Comedies

Pink Flamingos

Everyone should grow up with a fun uncle; one who lets you watch and read inappropriate things, encourages you to stay up late, and treats you like an adult even if you’re still in elementary school. He might wear Birkenstocks year-round, or perhaps Hawaiian shirts, and he definitely enjoys good food, good conversation, and good movies. My fun uncle was named Len, and sadly, he left this world far too soon. Len’s film collection was unparalleled, and I recently embarked on the complicated task of organizing his Criterion titles and distributing them to good homes. For reference, Len had the entire Collection, including every spine released before his death in December 2022. Several hundred went into my personal library, so it feels appropriate to celebrate Len and his final, incredible donation to my life with one of his favorites—Pink Flamingos (Disc).

I can’t remember if I first watched John Waters’ magnum trash opus on Uncle Len’s ancient TV set, or if I rented it later in my hometown. However, I’m certain Len was the one who first clued me in to this movie’s existence. I probably asked about the Divine magnet on his fridge, and he probably countered with the story of watching Pink Flamingos at a midnight screening in the 1970s with Mink Stole in attendance. One got the feeling that Len had a personal connection to this movie, and re-watching the Criterion edition now, I can see why. It’s made for people on the fringes of society, or maybe just the ones who wanted to march to the beat of their own drums. They didn’t follow the rules, and they didn’t wait for permission. One look at Divine’s strut down a Baltimore sidewalk, and you instantly understood—this person is weird, and in this universe, “weird” is a good thing. As a teenager, I loved Pink Flamingos for its unapologetic rejection of society’s (and cinema’s) norms. In my own life, I longed for the confidence of a Maryland drag queen.

I’m not sure what Babs Johnson served at her birthday party (apart from Amyl Nitrite poppers), but given her mama’s obsession with the Egg Man, I’ll bet an egg-white cocktail would have gone over well. While watching Pink Flamingos, I recommend drinking a Special Delivery cocktail.

Special Delivery

2 oz Gin

1 oz Pineapple Juice

½ oz Lime Juice

½ oz Grenadine

Egg White

Combine all ingredients in a shaker without ice. Shake vigorously for thirty seconds, then add ice. Shake again until chilled, then strain into a coupe glass.

“Shock cinema” isn’t normally my bag, but I have a lot of respect for directors with a unique voice. Watching a John Waters movie feels like a tiny act of rebellion in and of itself, and even as a middle-aged adult, I can’t help but worry my mom’s going to walk in, shake her head, and ban the movie from the house. Thankfully, I had an Uncle Len in my life, who told me it’s okay to be different. It’s okay to like the weird stuff. “Weird” is a good thing. Cheers!

Classic Films · Foreign

La Piscine

Image credit: La Piscine, 1969

There’s a film I’ve wanted to feature on this blog for many years, but resisted because it’s never been widely available. In fact, for a long time La Piscine (Disc) was my white whale, missing from every streaming platform and physical media source out there. Eventually, my dad took pity and purchased an expensive Alain Delon box set for me, and I was finally able to watch and fall in love with this gorgeous film. Several years later, thanks to the fine folks at Criterion, it’s officially coming to a Blu-ray player near you. This calls for a toast!

Although I’ve previously covered Luca Guadagnino’s remake A Bigger Splash on Cinema Sips, La Piscine is the quieter, sexier, deadlier version of this psychological thriller. Impossibly chic, it features Alain Delon and Romy Schneider as wealthy vacationers in the south of France who spend their days lounging by the pool, drinking wine, and making out like teenagers. Talk about a dream summer! Things seem idyllic, until Maurice Ronet and model Jane Birkin arrive to throw chaos into the calm. Although the plot mirrors that of A Bigger Splash quite closely, the difference is in the visuals. The 1969 version is like a step back to a world where style reigned supreme, and tension lived in silences instead of shouts. There was never a world so beautiful, or so anxiety-inducing, as that of La Piscine.

Whether you’re watching this film or relaxing next to your own gorgeous pool (hey, I still think my inflatable version is quite attractive), you’ll want a cool beverage to take the edge off. Easy to make and perfect for the hottest days of summer, I recommend pouring a chilled Lillet Spritz.

Lillet Spritz

2 oz Lillet Blanc

3 oz Prosecco

1 oz Club Soda

Strawberry and mint for garnish

Fill a wine glass with ice, and layer in the Lillet, Prosecco, and Club Soda, stirring gently to combine. Drop in a few strawberry slices and sprig of mint for garnish.

Having seen several stunning screenshots from this film cross my feed over the years, I knew the aesthetic of La Piscine would be one that would appeal to me. However, I didn’t fully realize just how much this movie would be like a Slim Aarons photo come to life. It’s a world I want to dive into (pun intended), and now, we all finally can. Don’t forget your bathing suit*, or the wine. Cheers!

COCOSHIP Retro One-Piece suit, $29.99 on Amazon.com

*If you’re in search of your own sexy suit for pool-time this summer, I highly recommend this one! Unbelievably flattering, you’ll be ready to hit the beaches of the Côte d’Azur (or, more realistically, the backyard).