when I went on my
own it worked. I mean--well, my version of working--my version of mental
health which is what you see here today.

GROSS: Why did you go on your own?

Mr. WATERS: Well, because I was, like, feeling unhappy about a few things
which I don't usually feel. So it was good, and I went back for a touch-up
once.

GROSS: So when you were sent against your will to the psychiatrist...

Mr. WATERS: Yeah.

GROSS: ...what was their approach?

Mr. WATERS: Well, I went--the only reason I went was to get out of the Army,
because I figured that I was nuts. And this was when they had the draft.
And I went through the whole thing, and I would begrudgingly go. And then I
got my draft notice, and the shrink said, `John, I believe the Army would be
the best thing in the world for you.'

GROSS: Oh, no.

Mr. WATERS: I thought, `You quack.' Right, because I knew I could get out of
the Army. It was easy. I said I was gay, I wet my bed, I was a junkie. I
checked every single thing. And then the guy said to me, `Is this true?' with
this look of disgust on his face. And I, with a casual toss of my long, oily,
thin hair, said `Yeah,' and got sent home. I didn't even have to take the
physical. Now today, I know, we got to fight for gay rights and we got to
join the Army. I--the last place I want to be is get married or join the
Army. I don't get it. Maybe that's how I feel alienated from youth culture.
Although if straight people can have seven bad marriages, gay people should be
allowed at least one good one.

GROSS: So were you making movies at that time already, when you got out of
the draft?

Mr. WATERS: Yeah--well, yeah. I made the first one when I was 17. Right
after I was expelled from NYU. No, I'd made one before that in high school,
then I went away to college and, yes, I made one eight-millimeter movie. If
you could call it a movie. I'll use the term loosely.

GROSS: Do you have any home movies at all?

Mr. WATERS: Yeah, just one. No, no...

GROSS: I mean...

Mr. WATERS: ...half my films.

GROSS: No, I mean like movies your parents made of you growing up.

Mr. WATERS: Yes.

GROSS: Your birthday parties...

Mr. WATERS: They had--some of that was in Steve Yaeger's documentary about
me, "Divine Trash."

GROSS: I hadn't seen that. Yeah.

Mr. WATERS: And in bad taste--they have some of that. Yes, my footage--yes,
eight-millimeter movies my parents have certainly. I don't have them.

GROSS: How do you feel when you see those?

Mr. WATERS: Well, you look at it and it looks so happy. When you looking
you're thinking, `Why did I ever need to go to a shrink? You know, I'm with
my parents in a nice house. My parents never did anything that horrible I can
remember. Why am I this nuts?'

GROSS: What were your birthday parties like?

Mr. WATERS: Oh, themes. I had pirate parties where I got to be Captain Hook.
I had a pirate party every year so I could be Captain Hook. And once I was
the Wicked Witch of the West. The only time I was ever in drag in my entire
life. And just because I wanted to be green. I didn't care about the dress.
I wanted to have green skin and I was always a Disney villain every year. And
I had costume parties a lot certainly and they do have pictures of that, the
pirate party. And I was Captain Hook. And I always--I'd put that coat
hanger--it's a great game. I've taught my nieces and nephews to play it.
Take a coat hanger, you bend it, you put it up your sleeve and you, too, can
have a hook. And it's a good look. A hook adds a definite edge to a dull
outfit.

GROSS: Do you know what your next movie's going to be?

Mr. WATERS: Well, sort of I do, but I haven't written it yet. I'm just
begin--I have notebooks and I have millions of notes and pictures turn out. I
want to do a movie that takes place, again, very much in the real blue-collar
world about sex addicts and how they deal with their problems in the
community. And I think it's going to be called "A Dirty Shame,"(ph) because I
love that. And Baltimore--people's mothers always used to say, `That's a
dirty shame, what happened to so-and so.' Meaning not that but just that it
was an expression I really like. It'd be a great trailer. You know, you show
different people and it'd be like, `It's a dirty shame' about each one.
People in the neighborhood saying, `That's a dirty shame, what happened to
her.'

GROSS: That reminds me of a fake movie title that you used in "Cecil B.
DeMented," which is "Some Kind of Happiness."

Mr. WATERS: Yeah.

GROSS: Where'd you get the title from?

Mr. WATERS: I don't know. I just had to think up, like, sappy titles of
romantic movies. Although I feel that I have some kind of happiness. I think
it's...

GROSS: What kind?

Mr. WATERS: I don't know. Some kind. To me it sounds like a very Douglas
Sirk title.

GROSS: Oh, yeah.

Mr. WATERS: "All That Heaven Allows" or that kind of '50s kind of thing
that--titles that they don't have anymore. Tennessee Williams always had such
good titles, you know. I mean, and they don't have those kind of titles that
are long that don't really mean anything. Like a--I don't know, like "Bus
Riley's Back in Town." I mean, that's a great title. Like "The Dark at the
Top of the Stairs." William Inge had great titles. We don't have those kind
of drama titles anymore.

GROSS: Well, I want to thank you so much, John Waters, for talking with us.

Mr. WATERS: Thank you for having me. It's good to be back in person with
you.

GROSS: John Waters' latest movie, "Cecil B. DeMented," has just come out on
video and DVD. Our interview was recorded last summer.

Coming up, Henry Sheehan reviews the movie "Shadow of the Vampire."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Review: New movie "Shadow of the Vampire"
TERRY GROSS, host:

"Shadow of the Vampire" is a new film about the making of the silent film
classic "Nosferatu." John Malkovich stars as F.W. Murnau, the director of
"Nosferatu," and Willem Dafoe plays the mysterious actor Max Schreck, who
starred in Murnau's film as the vampire Count Orloc. Film critic Henry
Sheehan has a review.

HENRY SHEEHAN reporting:

Just two years ago, the oft-slighted Orson Welles came in for some trashing in
Tim Robbins' "The Cradle Will Rock." Now "Shadow of the Vampire," which is at
least a better movie, takes some cheap shots at the pioneering German
filmmaker F.W. Murnau. It takes an old myth about the actor who starred in
Murnau's 1922 vampire tale "Nosferatu" and uses it to hammer away at Murnau,
in particular, and directors in general. To do so, the filmmakers have had to
completely distort the historical Murnau's character, turning him from the
reserved, good-tempered and even charming figure he actually was into a
B-movie caricature of a mad scientist.

"Nosferatu" was adapted from the novel "Dracula" with some alterations. Among
the most significant was the figure of the vampire who, unlike the suave
continental figure in the book, was bald, big-eared, cadaverous and ratlike in
the movie. The vampire, rechristened Count Orloc, was played by Max Schreck,
an obscure if physically striking performer who has remained a mysterious
figure over the years. Adding to his tantalizing lack of biography, his name
was an obvious pseudonym. `Schreck' is the German word for `fright' or
`terror.'

Screenwriter Stephen Katz, who is the originator of "Shadow of the Vampire,"
based his story on decades of persistent, light-hearted speculation that
Schreck really was a vampire. In the movie, Murnau is a crazed perfectionist
whose pursuit of realism has driven him into forbidding eastern European
mountains where he finds an actual vampire. The filmmaker offers the monster
a deal: if he will portray his bloodsucking kind in a movie, the director
will let him actually feast on his leading lady at the movie's climax.

"Shadow of the Vampire" begins with the first day of "Nosferatu's" shoot, and
goes on to detail the problems of working with a real vampire, most of which
arise from his unslakable thirst. These problems can be funny, and thanks to
Willem Dafoe's intelligent and surprisingly open interpretation of the
vampire, simultaneously frightful, endearing and sad. Taking his cues from
Katz's script, Dafoe emphasizes the monster's advanced age, making him a
cranky observer of his own decrepitude. The short-tempered Schreck even
argues with John Malkovich's Murnau over his out-of-control eating habits,
which have started to fell members of the crew.

(Soundbite of "Shadow of the Vampire")

Mr. JOHN MALKOVICH ("F.W. Murnau"): How dare you! How dare you destroy my
photographer! You idiot!

Mr. WILLEM DAFOE ("Max Schreck"): Did I kill some of your people, Murnau? I
can't remember.

Mr. MALKOVICH: We have an arrangement!

Mr. DAFOE: Don't pretend you mourn her, Doctor. I know you.

(Soundbite of breathing)

Mr. MALKOVICH: Why him, you monster? Why not the script girl?

Mr. DAFOE: (Chuckles) The script girl? I'll eat her later.

Mr. MALKOVICH: No, you will not. Our bargain--you agreed not to hurt my
people! Listen to me. Do you understand? This requires that I go back to
Berlin to find another photographer and then to fly him back here. And you,
you will control yourself while I am away.

Mr. DAFOE: I don't think we need the writer any longer.

Mr. MALKOVICH: I don't expect you to understand this, and I am loathe to
admit it myself, but the writer is necessary. All my crew is necessary. Do
you understand?

SHEEHAN: As you can tell, Katz is operating from a certain amount of
professional resentment. Murnau's grudging protection of his own writer is a
satirical jab at writer-director relationships.

Director E. Elias Merhige, whose previous feature was the creepily effective
experimental film "Begotten," largely plays off Dafoe's vampire, turning
the movie into a visually clever character fantasy. While Murnau went to
great lengths to shoot on location, Merhige concentrates on the extravagant
possibilities offered by stage sets, with their odd perspectives so suited for
theatrical entrances and exits.

Unfortunately, we can't follow these stylistic flourishes to the point of
ignoring Malkovich's Murnau. Malkovich doesn't really turn in a character
study. He just does another of his madman bits, offering a familiar mix of
intense stares and loud, abrupt line readings.

The problem isn't just the banal performance by Malkovich. It's the banal
conception that underlies it. "Shadow" wants to shock us with the notion that
film directors are monsters themselves, that they suck the life out of their
collaborators in an ego-driven, creative frenzy. There's nothing in Murnau's
career to support such a charge. It's more like a masochistic fantasy of
cowed and aggrieved writers stewing in their own powerlessness. And that
fantasy is one `schreck' that needs a stake driven through its heart.

GROSS: Henry Sheehan is film critic for The Orange County Register.

(Credits)

GROSS: We'll close with the music of Jack McDuff, who played soul jazz on the
Hammond B-3 organ. He died Tuesday in a Minneapolis nursing home of an
apparent heart attack which followed a series of small strokes. He was 74.

(Soundbite of Jack McDuff recording)

(Credits)

GROSS: This is NPR, National Public Radio.
Transcripts are created on a rush deadline, and accuracy and availability may vary. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Please be aware that the authoritative record of Fresh Air interviews and reviews are the audio recordings of each segment.