Cast: Melanie Griffith, Stephen Dorff, Alicia Witt, Larry Gilliard Jr., Maggie Gyllenhaal, Eric M. Barry, Zenzele Uzoma, Erika Lynn Rupli, Harriet Dodge, Adrian Grenier
Director: John Waters
Producers: Joseph M. Caracciolo Jr., John Fiedler, Mark Tarlov
Screenplay: John Waters
Cinematography: Robert M. Stevens
Music: Zoe Poledouris & Basil Poledouris
U.S. Distributor: Artisan Entertainment
Cecil B. Demented is the latest offering from once-maverick filmmaker John Waters. Waters, who started his career as a guerilla director with movies like Mondo Trasho and Pink Flamingos, here takes a step back and turns his camera on the industry, looking at the differences between mainstream and independent cinema in today's marketplace. Unfortunately, instead of being edgy and gleefully subversive, Cecil B. Demented comes across as boring and repetitive. It has all the bite of a vampire with dentures.
Waters' agenda in Cecil B. Demented is to present the mainstream movie world as a barren creative wasteland populated by sell-outs, quote whores, and economic parasites. This isn't exactly a new idea, but it is one worth exploring. However, in his zeal to parody the movie industry, Waters neglects to provide anything resembling a storyline. As a result, Cecil B. Demented comes across as a 90-minute rant that is only occasionally coherent, rarely provocative, and almost never funny. Like two many one-joke pictures, this one only gets one laugh. In the end, watching it is akin to sitting through the same 10-minute comedy sketch over and over. It may be diverting the first time, but, by the third or fourth go-around, it's irritating and tedious. The end credits come as a welcome relief.
Stephen Dorff plays the title character, an underground proponent of "terrorist cinema" who is determined to bring his vision to the screen, even if it means creating mayhem and killing people. He believes that the state of American movies is so bad that only a massive shock to the system will resuscitate it. So, along with his band of horny renegades, he orchestrates the kidnapping of a major Hollywood personality, Honey Whitlock (Melanie Griffith), whom he intends to force to star in his movie. At first, Honey is reluctant, but, the better she understands Cecil's philosophy, the more committed to his cause she becomes.
In attacking Hollywood and the movie-making process, Waters has entered the rarefied atmosphere of such films as Robert Altman's The Player and Tom DiCillo's Living In Oblivion, but Cecil B. Demented proves to be inadequate for the company. The film's constant attacks on the MPAA pale in comparison to what Trey Parker and Matt Stone did in 1999's South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut. And the idea of using a major Hollywood star to headline a no-budget production was done far better in the Steve Martin/Eddie Murphy vehicle, Bowfinger. Had Cecil B. Demented been committed to film a few years ago, it might have been hailed as revolutionary (or at least interesting), but, by now, it's little more than a lifeless retread.
While the experience of enduring Cecil B. Demented is a largely unrewarding one, Waters does throw in the occasional amusing sight gag. Theater marquees are frequently shown in the background, and it's always worth reading what's written on them. Waters also has filmed a couple of "extended scenes" from the director's cut of Patch Adams that are amusing and irreverent. Sadly, these isolated incidents remind us what the film could have been.
In Melanie Griffith, Waters has made the perfect casting choice. The helium-voiced actress has no difficulty playing a high-priced but talentless performer; it's not exactly the role of a career, but it's well within Griffith's range. Stephen Dorff is adequate as Cecil, although there are times when his fervor seems forced. The only genuinely interesting character in the film is Cherish, played with bouncy enthusiasm by redheaded Alicia Witt. A porn star seduced by Cecil's charisma, she wants to have sex with him before they both go down in a hail of gunfire. Other participants include Adrian Grenier as the perpetually stoned leading man, Maggie Gyllenhaal as a Satanist contemplating ritual suicide, and Eric M. Barry as a film-lover who is rebelling against his parents' philistine cinematic philosophy. Also on hand are Waters regulars such as Ricki Lake, Mink Stole, and Patricia Hearst. Hearst's inclusion in the film is interesting, since the fictional tale of Honey's kidnapping and re-programming bears more than a passing resemblance to her own real-life story.
The more John Waters has achieved mainstream acceptance, the less daring his movies have become. His previous two efforts, Serial Mom and Pecker, have both been lackluster affairs. It's unclear whether Waters still sees himself as outside of the mainstream, but Hollywood has accepted him. And, like many independent directors who have been courted by willing distributors, Waters' edge has been dulled and his bile has been diluted. Despite its subject matter, Cecil B. Demented is aimed at the same multiplex audience it lampoons, but there's nothing here that will make any such viewer self-conscious or uncomfortable. As a satire, Cecil B. Demented is uninspired, and, as a motion picture, it's unfunny, charmless, and amateurish.
© 2000 James Berardinelli