“I guess that’s why they work, and why they did cross over,” he says. “Nobody was preaching – a child could get them, an adult could get them, and yet they had ideas in them that were anything but mainstream. People didn’t seem to mind the things I was pushing in those movies, though, because they were so joyous.”
Of all his films, Waters is possibly best known for Hairspray, a nostalgic look at ’50s America which successfully delivered a radical message in a sugary-sweet package. Waters still considers that film to be one of his greatest triumphs. “Nobody seemed to notice that two men were dancing together and singing a love song,” he says with a laugh, “or that Penny liked black guys and that was encouraged. Those aren’t things that families in middle America might have necessarily embraced at the time. I’m thrilled that Hairspray was so successful though – I think it’s the only really radical movie I’ve ever made.”
A few years ago, as you’ll no doubt recall, Hollywood remade Hairspray as a super-slick musical starring Zac Efron and John Travolta. Most directors would balk at the thought of their movies being repacked and remade in such a way, but Waters is not like most directors. A fan of all things kitsch, he enjoyed the new version of Hairspray tremendously. “I thought it was good,” he tells me. “They had to reinvent it to make it successful. That’s why the movie of The Producers didn’t work as well, because they did the play again. They changed Hairspray and it worked – they made a broad, big-budget Hollywood movie, and it worked. It had the same message as before, and the dancing was great!”
John Waters is nothing if not a raconteur. He has spent a lifetime mixing with drag queens and drug addicts and wallowing gleefully in the detritus of American popular culture, and he regales audiences with tales of all these things and more in his live show, This Filthy World. He will return to Australia soon for a new run of This Filthy World shows, and I ask him just what we can expect. “It’s certainly going to be different from when I was there last time I was there,” he says. “I’m always rewriting it and changing it. The show’s about everything – it’s about fashion, crime, movies, my limits. It’s about all the different jobs I’d like to have done – I’d like to have been the warden of a prison, or a quack doctor. It’s just about how to get through life. The message, ultimately, is that you’re never going to fit in with everybody, so stop trying to.”
I’m intrigued as to what Waters’ limits might be – after witnessing the dog poop-eating scene at the end of his depraved classic Pink Flamingos, I genuinely didn’t think he had any. “Oh, that’s a big part of the show!” he laughs. “Over the years, I’ve come across some things that are too much, even for me. You’re going to have to come and see the show to find out what they are, but I will say that there are some sexual minorities that I’m not necessarily going to go and march for.”
Previous iterations of the show included digs at Michael Jackson, and I ask Waters if, in the wake of the pop star’s death, that’s a place he still goes. “I do have a new one,” he says. “It’s a different version, since he died. I don’t want to give away too much, but it has to do with Justin Bieber. I’m a huge fan of Justin Bieber, way more so than Michael Jackson.” I’m surprised when I hear Waters drop the B-word, until it occurs to me that, for someone so enamoured of the wacky, tacky dregs of popular culture, Justin Bieber is probably the Holy Grail. For the record, John Waters is happy to go on record as a Belieber. “I did a TV show with Justin in London,” he says, “and afterwards, he drew my moustache on while all the paparazzi stood around and took shots. When he stuck his head out of the screen in that 3D movie and shook his hair at the audience, I levitated. I’m all for him.”
If Waters was willing to let Justin Bieber touch his moustache, does that mean he’ll let just any fan do it? “I generally say no,” he tells me. “I don’t like it when people always ask me for a hug, either – I mean, I’m happy to take pictures with people, but I don’t want to be hugging anybody, much less strangers! They rarely ask to touch my moustache. If I know someone well, or if I’m on live television and the audience is big enough, maybe I’d say yes. If it will sell enough books…” So, if the money’s right, he’ll let his principles slide? “It’s like a lap dance!” he says with a wry chuckle. If the reward’s big enough, I’ll do it.”
