Polyester (1981)

 French provincial
They do their best
To stay neutral
Expressionless, ah-hah,
Come on upstairs
Meet your polyester queen

What can I say? That song gets in your head and sets up shop.

Welcome back to another round of the Criterion backlog challenge.

As discussed last time, this month we're focusing in on one director – the weird, the wild, the proudly filthy John Waters. Kicking this off, we're starting with his first foray into the (relative) mainstream, Polyester.

Up top, two general notices:

First, I want to tip my hat to one of my old college film professors. I enrolled in Professor Noletti's course on film genre the year he taught melodrama. It was thanks to that course and its deep dive into Douglas Sirk that I got that much more of what Waters was going for here. So thank you, sir, wherever you may be. This may not have been the influence you intended, but damn if I'm not grateful for helping me appreciate the joke of this film more.

And for the record, I'd say Sirk's work is worth seeking out, but that's for another time.

Next, a general preface regarding the film's star, Divine. Yes, in real life, Divine was a man, and as far as all reports show, was not transgender. Having said that, I am still opting to use the her pronoun, as Divine is treated as a persona independent from Glenn Milstead. Just getting that out there now.

Or, as Waters himself has put it best:
"Divine didn't want to be a woman,
Divine wanted to be Godzilla!"

Okay. We all good? Everyone got their Odorama cards ready? Great. Let's dive on in!

Parody in film is, and always has been, a hard type of comedy to get right. For every Blazing Saddles or Airplane!, there's any number of misfires (see, just about anything else the Zuckers worked on, save for the Hot Shots! films.)

Which, ultimately, became what I wound up hinging this write-up on. Why is Polyester one of the spoofs that works where so many others don't?

I can think of a number of reasons, but two in particular stand out and go hand in hand.

The first of these, cliché as it may sound, is love. It's not a necessary requirement, but there is something to be said for riffing a genre you love for a full feature vs just trying to make a film out of something you are uninterested in or actively dislike. The latter isn't impossible, but it is more difficult, as you are less invested, and less likely to find those extra angles to play with compared to a filmmaker whose mockery is affectionate.

In Polyester's case, Waters has made a movie that is a classic Sirkian melodrama at heart – a housewife's life is beset by tragedies and finds new love. It's not any one film, but it's written in the vein of them. That classic story is then run through the filter of Waters's signature cinematic batshit. As outlandish and absurd as it gets, at no point does Waters feel like he's disdaining the trappings of the genre, or acting like he's smarter than them. At its core, this movie still looks to them as a map. Most of the silliness comes from him simply turning up the drama up to the proverbial 11.

The other reason this succeeds is Divine's performance as the film's put upon heroine, Francine Fishpaw. It's a change for Divine compared to her earlier work. When one mentions her with Waters, the first roles that come to mind tend to be the wonderfully brash, over the top characters like Babs Johnson or Dawn Davenport. Compared to those, Francine is a 180 degree shift – she brings her share of the over the top moments, but compared to everyone else, she is the grounded one. In her own words, she's a good Christian woman (and for a time, alcoholic) maneuvering a world populated with gleeful sleaze mongers, coked up old ladies, foot-stomping maniacs, and former teen heartthrob Tab Hunter as a love interest with a wild dark side.

and credit where it's due - Hunter is clearly
having a field day playing the increasingly unhinged
Todd Tomorrow.

I could keep going with outlining all the movie's delightful absurdity (all I will say besides the above - “I never wanted to use macrame to kill!”) but it all comes down to one thing – Divine's performance is a grounding force for the film. If Francine was as outlandish and crazy as everyone else, the movie would lose its plot and run completely off the rails. It could still be entertaining, but it would be untethered and likely collapse before crossing the finish line. Instead, we get a funny, bizarre movie that Divine does a titan's job of keeping together on her good Christian shoulders.

In closing, I will note (as I should have at the start) John Waters is not a filmmaker for everyone. I feel like recommending, say, Pink Flamingos to someone sight unseen MIGHT be an act of abuse.

Having said that, if you have any interest in seeing any of his films, Polyester is a great way to test the waters. A lot of his signature craziness, but also with more of the structure than his earlier Dreamland productions.

So if this sounds like it could be fun, by all means, seek it out.

And don't worry, you don't HAVE to use the Odorama card.

That's it for now. Waters month continues as next time we probe the immortal question – who wants to die for art?

Till then