Waters’ film is also fun because he includes outrageous scenes such as Beverly, turned on after her first murder, having bed-crunching sex with her milquetoast husband Eugene (Sam Waterson), or later, when she is on the lam, and seeks refuge in the mosh pit of a punk club. (In support, longtime Waters collaborator Mink Stole is hilarious as the meek, offended Dottie, who can spew profanities like an angry trucker.) She generates high comedy defending herself and using her feminine wiles to distract a male witness, or coercing Dottie Hinkle to be in contempt of court. However, Turner is at her absolute best during the film’s courtroom scenes. And she’s very amusing when she’s provoking Dottie Hinkle with obscenities. She has some pricelessly funny expressions watching an insect buzz around her breakfast table, landing on a stick of butter, a piece of toast, or the rim of a glass of orange juice. Serial Mom delivers because Kathleen Turner goes all-in with her performance. Waters is skewering the flip-flopping ideologies about consuming crime here, as well as those who blame horror films for killing and deviance. Meanwhile, Birdie campaigns against violence after witnessing one of Beverly’s real-life crime scenes. Likewise, Chip, who shares a love of horror films with his friend Birdie (Patricia Dunnock), embraces his mother’s reputation, and haggles over media appearances. Later, she proudly exploits Beverly’s fame for profit. When Beverly is suspected of being a serial killer, her daughter Misty (Ricki Lake) first worries her mother’s notoriety will prevent her from getting a boyfriend. The film is asking viewers to consider the celebrity status given to mass murderers and the public’s fascination with them. That said, Beverly cheerfully demurs at one point, “The only ‘serial’ I know anything about is Rice Krispies.” She also keeps a personalized cassette tape from Ted Bundy (voiced by an uncredited Waters) just before his execution. There is a great gag about Beverly hiding a picture of Charles Manson in a book on birding, or a signed 8 x 10” glossy of mass murderer Richard Speck under her mattress. Waters is gleefully riffing on his obsession with serial killers with Serial Mom, and lets the story unfold like a true crime tale, complete with a disclaimer at the start of the film and time and date stamps during key scenes. But these icky bits are played for laugh in much the same way as Beverly, wielding a kitchen knife, chases a victim down the street in broad daylight is. The film also features yucky gross-out moments, from a gory killing with a fire poker to a nasty sneeze in church.
Serial Mom gets its yuks from Beverly being offended by other people’s misdeeds. Yes, she makes prank calls to her neighbor Dottie Hinkle (Mink Stole), who stole her parking spot once, but the people who really make her homicidal do not rewind videocassette rentals, avoid using seatbelts, or insist on wearing white shoes after Labor Day. Beverly won’t allow chewing gum in her house, and when her son Chip (Matthew Lillard) announces, “I’m so happy I could shit!” Beverly retorts, “Chip, you know how I hate the brown word.”īeverly kills because she cannot abide bad behavior. This is a black comedy for anyone who is bothered-as Beverly is-by the rule-breakers in polite society. John Waters’ cheeky satire of suburbanite propriety is quite funny, and not just because it pokes fun at women who enjoy Barry Manilow and Franklin Mint Faberge Eggs. In Serial Mom, when someone jokes about perfect housewife Beverly Sutphin (Kathleen Turner) being a murderer, someone else exclaims, “It’s not funny!”Īctually, it is. In honor of John Waters’ birthday, we’re celebrating his work all week!
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