NYC 05

Harlem: Apollo Theatre

Hollywood 07

Tarrantino Presents: double bill

Pussycat Club

Bob's Big Boy Diner - David Lynch buys a tuna sandwich here everyday

Fan girl's dream: Bruce LaBruce hotspot in Hustler White (1996)

Hollywood Forever cemetery

West Hollywood: local business

The Hills

Banksy exhibition

Banksy exhibition

Banksy exhibition

Original painting by Susan Tyrell

Berlin 08

Second hand rummaging

Beautiful trinkets

Flea Market

Beers at Barbie Deinhoff's

Train Hopping

Exploring East Berlin

Deutsche Kinemathek - Museum Fur Film und Fernsehen

Picasso Wall

Interview: John Waters

I was in a bar recently and I asked this guy what he did for a living and he said, “Can I be frank?” and I said, “Sure” and he replied, “I trade deer meat for crack.”

Just how filthy is this world of ours and what have you done to contribute to it?

Well, filth to me is a compliment. I think the word ‘camp’ is over, ‘kitsch’ is over, ‘trash’ is over, but filth still has a bit of an edge. It means you respect the taste of others who think they’re normal but are totally insane, which is what has always interested me the most. I’m still filthy, I still meet filthy women and I love them. I like people who are proud of their deviancy and proud of their erotic behaviour. That is mental health. If you recognise your neurosis coming towards you and you deal with the consequences, then I think that’s the first step to happiness.

When did you first realise a film could be trash?

Well, basically it was when I first saw Ingmar Bergman’s films because they were released at first as ‘sex films.’ I was so sad when I heard he died because he really was the puke king. He did puke first and that was really radical. People call me the puke king, but it was really him. Seriously, look at his early movies. People are always puking! Puke in cinema has its roots in Sweden.

Why have you chosen to stay in Baltimore and make your films there?

Baltimore has such an inferiority complex. Cities always try to hide the bad stuff. I once suggested that they make a bumper sticker saying ‘Come to Baltimore and be shocked’ and they did! The mayor just wants me to keep making movies, however hideous, because it keeps Baltimore on the map. No one makes films in Baltimore about Harbour Place or the nice parts. They make it about the extremes. I was in a bar recently and I asked this guy what he did for a living and he said, “Can I be frank?” and I said, “Sure” and he replied, “I trade deer meat for crack.”

You’ve always said you’re not a very technical person, so why did you choose filmmaking as a career?

If you look at my early movies you can tell that I didn’t know what I was doing. They looked like documentaries. People really thought that we lived in a trailer like in Pink Flamingos! But I learned by actually making the films, and I think that’s the best way. Sometimes mistakes are the best things that can happen, especially in the art world.

Film Review: Good Dick, 2008 (dir. Marianna Palka)

Marianna Palka’s debut feature Good Dick radiates promise. Fresh from winning the New Director’s Award at EIFF and picking up a nomination for the Grand Jury prize at Sundance, one would expect the film to hail from the higher echelons of American independent filmmaking. Produced by Present Pictures and Morning Knight, the film has fought its way onto our screens without financial help from the conglomerates or even the mini-majors. For this feat alone, it should be applauded.

Falling short - Marianna Palka and Jason Ritter in Good Dick

Good Dick is reminiscent of the early work of Richard Linklater and Kevin Smith, whose 1994 film Clerks mythologized the video store as a Mecca for aimless young men. This familiar locale was a safe arena where existential musings and personal demons could be addressed by characters with tainted pasts and uncertain futures.

The disillusioned twenty-somethings of Generation X filter through into Palka’s film as she positions them within a similar ‘Slacker’ context. Time Magazine suggested these disaffected youth, ‘possess only a hazy sense of their own identity but a monumental preoccupation with all the problems the preceding generation will leave for them to fix’. Taking this lead, Palka continues such notions of confused identity by leaving her two protagonists nameless. Instead we are left to characterise Jason Ritter as the ‘ex-junkie video clerk’ who falls for Marianna Palka’s ‘porn-obsessed loner’.

This offbeat relationship is born out of Ritter’s interest in the woman who visits the store daily to rent x-rated films. Intrigue leads him to her apartment where he presents himself at her door, and despite rejecting his advances, persists in trying to win the woman’s affection . Unfortunately, Palka builds these complex personal histories only to dilute them with clichés, leaving them under developed. The generic conventions of a romantic comedy are easily detected once you look beyond the dark humour lining the surface.

Whilst Ritter is presented as love-sick, his insistence on becoming Palka’s porn-watching partner leaves a bitter taste. Suspect motivations are glossed over and his behaviour is presented as nothing more than the interesting quirk of a misguided young man. Arguably, the film’s risqué title exemplifies Palka’s approach to filmmaking; one which appears leftfield but is ultimately conventional and dull.

Despite her failed attempts, Palka does (to her credit) try and question traditional gender roles. By looking at female sexuality, the director returns to the debate surrounding women’s place within mainstream pornography and draws attention to sexual biases. Interestingly, it is Ritter who condemns the exploitative nature of such films declaring it, ‘pathetic to spend all day watching girls who are underpaid and exploited rubbing up against each other.’ Within this discussion, Palka name drops Annie Sprikle – L.A’s resident porn star turned sex educator and artist. As a figure in popular culture, Sprinkle has come to represent a new wave of sex-positive feminists who reject pornography as an all-male domain, a line Palka seems to also be towing.

However, whilst the film appears subversive by suggesting a woman might actually engage in erotic fantasies (shock horror!) it also implies that abuse is at the root of her behaviour. Several scenes in the film show Palka gazing at the screen of her Mac looking longingly at childhood photos. By juxtaposing these scenes with explicit sexual discussions, the director clumsily hints towards the underlying problem preventing the woman from having a “normal” relationship. Unfortunately Palka patronises her audience, leaving no narrative ambiguity or climactic surprise. Yet another female figure in cinema is rendered problematic, her masturbatory exploits and hedonistic yearnings never being just that. The opportunity for Palka to create an interesting character arises, but sadly she lets her fall deep into a hole of predictability.

As a first step into feature filmmaking it would be unfair to entirely rubbish Palka’s efforts. Whilst she says nothing new, the film is not entirely without merit and at times she captures sweet moments of affection between characters. However, the director fails to create a film that is progressive and brave. Instead, the film is just another mediocre outing in independent filmmaking. One can only hope that she is more daring in her next film to push the boundaries further.