Crackpot: The Obssessions of John Waters

You know the deal where you can only invite 5 people to dinner and who would it be? I would invite John Waters and invite him 5 times, just so he'd show up. This man is brilliant, yet at the same time he is sleazy and underworld and he knows it and doesn't care. Remember, this man discovered Divine. His movies are, literally, all over the map in terms of quality and taste and I've seen every one. This book is a little insight into the stuff that drives him crazy - I was surprised it wasn't everything.

I have been a fan of John Waters for years. I read Crackpot: The Obsessions of John Waters while sitting at a coffee bar near Bloomingdale's in NYC. I was surrounded by "the ladies who lunch." The book made me snicker, chuckle, guffaw, and produce a series of embarrassing noises produced when you try to suppress hysterical laughter in an inappropriate place. The embarrassing sounds made me laugh even more, and the looks of disgust from disapproving shoppers ultimately sent Diet Pepsi through my nose. I could not offer a finer tribute to anything produced by the mind of John Waters. God bless you, John.

I just finished reading Crackpot last week, and it kept me entertained from beginning to end. I'm not an avid reader, so being able to get through any book is usually impossible for me, no matter what the length. Not only was the book nice and short, but John Waters really does know how to keep your attention. His writings are a great compliment to his films and I can't wait to read Shock Value! I love you, John!

A great entertaining litany of odd and fascinating people, places, and things from John Waters home in baltimore to his favorite vacation point in los angeles.

This collection of essays is one of the most compulsively readable, and re-readable, books I have ever owned. I was drawn to it, as you might expect, by my enjoyment of Waters' camp classics. But to be honest, I enjoy Waters the essayist at least as much, if not more, than Waters the filmmaker. Waters' films, and particularly Pecker, Serial Mom, and Hairspray, set the scene for the miscellany of obsessions which animate this book. Crackpot offers a comforting way to understand Waters' recent turn to a more conventional cinematic venue: these films are *also* celebrations of his passionate likes (and dislikes).Waters writes a witty and acerbic prose, which conveys genuine passion for his obsessions, obsessions which include trials, the National Enquirer, Woody Allen's Interiors, dangerous candy, menthol cigarettes, and Christmas. His preferred methods seem to be the catalogue and the reminiscence: Waters' list of 101 things he hates, and 101 things he loves, are obsessive ruminations on the everyday, and Waters' methodical survey of his everyday touches gives new meaning to the sublime *and* the ridiculous. Most memorable to me, perhaps, is his LA Tour, a pre-OJ intinerary of murder, mayhem, and showbiz, and his loving tribute to the Enquirer. But his celebration of William Castle, or shame-faced coming out as a fan of avant garde, his ritualistic account of Christmas and his loving descriptions of his interests, home, and personal history all make for a case study of obsession that feels both candid and arch, in Waters' inimitable, and paradoxical way. If you read it once, you're going to read it again.

I have to add.... I read this book ten years ago and I still return to it when I want to laugh and look at inspiring essays. All the essays are inspiring and hilarious but a couple of them (or one) about showmanship represented at movie houses is required reading--if not the whole collection--for anyone wondering why many don't stop to talk about a book they read, instead of how amazingly fast they read the whole book; or for those who complain about the media and music and don't create their own; or those who can't pursue their dreams because they're saving up for retirement and childrens' college funds. Yes, I've stretched it completely. But my point in highlighting one of the essays is that at least there's someone saying it's OK to give a project or idea everything you've got, and there's nothing or anyone prohibiting illusion or hilarity.