To be honest, until a few days ago, the only John Waters film I had seen was Hairspray. But I had my eye on Female Trouble for months.
As the film began, I had no clue what to expect, but any ideas I did have were immediately disproven. The title sequence opened the film slowly like a present, peeling away the wrapping paper before tearing it off all at once. The title song, with vocals by Divine and lyrics by John Waters, was also a lovely addition. But more to come on Divine in a little bit.
Breaking Boundaries
Waters grew up in Baltimore, MD, where most of his films are set, forming a clique of like-minded folks whose mission it was to make as many self-financed, independent B-movies as possible. His films often feature the irreverent, breaking boundaries and subverting “hetero-normative” culture by starring drag queens and queer people whose characters deal with everything from drug use to abortion.
In the mid-1960s, John Waters met Harris Glen Milstead, who became known by his drag queen name, Divine. Divine quickly joined Waters’ acting troupe, the Dreamlanders, and went on to star in both John Waters’ experimental short films and features, from Roman Candles and Eat Your Makeup to Mondo Trasho and Pink Flamingos.
Female Trouble centers on Divine’s character, Dawn, who is a total train-wreck. After her parents fail to give her a pair of coveted “cha-cha” heels for Christmas, Dawn runs away from home and ends up having sex with Earl, also played by Divine, on the side of the road. If you are cringing at the thought, I don’t blame you. This is definitely one of the more disturbing scenes in Female Trouble.
In the following scene, Dawn bears it all with a burlesque performance, gaining the admiration of men in the audience. Title cards between the scenes act as cues; it is as if Waters wanted us to know which Dawn we would see next. But, even with the titles, Dawn is as unpredictable as a wild animal.
She does not let her daughter, Taffy, attend school and locks her in the bedroom upstairs when she won’t stop behaving. (And, on multiple occasions, Dawn calls Taffy “retarded.”) But if you can hang on through the insanity, there are gems to be found in this film.
Attention To Detail
The set design in Female Trouble is impeccable; the bizarre wallpapered interior of Dawn’s apartment works well with the plush furniture and absurdly steep staircase.
As the film progresses, Dawn gains the attention of a photographer and his wife, who promise to make her a star. Their uncanny eye for beauty is reflected in the film itself; each shot is like a disturbing photograph that you can’t look away from.
While Dawn grows increasingly more menacing and grotesque, the look and feel of Female Trouble matches up to her in disgust. Actually, the film ends with a freeze-frame of Dawn’s face (so that we may get a final glimpse at her terrifying beauty).
There is something about the way the camera zooms in so easily, whether it is framing the faces of expressive characters or capturing an object. I love Waters’ stylistic choices here—whereas in any other film, zooming might be extra cheesy and unnecessary.
Throughout the film, Waters cuts to different objects to break up the scene. For example, when Taffy meets her father, Earl, for the first time, we cut away to a close up of a hog’s head mounted on the wall. In any other film, this move might seem absurd, but for some reason it works here.
There are close ups of other objects, too, from spaghetti to the ribbon on Dawn’s present. And then there are close ups I could do without, like the shots of penises. One thing is for sure: the camera makes certain that we are never left guessing what we’re looking at.
“Queers Are Just Better”
In one unforgettable scene, Aunt Ida, Dawn’s neighbor, pesters her nephew—a beautician named Gater—about his sexuality. “You meet any nice boys over at the salon?” she asks him. After insisting that he is, in fact, straight, Aunt Ida tells him that he can change!
Perhaps the main takeaway from this scene, and from the film as a whole, is that “queers are just better,” as Aunt Ida puts it. Female Trouble certainly celebrates queerness, and even if it doesn’t make you want to slip into drag, it will definitely help you think twice about the banality of heterosexual existence.
Judith Butler, gender theorist and philosopher, once wrote that drag is not, in itself, subversive, although “it may function to deflect anxieties about homosexuality” (Thornham 291). As stated in Sue Thornham’s Feminist Film Theory, Butler believes that by performing a genderqueer identity, drag kings and queens create an “excess” that is not normally found in straight culture.
Basically, being gay or transgender becomes a show- one that straight people can actually handle watching (sometimes, anyway). This way, queer-fearing straight folk can look at gay and transgender performers without making a direct association. It’s like a safe fetish.
In Female Trouble, excess is the film’s lifeblood. Aunt Ida rolls around the floor in agony when Gater ups and leaves. Dawn strangles her daughter to death while wearing a sequin dress and tons of makeup. In her final act on stage, Dawn opens fire on the audience. But was the shoot-out a messed up reversal of the so-called neutral gaze? Was it a way of Divine telling straight people to go f*** themselves? I’m not sure, but I’d like to think so.
Conclusion
If you are looking for a film to unearth your deepest, most subconscious fears–and to stretch the boundaries of your comfort zone–then Female Trouble is for you. Plus, there are perks along the way, like eye-catching mise-en-scène and Divine in drag. This one is definitely not for the weak of heart, but do give it a try, if you haven’t already.
Are you a John Waters fan? What did you think of Female Trouble?
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