I have John Waters’ Serial Mom to thank for my brief turn as a pyromaniac. One viewing of the film as a 12-year-old kid upon its 1994 release, and I became quite fascinated with the idea of taking a lighter and aerosol can and discovering the delightful mischief that could happen after seeing the film’s titular character use the same method to get rid of one of her victims. One neighbor’s burned fence later (courtesy of me and my best friend Josh), and Serial Mom was strictly verboten in our house after being declared a negative influence due to its depictions of violence and mayhem. However, what my well-meaning parents didn’t get was that it wasn’t any of the gore or chaos caused by the film’s main character which made the film so appealing, it was the idea that such behavior could possibly be found within all of us.
In Serial Mom, Kathleen Turner plays Beverly Sutphin, the embodiment of the perfect Baltimore housewife, married to respected dentist Eugene (Sam Waterston) and mother to college-aged Misty (Ricki Lake) and horror movie-obsessed high schooler Chip (Matthew Lillard). However, Beverly masks a dark secret – she’s actually a serial killer ready to bump off anyone who gets in her or her family’s way.
Like every movie Waters ever made, Serial Mom is bursting at the seams with comedy both dark and absurd. No other comedic filmmaker has taken such glee in venturing into territory which makes other directors shiver. Only Waters can have Beverly plunge a fire poker into the back of one of her victims and then wince when she sees she has inadvertently pulled out his liver by accident. Waters actually makes such a scene feel funny, especially when Beverly tries not to get sick as she tries to slip it off of said poker. The way Waters defiantly refuses to ever ease up on the dark comedy and violence as the film progresses is what gives Serial Mom its real energy. How else do you top killing someone by dropping an air conditioner on them? You do it by having your character beat them to death with a leg of lamb as Annie plays on TV in the background, with every strike remaining in tune with “Tomorrow.”
The way Waters has written Beverly as not just the epitome of picturesque Americana, but also a lesson that such madness can be found in anyone is sheer brilliance. At the same time, there’s something oddly heroic about this maniacal suburbanite. In many ways, Beverly is someone who wants the world to be better and thinks that by eliminating those who don’t uphold society’s standards, she is doing her part and genuinely improving the world around her.
What makes Serial Mom so fascinating was how it was ahead of its time when it comes to the other side of its ideology. Released mere months before O.J.’s infamous freeway chase and ensuing trial, Serial Mom had its character’s fate play out in exactly the same way, giving a sign of what was to come. When Beverly is caught, she is held up as both a hero and villain in they eyes of the public. But above all else, she’s a interesting figure ushered into offbeat celebrity-dom with book and TV deals, including a mini-series starring Suzanne Somers (who hilariously plays herself here). Waters makes no excuses for exploring the culture of serial killer fascination and the people who morbidly celebrate them. Now in this era of Court TV, exclusive interviews from prison, and publicists who manage press duties for mass murderers, Serial Mom proved that Waters’ surreal vision of American society was eerily spot on.
Waters’ films have always been far from being considered Oscar bait, and Serial Mom was no exception. Yet Turner certainly deserved a nomination for the sheer fearlessness she exhibited just by taking on the role. The actress doesn’t care if Beverly is likable or not, but instead takes every great pain to keep her interesting and makes sure that her motives and mission remain clear. All of the other actors in Serial Mom, including Mink Stole as a neighbor Beverly tortures with obscene phone calls and Patty Hearst as a juror at Beverly’s trial, do their part to give the film some noticeable color. However, this is Turner’s show, and the actress doesn’t waste the opportunity to take it as far as she can…and then takes it even further.
Serial Mom was certainly a turning point in Waters’ career. It was the first time he was able to woo an Oscar-nominated Hollywood A-lister to one of his projects, and by doing so, allowed the flavor of his warped and distinct humor to be seen on a wider platform. Even more remarkable was that it was embraced by those who saw it. Though Serial Mom wasn’t a monster hit, audiences lapped up both the humor and the social commentary. Waters has since continued to flourish as a filmmaker by exploring the idea of voyeurism and photography with Edward Furlong in Pecker and crazed indie filmmakers with Melanie Griffith in Cecil B. Demented. Though he’s yet to repeat the success of Serial Mom, both Waters and his film remain classic staples when it comes to uncovering the subversiveness of American society and laughing hysterically at it.
The Package
The amount of special features here is the very definition of an embarrassment of riches for any fan of this movie. Besides a retrospective documentary and commentary left over from the film’s 2008 DVD release, there’s a new making-of, as well as a sit down conversation between Waters, Turner, and Stole which alone is worth the price of the disc.
The Lowdown
Wildly animated, unapologetic, and wickedly dark, Serial Mom is still just as fun and clever as it ever was.
Serial Mom is now available on Blu-ray from Shout Factory!
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Serial Mom — [Blu-ray]
