..Gary Dretzka
..Noah Forrest
..Leonard Klady
..R.J. Matson
..David Poland
..Douglas Pratt
..Ray Pride
..Michael Wilmington

Like the late, great singer-songwriter Phil Ochs, filmmaker John Waters ain’t marchin’ anymore.

“The question being asked in A Dirty Shame is, ‘Can tolerance be carried too far?’ … and, maybe, the answer to that is, ‘Yes,’” allowed Baltimore’s favorite son, while on the publicity hustings for his latest cinematic outrage. “I mean, how much of our time do we have to devote to marching in parades to defend the rights of dirt eaters and chubby chasers? How much love is demanded of a parent whose adult son comes home wearing diapers?’”

Few men have done more to open American minds to the plight of disenfranchised dog-poop eaters, obese cross-dressers and menopausal serial killers, but even Waters has his limit. Evidently, not everyone can be as open-minded as Jerry Springer and his evil spawn.

Just as Far From Heaven borrowed from Douglas Sirk’s oeuvre to offer an alternative version of Eisenhower-era morality -- and Blue Velvet revealed the seamy side of backlot suburbia -- the NC-17 A Dirty Shame dares to venture behind the locked doors and curtains of Baltimore’s blue-collar haven, Harford Road. Waters has explored such territory throughout his career, of course, but not recently with such twisted glee.

This time, the maestro returns to the heyday of his youth, when the sex was dirty, the air was clean and fetishes were those miniature carvings favored by lovers of aboriginal art. Today, of course, fetishes of the sexual persuasion have emerged from their respective closets, freeing practitioners to express their individuality on countless Internet websites and TV talk shows, and in glossy magazines too numerous to mention.

Yesterday’s perversion is today’s lifestyle choice. So be it.

“This movie is like a Noah’s Ark of fetishes,” emphasizes Waters, who was amazed by the parade of proclivities at his disposal. “I didn’t have to make anything up. No matter what I came up with, someone was already doing it.”

These fetishes ran the gamut from such mundane pursuits as leg worship, bondage, Latex and vintage underwear, to niche pursuits like “sploshing” (messy sex), “plushie sex” (toy worship), “shrimping” (toe sucking), “nasolingus“ (nose sucking), “infantilism,” “mummification,” “pie throwing,” “ozolagnia” (arousal from scents) and “odontophilia” (teeth and tooth-extraction worship). Among the more obscure pastimes involve heavy and hairy gay male “bears”; women who re-virginize themselves, via hymen restorations; habitual non-flushers of toilets; Roman showers, or “spew sex”; and felching, which you can look up yourself.

In A Dirty Shame, Waters imagines a neighborhood torn apart by clashes between Harford Road’s "Sex Addicts” against bluenose “Neuters.” The Neuters, who rally at the local convenience store, actually can be accused of fetishizing their own lack of sexual longing. The Sex Addicts are led by a Messianic tow-truck operator (Johnny Knoxville), whose recruits are awakened sexually after suffering concussions.

Lest anyone think trauma-induced nymphomania is a stretch, Waters is quick to point out that the conceit was inspired by an article he read in a mainstream newspaper. In other words, those expecting Hairspray: The Musical might be in for a bit of a shock.

That said, however, one of the many delights awaiting audiences pre-disposed to enjoying A Dirty Shame is the soundtrack, which overflows with the kind of ribald rock, rockabilly and R&B tunes once known as “party records.”

Most come of the songs are from the ’50s and ’60s, before hippie chicks openly flaunted their assets at be-ins, concerts and organized bra-burnings. Middle-class frat boys especially loved listening to all the sniggling references to sexual taboos, and especially enjoyed deciphering the double-entendres in the titles and lyrics of music by Doug Clark and the Hot Nuts (“My Ding-a-Ling,” “Baby, Let Me Bang Your Box”), Wynonie Harris (‘Keep on Churnin' [Till the Butter Comes]’),” Little Willie John (“Leave My Kitten Alone”) and the Fugs (“Boobs a Lot”). Also popular were the famously naughty comedy albums by Rusty Warren and Redd Foxx.

Waters said he always anticipates the music that will appear in his film, and usually delivers a song list alongside the first draft of his screenplay. For A Dirty Shame, he turned to frequent collaborator and pop-culture archivist Larry Benicewicz, and merely said, “I want sex music.” Presto! Instant soundtrack.

It was then up to the soundtrack’s co-exec producer Tracey McKnight to track down whomever it was who owned the rights to the music, and license it for something in the neighborhood of $60,000 or less.

“She should be in the CIA,” Waters quipped. “When I first started making underground movies, I didn’t know you had to pay for the music.”

Composer George S. Clinton not only contributed original music to the project, but wrote the rockabilly screamer, “Let’s Go Sexin’.”

Among the snarky titles included in the soundtrack album are “I Need Your Lovin’,” “The Pussy Cat Song,” “Baby, Scratch My Back,” “Moanin’,” “Hump-A-Baby,” “Tony’s Got Hot Nuts,” “Eager Beaver Baby” and “Itchy Twitchy Spot.” Waters borrowed “Sylvia” from an old Carroll Baker movie, and used it to help define Tracey Ullman’s suddenly-horny housewife, Sylvia Stickles.

“When I was a kid, I shoplifted ’Red Hot,’” Waters said, with a laugh.

Looking ahead, the maestro is anticipating the release of two compilation albums, “John Waters’ Christmas” and “A Date With John Waters,” for Valentine’s Day. No indication, yet, if these stocking stuffers will come with garter belts and six-inch heels.

- by Gary Dretzka

September 24, 2004