John Waters: King Of Smut Finds His `Sweet' Side

Ever since John Waters released his epic exploration of filthy living, 1971's "Pink Flamingos," the good-humored director has been known by many names: King of Bad Taste, Sultan of Smut, the list goes on and on.

Waters wore these, and countless other labels, proudly at the outset of his fame.

But Waters was recently slapped with a new title that had him quaking in his shoes.

"One review called me the Grandfather of Gross," he said in a recent phone interview from his New York City home. "I thought, uh oh."

"But that's OK," Waters continued, "because all the kids today that are 20 years old, they really respect their filth elders."

Titles aside, Waters is done with slinging dirt, even if the rest of America is smuttier than ever. In recent years, he's moved on, evident in his new film, the more-innocent "Pecker," and works like "Hairspray" and "Cry Baby," his unique take on the musical genre.

What makes "Pecker" stand out from all of Waters films, however, is that the story of a Baltimore boy photographer's clash with the New York art gallery scene has been described by critics as "sweet." "Pecker," to be sure, has its moments of Waters' trademark smuttiness, but the fact that those antics can now pass for "sweet" perhaps says more about America than it does about Waters.

"That is kind of surprising. And in the reviews from people who don't like the movie, that's what they don't like. `How dare he make a sweet movie!' If I can make a sweet movie where the subject matter is fake miracles and pubic-hair harassment, lesbian drag kings . . . and that is called a happy, feel-good movie in America . . . that is the ultimate insanity of American culture," Waters said, laughing.

"Besides," he added. "I think all my movies are kind of happy. I don't think any of them are really mean."

He paused, perhaps remembering aspects of his more notorious tales that involved cannibalism ("Flamingos"), exploding families ("Female Trouble") and a suburban housewife turned psycho ("Serial Mom").

"Well, maybe `Desperate Living.' That was kind of mean," he conceded. All right, we'll give him that one.

Indeed, the 26 years that have passed between "Flamingos" and "Pecker" has seen Waters' brand of shock schlock co-opted into the Hollywood mainstream. Witness Matt Stone and Trey Parker's quick rise through "South Park," or the runaway success of the Farrelly brothers' "There's Something About Mary" - whose, um, memorable take on the term "natural hair care products" begged comparisons with Waters' work.

Even so, the wiry director doesn't take much credit for inspiring these movies.

"I'm flattered by that, certainly. I don't think anybody has ever copied me. But I do think if I hadn't gotten people used to laughing at some things, that maybe some of the movies today that are mainstream hits wouldn't have passed censor boards," he said. "Some of those films would have been illegal 20 years ago."

Though his cinematic dedication to his hometown Baltimore has remained constant over the years (he maintains a residence there and in New York) Waters has grown out of being a shock-dealer while honing his skills as a ribald writer. "Pecker," though innocent in many ways, is filled to the brim with tricky double-entendres and dirty jokes. The title itself is the biggest punch line, since Waters came up with it before penning the plot.

"It's not really obscene, but it's also not a title usually on marquees," he said. "You can't use it in an insult or even sexually . . . well, except maybe Prince Charles. He's really bad at talking dirty. Remember what he said about the tampon? Talk about a bad line."

Few bad lines besmirch "Pecker," which Waters wrote expressly for dirty minds with extensive vocabularies. His next work, tentatively titled "Cecil B. Demented," will no doubt follow a similar path. And don't look for any more muck on the screen from Waters - it's not going to happen, he says.

"I resigned from the battle of filth after `Pink Flamingos.' I feel like I've won for all time," he said. "The Imperial Margarine crown of filth is firmly placed on my head, forever."