PLANET SICK-BOY: http://www.sick-boy.com "We Put the SIN in Cinema"
A wise man once said, `Yo, Chuck, hold ‘em hostage!' Okay, it wasn't really a wise man – it was Flava Flav – but his point is still pretty easy to understand. Mr. Flav was talking about the music industry and it's failure to recognize his explosive Public Enemy as a legitimate threat to the bloated beast that was the music business.
While there hasn't been a decent high profile kidnapping splattered on the front pages of newspapers in years (unless you count the abduction of John Travolta's brain), celebrated independent filmmaker John Waters brings the under-appreciated crime into the spotlight with his latest film, Cecil B. Demented.
To serve as the wickedly criminal heroes in Demented, Waters (Pecker) has created a group of disenchanted teens called The Sprocketholes, who live in a 21st century version of Andy Warhol's Factory in Baltimore's abandoned Hippodrome theatre. Each Sprockethole has a tattoo of their favorite director, ranging from the expected (David Lynch, Spike Lee) to the startling (William Castle, Kenneth Anger).
Their leader and director, the titular Cecil B. Demented (Stephen Dorff, Blade) is a self proclaimed prophet against profit – a true independent filmmaker that, like Ed Wood, doesn't waste time with more than one take of each scene. Cecil's goal is to destroy the Hollywood system as we know it, using his group of hell-bent terrorists to create a new cinema underground. According to Cecil, mainstream film has stolen the nudity and co-opted the violence of independent film, and they must pay dearly. In other words, he's nuttier than Lars von Trier.
So Demented and the Sprocketholes hatch a plan to kidnap America's favorite actress – the devilishly two-faced Honey Whitlock (Melanie Griffith, Crazy in Alabama) – from the charity premiere of her new screwball comedy in Baltimore. But the kidnapping is just the beginning. Demented and company plan on forcing Whitlock to perform in their own anti-establishment film that will reveal the motion picture industry as a bunch of boobs in finely-tailored suits.
As Demened's film hurtles toward its completion, Waters' script takes swipes at just about everything from theatre concession prices and lame advertising displays to the MPAA and the prestigious Guilds for Acting and Directing. Waters seems to hold particular disdain for theatre latecomers, critics that love every film they see, and the generation that green-lighted feature films based on bad television shows they worshipped as children.
Waters' self-righteous finger pointing is a great idea for a film, and the fact that he's able to pull the picture together with a low budget and a supporting cast of acting rookies makes Demented even more enjoyable. The film is a hoot, from the inventive opening credits that jump off theatre marquees, to the big orgy bloodbath finale. Hold ‘em hostage, John.
1:28 - R for strong sexual content, violence, adult language and drug use
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