Review of Pink Flamingos (1972) by Mark L — 21 May 2008

Flixster observes that this movie is involved with "taking on and demolishing just about every known middle-class value. . ." It certainly takes them on, but does little to offer anything substantive in exchange. This movie was lauded in a recent documentary I watched, so I put it in my Netflix queue. The movie sold itself under the tagline, "An exercise in poor taste." That turned out to be a very restrained characterization.

I'd have given it one star were it not for the occasional inanely humorous moments. Divine is certainly a larger than life personality. I was also interested in the performance of the late Cookie Mueller who was featured in a Nan Goldin book I had a chance to peruse several months ago. And, what the hell, it is - for whatever it's worth - a cult classic, one of those "places" movie buffs probably ought to go just to say they did. This is the backside of the silver screen, the prolapsed rectum of famous films.

And should you find the tedious storyline, awful camera work, threesome with a chicken, the famous "singing [butt]hole and the incestuous fellatio pushing you away from the screen, don't give up. The last moments are the best. I never knew it could be so hard to watch Divine eat real dog feces. Pink Flamingos is a scatological, orgiastic mess. Wear a bib.