John Waters is a wicked Santa. Each year he pops up around America with a big familiar wink and an avuncular grin. But he wears a thin pencil mustache instead of a big white beard, and his bag of gifts is packed full of demented stories and bizarre anecdotes.
The Baltimore-born writer, filmmaker, and comedian, now 68, has shocked and delighted audiences for decades with cult indie films like Pink Flamingos in 1972 and Hollywood hits like Hairspray in 1988.
On December 12 at the Calvin, he will offer tidings of discomfort and joy with a new version of his one-man Christmas special.
The Advocate interviewed Waters by phone last week.
We know you love Christmas. What can we expect in this year’s show?
John Waters: It’s about everything. It’s about fashion, crime, movies, family. I talk about what I want for Christmas, and about what you should and should not give other people for Christmas. And I talk about Christmas things that I hate.
Like what?
Like fruit gift baskets. How insulting. I can buy a pear, for God’s sake. How dare someone send me pears. Real gift baskets should have things like porn and cigarettes in them. I’ve never seen a porn gift basket, but I think that’d be nice.
Sounds like you’re still in search of the right friend to give you one.
Well, I get free porn now anyway. The distributors send it to me. I’m on their press lists, I think.
How long have you been doing this show?
Eleven years. I first did the show in San Francisco, at The Castro Theatre, and it started from that. This year I’m touring the most cities — I’m doing 17 cities in 20 days. I’ve written it all, so right now I’ve just got to learn it. The show is 70 minutes long and I don’t use any notes. It’s just me up there.
The show itself is a tradition for you.
It is! Everyone else is off work at Christmas, but it’s when I work the most. It’s odd… Christmas is my material, so I might as well be doing it in July. But I’m always shocked to find that it actually is Christmas.
Have you done your Christmas shopping?
I’m trying. I have to buy about a hundred presents, and I’m behind.
You’ve talked onstage about your family, especially your two sisters and your mom.
My mom died this year. It wasn’t a tragedy — she was 90 years old. She had a great life and a great marriage. But I’ll have to go through my first Christmas without her. That will be weird.
Will that be a part of the show this year in any way?
My mother’s death?! Well, she used to joke about my films… She’d ask what I was working on, and I’d tell her, and she’d say, “Maybe I’ll die first.” So, I think that’s the only good thing I can say about her death. It’s the same thing I heard from the guy who played the singing asshole in Pink Flamingos. He said the only good thing about his parents’ deaths was that they never found out that he was doing that movie.
Your sisters have seen this show, right?
Oh, yeah. One of them lives in Alexandria, Virginia, and she usually comes to see the show. She says, “How do you get away with saying this stuff?” I say, “No one gets mad at it anymore because I’m not mean.” I’m crazy, but I’m not mean. That’s fine these days!
What has 2014 been like for you? You published a hitchhiking memoir, Carsick, for one thing.
I’ve been on the road constantly. I went on a big book tour for Carsick. I did a German tour of my other show, This Filthy World. I had an art show in Berlin. I had a 50-year tribute at Lincoln Center — that was really amazing. I presented films at the Baltimore Film Festival and the Provincetown Film Festival. I went to Oscar week and the Spirit Awards. There’s not a lot of white space on my calendar.
You must get a read on different cultures and cities as you travel.
Yeah, but everybody is kind of cool everywhere now. It’s not like there are a lot of hick towns anymore. I think it’s because of the Internet. You don’t have to leave where you grew up to be cool.
I think it’s most fun to go to a city you’ve never been to before. Last year I went to Boise, Idaho. I’ve always wanted to, because at the end of Pink Flamingos they say, “Let’s move to Boise, Idaho!” So, I got to say that onstage. It was really fun to finally be there. We’ve been saying we’d go since 1972.
And everywhere you stop, people approach you with stories about Christmas, right?
Oh, yes. I usually have a book signing afterwards, and they approach me about everything. They’ll all tell me about how the Christmas tree fell over at their house. Usually it was the dog. Or liquor was involved. But really, it happens a lot.•
A John Waters Christmas: Dec 12, 8p.m., Calvin Theatre, 19 King Street in Northampton. Tickets at (413) 586-8686 and at iheg.com
