John Waters

John Waters TodayWikimedia CommonsEvery February 7th, Baltimore celebrates filmmaker John Waters–anointed as the “Pope of Trash”[1] by novelist William S. Buroughs–where residents drop off fan letters at Atomic Books for Waters to pick up [2] or host screenings of his most admired films like Female Trouble or Pink Flamingos. He created his own genre of black comedy trash cinema, inspired by his own experiences and interests. By refusing subjection to mainstream cinema, he translated his creative purity into puke fantasy.

 From a young age, growing up in Lutherville–described by its locals as a “cultural wasteland”– he had a propensity toward violent stories, specifically about criminals, car accidents, and murders. In Kindergarten he’d come home raving about the weird kid in his class who was stubbornly mute and colored solely with black crayons, only for his parents to discover that he was describing himself. Waters’ remembers his parents observing his strange ways, but acknowledges that their devotion to his security was instrumental in blossoming into the individual artist he is today [3].

Waters’ films are distinguished by their “trash” aesthetic, transgressive nature, and signature locale. He is one of the few directors to film almost all of his scenes in the heart of his origins–Baltimore. Driven by his own interests, he sought out actors from his hometown, discovering, most notably, Harris Glenn Millstead, otherwise known as “Divine,”a down the street neighbor who was arguably the most influential drag queen to transition this underground culture into mainstream [4]. Waters’ belief in the tyrannical essence of good taste propelled his transgressive filmmaking pursuits. However, his visual fantasies of filth and shock value are never derogatory or of anger but elevated by its characters commonly found on the fringes of society and friendly irony. He doesn’t appeal to the average viewer’s thirst for digestible storytelling and appealing visuals but rather uplifts the featured figures in his films as part of his confrontational style is through community.

Beyond being one of the most respected auteurs and trailblazers of independent cinema, Waters is immensely philanthropic. He promoted charity funds for those deeply affected by Hurricane Helane, is a veteran supporter and fundraiser for the Elton John AIDS Foundation, and donated nearly 400 pieces of art to the Baltimore Museum of Art. Although his last film, A Dirty Shame, was produced in 2004, and unable to gather the funds for a new project, his passion for reciprocating love toward his community is undeniable. He funds the Baltimore film festival, endorses local artistic projects, and markets his minister services in marrying couples to fund-raise for the Provincetown Film Society [5]. 

As a pioneer in queer and independent cinema, Waters’ transgressive style and provocative content launched him to the cult-acclaimed status he’s revered for today. He builds community by bridging the connection between his characters and viewer, almost coercing us with irreverence into being comfortable with filth. How flowers contrast to fungi, so does art when considering trash. However, Waters’ reshapes trash and the concealing dumpsters to be a deviation of art rather than the antithesis. He lives without critical judgment and is a filmmaker for and with his beloved viewers.