Multiple Maniacs (1970) – John Waters.

I have heard it said that Multiple Maniacs inspired Mel Gibson to make his very own religious epic, if true, I don't feel we should hold this against Mr. Waters, as I believe his intentions were entirely dishonourable. An exhilaratingly mad melange of Roger Corman and Frederico Fellini, Multiple Maniacs remains an exquisitely outré descent into Divine depravity. With a rousing plenitude of fabulously permissive filth, who needs a cogent plot, Multiple Maniacs is 'Big Bad Mama' for the post-Manson miasma. Devine, a polymorphously perverse hybrid of Shelley Winters and an aggressively porcine Liz Taylor, a sultry skid row screen siren, erotically elephantine queen of the obscene.

I absolutely cannot find fault with Multiple Maniacs, it is the 'real' world that is sick, while John Waters films are a sublimely titillating, profoundly penetrating examination of man's insatiable predilection for annihilation. Everything dies, the sun will eventually burn out, but Devine's brassy brilliance shall never fade. My love of John Waters is of a religious fervour, and therefore, must be treated with scepticism, if you don't regard Waters as a saviour, that's fine, some believe Jesus died for our sins, while John Waters gave us good reason to keep on sinning! It must be said that Devine looked hotter than a witch's flaming titty, her creamily voluminous botty is such a thing fever dreams are made of!