Director John Waters goes by many names. Sometimes referred to as “The Prince of Puke,” “The Anal Ambassador” or “The Pope of Trash” — the latter famously bestowed upon him by author William S. Burroughs — there are few filmmakers with a reputation as repugnant as Waters’.
From his early works known as the “Trash Trilogy,” consisting of “Multiple Maniacs,” “Pink Flamingos” and “Female Trouble,” to his later, bigger-budget films “Cry-Baby” and “Serial Mom,” John Waters has built a career on scathing reviews and making audiences squirm.
Over the past half-decade, he has developed a cult following of not just his films but also his scandalous eccentric persona.
On Oct. 22, as part of The Vermont International Film Festival’s programming, Waters will visit Burlington to provide live commentary on “Female Trouble.”
VTIFF’s screening of “Female Trouble” is currently sold out. To find more information about the event, visit https://vtiff.org/events/female-trouble/.
Ahead of the event, the Vermont Cynic’s own Natalie Richardson-Wymore had the opportunity to speak with him about festivals, filmmaking and watching movies that make you feel bad.
NRW: Okay, so have you been to Vermont to do a film festival before?
JW: You know, I’ve been doing this for 50 years, so I know I have been in Vermont in my life somewhere, but I don’t think here [at VTIFF].
NRW: How did you end up with this event?
JW: Oh, I don’t know. I have 51 shows on the road this year, and three agents. They probably contacted the agent that does all my bookings. I love to come places that I haven’t been. The Vermont International Film Festival sounds great.
NRW: How do you feel about festivals? How do they impact your view of films and filmmaking?
JW: There are two reasons for film festivals — to start the word of mouth with opinion makers and the press, and to get a deal to distribute it. Getting a deal to distribute it is the most important thing. But, there are festivals that are more towards the market, like [Toronto International Film Festival]. To position yourself for prestige and that kind of thing, [you want] Cannes and the New York Film Festival. Sundance is the same thing for the Oscars. Each festival has a different niche audience or thing they do.
NRW: So generally, would you say film festivals are important?
JW: Yes, very important, more so today than ever, because young people, weirdly, aren’t seeing art films as much as they did, and old people were the ones that did go and they stopped after Covid-19.
They can still deliver, though, movies can still deliver.
But I miss movie ads, I miss critics having power. Today, it’s all online, and you have to figure it out yourself. It’s hard to get the word of mouth going, it used to be much easier. I used bad reviews. The first film festival I ever tried out for, they stopped the film in the middle and said it was pernicious, and called the tax people, so I couldn’t have a premiere in a church. So that was what I would call a bad review.
NRW: When you started, were you barred from festivals? Or were they a welcoming space?
JW: No, no. I mean, “Pink Flamingos” was shown at Cannes. I went to practically every festival there ever was. They were a big part of building my career from the very beginning. I was never banned from them. No, I was banned from the theater, the church, not film festivals. They like films that cause trouble.
NRW: What does it mean to you to be involved in festivals?
JW: It’s a way to bring people to town, you know, to get them to meet other filmmakers. You’re getting your film out there with people that have pull in the business. A lot of people that run film festivals go to other festivals to see what films to put in theirs, too. So, it’s all about word of mouth and hitting the audience of people that have influence.
NRW: I read that you’ve selected movies to show at the Maryland Film Festival. Tell me about that, what it means to share films with people.
JW: I always pick a movie that maybe people haven’t seen, that is a hard one to like. I introduce it and show it. I’m getting my 10 Best list in New York Magazine every year. So basically, I am a curator, and I’m getting people to see movies that they may not want to see.
I never understand when people say, ‘Oh, I just want a movie to make me feel good.’ I hate movies that do that. I like movies that make me feel bad. I like something that changes how I think. I don’t like easy films. I like hard films to like, and film festivals have an audience that often agrees with that theory.
NRW: What is your criteria for these movies that you promote?
JW: Well, they’re not preachy, but they surprise people, and they change how you think through humor. Humor is political, and I think these days it’s impossible to embarrass the enemy anymore. If you can get people to laugh, they’ll stop and listen to you. Then you have sex with them. Later is when you change people’s minds.
The Children of God cult used to do that. They’d send women out, they called it “flirty fishing.” They’d pick up men, have sex with them, and then talk about Jesus and convert them. So we need to do the same thing. We can call it a “Dirty Trick.”
NRW: What do next steps look like after a film festival? Or what did they look like for you when you were premiering your films?
JW: Well, I tried everything. I mean, I made it up. First, I made underground movies, then midnight [movies], then independent [films], then Hollywood. And I guess now I make Hollywood underground. I always figured out a way to make it work. The films have to make money. They have to do well.
I always say that if after the person you’re sleeping with and your mother, you have one more person that likes your film, your career has started.
NRW: How would you define “Hollywood underground?”
JW: Well, my last film was “A Dirty Shame,” it got an NC-17 rating. It was a comedy about sex addicts, but it was distributed by Warner Brothers, and I had a Hollywood deal to make it with Tracey Ullman starring.
So I’m taking the subject matter, and the writing, and the insanity from underground movies and putting it in a Hollywood vehicle at the same time.
I always said I made exploitation films for art theaters, and that was satirizing a genre that never was in the first place.
NRW: What was the transition from midnight movies to Hollywood budget films like for you as a filmmaker?
JW: It was gradual. You know, I bought a house. If you don’t want notes from studio executives, make a film with your cell phone. If you want to buy a house, you’ve got to take notes and have test screenings. It’s just a basic math problem. But I always wanted to make movies that did well.
You know, I always thought each one of them were commercial in their own way, and I tried to make them that way. I always wanted them to be hit, certainly.
NRW: What’s it like to revisit your older films now, given your newfound respectability? For example, you’re screening “Female Trouble” here in Burlington at VTIFF in a couple of weeks.
JW: I built a career on bad reviews, and now I’m so respectable I could puke. When that movie came out, it was not a success. People thought it was “Pink Flamingos’” poor sister. Now it’s the most quoted from all my movies, and probably the favorite Divine movie of all my movies that are playing today.
Who would have ever thought that The Criterion Collection would release “Female Trouble?” Just seeing “Janus Films presents ‘Female Trouble’” is, to this day, one of the most ironic moments. Who would have ever thought the Academy Awards would give me a 12-room museum show in Hollywood with all the stuff from my early films? It just gives young people hope that anything can happen.
NRW: So finally, what’s a great film that you’ve seen recently?
JW: The movie “Eddington” by Ari Aster.
NRW: What about it stuck with you?
JW: That there was absolutely nobody to root for.
