52 Pick-Up # 11 – Multiple Maniacs (1970)

“I think Divine made drag queens hipper because they were really square before he came along. Van and I wanted Divine’s look to scare hippies, because those are the people who went to see underground movies. If you watch that documentary The Queen, all of those drag queens wanted to be Miss America. They were all trying to dress like their mothers back then, but Divine didn’t wanna be a woman—he wanted to be Godzilla!” – John Waters

Okay, so normally I don't start these with a quote, but given this movie and this quote, this one demanded it.

With that, welcome back for the 11th go of 52 Pick-Up, a year long dive into my cinematic to do list. After promising this two weeks ago (and again, sorry about that) we're back on track this week. Coming on the heels of last week's excellent but bleak political thriller, it's time to go back into Uncharted Waters and continue to explore the remaining parts of John Waters's filmography. For this month, that involves his 1970 sophomore effort Multiple Maniacs.

Last time I did a John Waters movie here, I had reflected that, if I came into it early into my journey into his filmography, I might have liked it more. I bring this up because, the more I think of it, I feel like Multiple Maniacs is the reverse of this idea for me. Coming into this near the end of the run through John Waters's movies enhances the appreciation of it for me as a milestone in his career. A milestone that led to me almost subtitling this entry 'Dawn of the Divine.'

I feel like if this had been one of my first encounters with Waters as a filmmaker, it might not have landed as much for me. I don't think I would have hated it, but the looser narrative and the flow of events might have just not landed as much. Watched now, especially seeing the films that came immediately after (including Female Trouble, which at the time of this writing is still my favorite Waters movie) I don't see as much the kind of less formed parts, but the pieces that would become more concentrated in the movies that followed.

On the other side of this in the timeline, this was the movie Waters made following this debut, Mondo Trasho. In the larger arc of Waters lore, Trasho is a movie that mainly holds value for the circumstances around it rather than the movie itself – i.e. it's his first movie, and one that will likely stay out of print due to the music rights issues. It's a movie I would really only recommend to someone who's going for Waters completism, because the movie as it is mostly just feels a very rough, unpolished movie that has occasional glimmers of the Waters we all know and love, not in such a capacity that it's worth the run time for much beyond saying you've seen it.

Coming on the heels of that, Multiple Maniacs feels like a big step up. There's a confidence and a clearer sense of style and the kinds of things Waters wants to do on screen here that makes for a much more enjoyable watch by comparison. Right at the center of that is – you guessed it – the elevation of Divine from a support in Trasho to the center stage in Maniacs. We get other notable names in the Waters canon as well – Mink Stole, Cookie Mueller, and David Lochary all have great appearances among others. In particular, shout-out for the late Lochary who kicks the movie off in a memorable fashion in full carnival barker more for 'Lady Divine's cavalcade of perversions' – a wild sales pitch intro I would happily try to crib for an audition in the future if I though I could get away with it.

I never would have imagined I'd see
a John Waters rendition of the Stations of
the Cross before, but it's there
and it is absolutely insane in all the right ways.

But again, Divine is what makes this movie shine. This first variation has parts of what we would see Waters later adapt into Babs Johnson and Dawn Davenport in later movies, and as the prototype, Divine (as Divine) is in full chaotic force of nature mode, going from a life of crime, to a foray into religion, to a rampaging finale that may be the closest thing John Waters will ever make to a kaiju movie. Even beyond just her role in Dreamland history, she is a lot of fun in this movie and gives it a pulse that the earlier movie doesn't quite have.

So I feel like I'm rating this movie on two levels. On its own, it's a very watchable, if genuinely weird, piece of the more gonzo early years of John Waters with some truly bonkers set pieces that need to be seen to be believed. Taken as part of the larger Waters canon, I really enjoy this as that first really clear statement of Waters as a filmmaker. So much of what comes after can be seen in its early stages here. Multiple Maniacs walked so Pink Flamingos could tear down the streets in a psychotic Weapons-style sprint.

Believe it or not, this isn't the part where the movie
goes full kaiju.
It STARTS here, but this isn't it yet.

As you can imagine, this was also a great mood lifter after last time (though again, DO seek out Z.)

Alas, with this, I have completed the journey into the early days of Dreamland and sometime next month it's time to journey into the late 90s and beyond for Waters.

But before we do that, March has one more movie in the queue and it's one I have been circling for years. In closing out March, 52 Pick Up discovers what it means to be young as the month closes out with the Walter Hill cult classic Streets of Fire.

Till then.

52 Pick-Up #3 – The Bird With the Crystal Plumage (1970)

Hello all, and welcome back for the third draw in this experiment in first time watches and cinematic shuffling known as 52 Pick Up.

I know I joked about it last week, and I'm surprised it took me as long as it did to realize – but the January tour of Europe continues this week. Once again, we're going back to Italy, though this time the movie itself will be staying in country as opposed to an Italian director telling us a story in Germany.

So, without overplaying this bit any further, let's get into The Bird With the Crystal Plumage.

It occurred to me while watching this – for as many corners as I have gone down with Italian cinema, giallo has been a pretty big blind spot. I was running the numbers going off of what are considered the traditional rules of the genre, and prior to this, I think I've only seen two others – Phenomena and Deep Red. Both of which, like this movie, were also directed by one of the acclaimed names in the genre, Dario Argento.

Like giallo itself, Argento is a director I have a not insignificant number of potential firsts on the list for (besides the above titles, the only others can currently count as watched are Suspiria and Inferno.) So I was pretty happy to see this title get drawn, as it's held in high regard for both the genre and the director.

In keeping with the now informal format for these write-ups, I suppose this is where I give the quick pitch for anyone not familiar with the movie. Fitting with the above jokes about a European tour, this introduces our hero, Sam Dalmas (Tony Musante) as an American abroad in a losing battle with writer's block. Frustrated and ready to pack it in, Sam's plans for a trip back to the states are derailed when he walks by a museum and finds himself witness to a mysterious person in black attacking a woman. After having his plan to leave the country derailed by police questioning, he soon finds himself caught up in the mystery, as it becomes clear this attack may be part of a larger pattern of murder.

"Hmmm...nope. Still not inspired yet."

One thing I appreciated about this movie from the jump – Argento does a great job at grabbing the audience's attention and holding it. Right from Sam's first fateful encounter with the murderer, there are things that seem amiss. Rather than feeling like obvious giveaways, they serve to bait the hook for both protagonist and viewer. The pieces don't add up for Sam, and so, despite his initial reservations, his curiosity draws him into the search. As he goes from reluctantly pressed into the case to an active investigator, the movie draws the viewer with him, piecing together details of his own findings in a way that expands without giving the game away too soon. Further, the tension mounts as it becomes clear the killer knows Sam is on their trail, and they are determined to keep him off of it.

Is the final payoff worth it? Personally, I'd say it is.

Once the details are laid out and the reveal is made, the nature of the mystery could be seen as straightforward. That said, for foregoing the wilder twists and turns of other mystery stories, it carries itself from being well made all around with its internal logic holding up well. This last turn was a pleasant surprise, as there is often an element credited to giallo in which the main reveal is some outlandish turn of the plot to wrong-foot the audience that often leaves them wondering how it even works with the internal consistency of the movie. I went into this expecting a strange swerve of this type, even as I started seeing the clues pointing to the identity of the killer (which, to my pleasant surprise, I mostly caught – missed the significance of two pieces, but had the right person.)

The visit to this man might be the strangest part of this movie,
and that still makes sense in the larger context.

There's something endearing about this movie in its traditional execution. Taken as a mystery, it's not an elaborate head-trip designed to leave you utterly bowled over as one comes to expect in some modern mysteries, and that's honestly fine. Taken in hindsight, particularly seeing the movies that become overshadowed just by the audacity (or absurdity) of their twist endings, there's something refreshing about how grounded this movie is in the nature of its reveal. Like I said above, the movie seems draw its viewer in like Sam with the fact the pieces are all there for you to notice along with him. Looking back, it never feels like Argento is keeping that one critical clue deliberately out of sight where our hero would see it but the audience won't so he can pull the rug out. 

I'm not sure I can say this is the best movie I have seen of this run (for as rough a watch as it is, The Damned is still holding the edge for quality) but I do feel like right now is the most satisfying watch I've had. To the point where I actually feel bad it's taken me this long to also give a shout-out to the fact this movie's score is by the legendary Ennio Morricone, a reveal that also surprised me as someone used to some of Argento's later synth and prog-rock inspired scores. Learning he would go on to work with Argento again has me looking forward to keeping an eye out for the other times they crossed paths after this.

Honestly? It feels fitting to get a movie like this in January, given it now feels like this has perked my interest in a number of directions to populate the future draws.

Of course, that is for later. For now, we're about wrapping up here but there's still one week left of January. For the final week of the month, or impromptu European tour continues as once again we slingshot back over to Britain, this time by way of a visually striking little place called Pepperland.

That's right – I'm taking care of another long time cinematic blind spot next week with the Beatles' animated classic Yellow Submarine. I'm going into this with minimal advance knowledge or expectations, so this should be fun.

Hopefully will see you all then.

Wanda (1970)

Hello and welcome back for another round of the Criterion Challenge. We're bringing the month of March to a close with our second feature for Women's History Month: Barbara Loden's directorial debut, Wanda.

As I said last time, this is a break from the previous two entries in that, unfortunately, there is no larger directorial body of work from Loden. Within a decade of the movie's release, which was limited but acclaimed, she had died of breast cancer.

I'm saying this up front partly to clarify what I said last time, and partly because I wanted to get that out of the way early so I wouldn't dwell on it. Because it is a shame – Wanda is one Hell of a first film.

Besides the 'what could have been' aspect of Loden's larger career, the single biggest thing that caught my attention was its central character. This is by design – the movie's entire arc hinges on its study of the titular Wanda Goronski (played by Loden) as she makes her way through numerous scenarios.

Loosely based on a mix of other stories of women and aspects of her own life, Loden presents Wanda as a character who, by her nature, has lived her life by the lead of whatever man she happens to be with. This causes her to come across at points as disaffected and detached – such as in the beginning of the movie when she yields custody of her children to her ex husband with no contest – and ultimately adrift as she crosses paths with several men who use and discard her to their own ends.

The bulk of the movie is born out of one of these particular encounters, when a chance run-in puts her in the company of a fugitive named Norman (Michael Higgins), who is at first evasive, then ultimately enlists Wanda as a partner in his life of crime.

Within the larger scope of Wanda's character, her dynamic with Norman is interesting both in its similarities and its differences. There are numerous aspects where we see Norman treating Wanda with the similar sort of callousness of other men in the movie, ordering her on errands and in one sequence telling her in extensive detail what to and what not to wear.

At the same time, there is also a sense of trust Norman shows Wanda that is lacking in other interaction she has with men in the film. This isn't to say it makes their relationship an especially healthy one, as he is still clearly controlling in many ways. Still, it is striking how the fact he puts trust in her to accomplish things causes her to become more engaged and alert than we see her at any other time in the movie.

It's arguably the healthiest relationship she has in this movie.
And damn, that is bleak to think about.

It's also part of what makes the ending of this movie, for me at least, genuinely haunting (for lack of a better word.) Without giving too much away, things with Norman go awry and Wanda is left on her own again. After another bad encounter, the movie ends with Wanda sitting in a bar, looking detached as she appears to wait for the next person to come along and give her direction.

It's an arc that's both depressing and compelling in many ways. Even more when one hears Loden talk about the inspirations for her character. Incidentally, the Criterion release does include some archival interviews she gave promoting the movie that are worth watching, both for her inspirations and just the steps taken to get the film made on the budget she had.

When this first came out, the reaction to Wanda herself was decidedly mixed. I can see why – to some, her passive nature could be seen as less than engaging. Personally, I think it's part of what caught me – like a lot of films lately, this is one where I could see the more conventional story that could be told here, and the fact it instead went with following this character who just keeps trying to find someone to give her a purpose made for a different and compelling narrative.

I told myself going in that I wouldn't just make this dwelling on what Loden could have done as a filmmaker had she not died, but it's hard not to wonder. Even more with those above mentioned interviews – there is really a sense she could have gone on to make more great work.

Alas, we only got the one feature, albeit one that is still very good in its own right.

And so, we bring the month to a close.

Speaking of directorial careers, we're going a slightly different theme for next month. In honor of the man's birthday, as well as my partner, who is a fan of his work, we're venturing into the weird and wacky world of John Waters next month.

Till then.