Sylvia Stickles (Tracey Ullman) is a grumpy, prudish convenience store employee who can't stand her husband Vaughn's (Chris Isaak) sexual advances and is ashamed of her stripper daughter Caprice's (Selma Blair) insanely enormous fake breasts, which the young harlot willingly displays (at least, before being put under house arrest for indecent exposure) down at the local biker bar under the stage name "Ursula Udders." Sylvia is disgusted by the rampant public displays of affection infecting her quiet town, yet after suffering a concussion, a strapping mechanic named Ray-Ray (Johnny Knoxville) does some voodoo on her libido, transforming Sylvia into an unhinged sex-aholic destined - as the Christ-like Ray-Ray preaches to his choir of fetishistic cohorts - to discover a truly unique new sexual act. With the rallying cry "Let's Go Sexin'!", Sylvia and Ray-Ray orchestrate a debauched sexual revolution against the square "Neuters" who - led by Sylvia's mother Big Ethel (Suzanne Shepherd) and Marge the Neuter (Waters regular Mink Stole) - have organized a counter-coalition of the "moral," and Waters, through the sheer abundance of explicit material on display, goes for the jugular (or somewhere slightly lower) in his attempt to appall and offend.
Continue reading: A Dirty Shame Review
If John Waters' last few gentler and (slightly) more commercial movies ("Pecker," "Serial Mom," "Cry-Baby") had his fans thinking the once-warped director had lost his edge, that perhaps he was inching toward mainstream repeatability, they need not fear. It was all a ruse.
It seems Waters was only lulling the cinematic establishment into a false sense of security so he could turn around and bite them in the ass with "Cecil B. Demented," a hilarious -- and very much old-school John Waters -- anti-blockbuster romp that chews up and spits out the kind of pandering Hollywood conventions that to toothless, cookie-cutter box office hits.
Cecil B. Demented (Stephen Dorff), you see, is an independent filmmaker of the purest order. His goal: cinematic revolution by any means necessary. If that includes kidnapping one Honey Whitlock (Melanie Griffith), Hollywood's biggest spoiled bitch/aging bimbo star, and forcing her at gun point to play a lead in his guerilla movie about celluloid terrorists (much like himself), so be it.
Continue reading: Cecil B Demented Review