Mother knows best, especially when it comes to murder, in writer/director John Waters’ outrageously twisted comedy Serial Mom! Following the family-friendly fare of Hairspray and Cry-Baby, John Waters swung back to the dark side for this devilishly cuckoo satire on the pressures of motherhood, America’s true crime obsession and the dangers of wearing white after Labor Day!
“A killingly funny spoof of crime and non-punishment … John Waters and Kathleen Turner bring out the sicko best in each other in Serial Mom.” – Peter Travers, Rolling Stone
Oscar-nominee Kathleen Turner, in a deliriously unhinged performance, stars as Beverly Sutphin, the world’s most perfectly perfect happy homemaker. Along with her doting husband (Sam Waterston) and two teenage children, Misty (Ricki Lake) and Chip (Matthew Lillard), she lives a charmed life straight out of Good Housekeeping. But this nuclear family just might explode when goody-goody Beverly’s hidden fascination with serial killers collides with her ever-so-proper code of ethics, transforming her from middle class mom to mass murderer! Soon, the bodies begin to pile up, and seemingly no one is safe from this relentless etiquette avenger … the neighbor who refuses to recycle, the video renter who won’t rewind, the math teacher who gives her son a bad grade … and the list goes on. As this quiet suburban neighborhood faces a horror even greater than a Neighborhood Watch meeting without cheese snacks, the question must be asked: can Serial Mom be stopped, and if so, who will organize the upcoming PTA bake sale? Filled with hilariously off-kilter bits (including Beverly’s shockingly nasty harassment of uptight neighbor Dottie Hinkle, played by Waters’ regular Mink Stole … “pussy willows,” anyone?), kooky cameos (from the likes of Traci Lords and Suzanne Somers), and a truly heroic star turn from Kathleen Turner (who somehow manages to make her blood-lusting psychopath a likable person), Serial Mom finds John Waters gleefully combining his signature sicko comedy with the high production values of a big studio film, and the joys of motherhood will never be the same. (Dir. by John Waters, 1994, USA, 94 mins., Rated R)