One of the best quotes from this movie:
"I am sick of listenin' to your bitchin'. The next time you feel a fit comin' on, go outside and bitch. Bitch at the air. Bitch at the trees. But don't bitch at us!"
Not quite Dreamland. The end of the line for the underground films before the jump into the semi-mainstream of Polyester. A grungy fable laced with the usual mordant humour and trash aesthetic. Divine is sorely missed, although Stole equips herself well as the shrieking harridan, Peggy Gravel. A satisfyingly dirty mix of mild digs at social attitudes, exclamatory ham dialogue and Waters' upturned logic.
Delightfully crass/silly/disgusting. This has to be some of Waters' most outrageous work. What's most impressive is the scope of it all, especially considering the DIY nature in which it was all made. The sets have a charmingly derelict quality to them. If you just accept Waters' vision of a trashy kingdom replete with lesbians and rats and Edith Massey as their queen, then you'll have a good time, too.