6/30/22

Blood Capsule #124

DESPERATE LIVING (1977)

I'm on something of a John Waters kick.  Heh, I feel like I've just admitted to struggling with drug addiction.  Most of his movies have subverted my DVD player, but strangely enough, Desperate Living has escaped my meddling eyes.  I came across a review that described this scrappy, prototypical piece of cinematic sludge as transitional.  That's about right.  Living sits in between Waters' early works of experimental "art trash" and his (slightly) more conventional fare.  It's also missing a key component that would come to exemplify a John Waters joint - Divine!  So how did I rate the film?  Was I able to cozy up to scenes of incommodious sex, do-it-yourself abortion, rape, and more rape?

The dialogue is customarily hysterical ("I'd like to stick my whole head in your mouth and let you suck out my eyeballs!"), and thankfully, it tends to make up for Living's grim tone.  But that's the thing; the atmosphere is almost too oppressive for a Waters joyride.  I didn't have fun with it.  Pink Flamingoes is just as warped and intractable, but all of its filth is accented with an off-center smile.  Don't get me wrong (or right, God forbid); I don't despise Desperate Living.  I just don't see many replays in the foreseeable future.  Oopsy-daisy...I forgot the synopsis.  That was intentional.  C'mon, make my life a little easier and consult any other review for a plot summary.  I'm a busy man, clearly.

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