Rating summary
Movie | | 4.0 |
Video | | 3.0 |
Audio | | 4.0 |
Extras | | 5.0 |
Overall | | 3.5 |
Cry-Baby Blu-ray Movie Review
Reviewed by Brian Orndorf July 14, 2014
It’s almost impossible to believe, but there was once a time when John Waters nearly played by Hollywood rules. With 1988’s “Hairspray” and its PG
rating, Waters dialed down his interests in outrageousness while still preserving his love for the bizarre, making a dance movie the entire family could
enjoy (a real event from the director of “Pink Flamingos”), though parents were more likely to understand the references. In 1990, Waters upped his
game with “Cry-Baby,” achieving the next level of studio acceptance with an ode to the juvenile delinquent pictures of the 1950s, blended with
highlights from Elvis Presley’s filmography. This PG-13 endeavor was met with yawn at the box office, but it showcases the very best of Waters’s sense
of humor and enthusiasm for details, crafting a loving parody of already goofy efforts, sold with high energy, big music, and cast delighted to frolic
around the helmer’s playground of the absurd.
The year is 1954, and in Baltimore, the local teenagers are divided into “squares,” clean-cut kids from old money, and “drapes,” reckless youth from
the outskirts of town. Allison (Amy Locane) is a square who desperately wants to break free from her goody-goody life, uninterested in singer
Baldwin’s (Stephen Mailer) romantic interests. Allison lusts after Cry-Baby (Johnny Depp), the leader of the drapes, who’s often seen palling around
with his gang, including Hatchet-Face (Kim McGuire), her boyfriend Milton (Darren Burrows), pregnant Pepper (Ricki Lake), and ill-tempered
bombshell Wanda (Traci Lords). When Allison and Cry-Baby make a connection, Baldwin makes trouble for the couple, using the law to separate the
amorous twosome, hoping to snap his object of desire back to her senses and resume their vanilla affair. The drapes, unwilling to stand for such
injustice, fight to protect Cry-Baby, teaming up with his Aunt Ramona (Susan Tyrell) and Uncle Belvedere (Iggy Pop).
For a filmmaker used to a certain low-wattage style and emphasis on the odd, “Cry-Baby” is a significant leap forward in screen artistry for Waters.
It’s also a uniquely motivated feature, with the helmer cheerfully imagining the passions from the pictures of his youth, toying with the extremity of
troublemakers as he creates a war between the drapes and the squares, who battle through song and pranks, escalating to violence early in the
effort. Waters has fun with the work, but it’s all safely exaggerated to facilitate his dedication to the bizarre, with Hatchet-Face a homely charmer,
quick with a switchblade and bad with make-up, while the drapes take refuge at Turkey Point, Ramona and Belvedere’s sanctuary junkyard, where
baths are conducted in the front yard and French kissing is not just an offering of affection, but something of an Olympic sport. While Waters dilutes
his typical outrageousness to satisfy Universal’s need for a teen-friendly rating, pockets of mischief remain, maintaining his personal touch as “Cry-
Baby” reaches out to a wider audience.
It’s a wildly entertaining picture, sustaining a fluid satire of Elvis movies, with Cry-Baby the tragic hunk with a golden throat, blasting through
rockabilly numbers as the character flirts with love, bares his soul, and enters a juvenile detention center (Willem Dafoe has a silly cameo as a tough
prison guard). He’s tortured, as these types tend to be, still burning from the death of his father, a victim of the electric chair, causing an emotional
blockage that manifests itself in the expulsion of a single tear when worked up. It’s all cat-nip to Allison, who becomes magnetized to the ruffian,
with her devotion challenged by Baldwin, her grandmother (Polly Bergen), and her own doubt, watching noted spoiler, and town bicycle, Lenora (Kim
Webb) try to steal Cry-Baby’s focus with a fraudulent pregnancy scare.
“Cry-Baby” is a little short on plot, but what’s here is engaging, sold with spirited performances and the periodic arrival of jaunty musical numbers,
mixing rock and roll and doo-wop. Depp is game to go where Waters leads, and his commitment to the part (boosted by a desire to shed his “21
Jump Street” teen dream label) is exactly what “Cry-Baby” needs to achieve a balance between cartoon and crazy. A supporting cast of varied faces
also clicks beautifully, with Lords striking as sour teen who wants out of her white bread life, Tyrell explosive as Cry-Baby’s gun-totin’ guardian, and
McGuire blissfully unhinged, playing up every last snarl as Hatchet-Face, bravely committing to ugly. For fun, Waters tosses in a few cameos to
preserve the tribute, spotlighting Troy Donahue, Joey Heatherton, and David Nelson.
Cry-Baby Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality
The VC-1 encoded image (1.85:1 aspect ratio) presentation keeps "Cry-Baby" visually alert, but still suffers from the filtered appearance of a Universal
catalog title, smoothing textures and presenting a modest amount of haloing. Colors are passable, with Lords's cherry lips and blonde hair ideal for HD
viewing, while costuming highlights and drape hangouts bring out an assortment of hues the disc handles adequately, without overt muting. Fine detail
also remains to a slight degree, bringing out the troubling facial features of a few actors, while frame particulars are a little too soft for a full inspection.
Blacks are communicative, preserving evening activities and a low-lit jailbreak sequence. Print is clean, without pronounced damage.
Cry-Baby Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality
The 2.0 DTS-HD MA sound mix seems a little strange on paper, but the limited scope is an accurate fit for Waters's filmmaking style. It's an active mix,
with key elements remaining fresh and inviting. Music is obviously the priority, and musical numbers are pronounced, with a healthy low-end and crisp
instrumentation, while vocals are clean and true. Soundtrack selections are also satisfactory, preserving the period mood. Dialogue exchanges are
defined accurately, capturing group dynamic and, as to be expected with a John Waters movie, extreme acting, without pushing into distortion, though
some crispy highs are occasionally reached.
Cry-Baby Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras
- Commentary with John Waters (and a muted moderator) is a wonderful addition to the filmmaker's collection of fantastically
entertaining tracks. A natural-born storyteller who's absorbed every detail of his life, Waters shares everything about "Cry-Baby," chatting up cast
peculiarities (including Tyrell's abrasive behavior), cinematic inspirations, and personal history with the era. He's a fountain of knowledge and stuffed
with anecdotes, making the commentary a priority for any fan of the movie.
- "It Came From Baltimore" (47:38, SD) is a superb 2005 overview of the "Cry-Baby" production experience. Armed with his
largest budget to date and the support of a studio, Waters was free to feel out his imagination for his "trash epic," taking inspiration from the juvenile
delinquent films of the 1950s, his own youth with drapes and squares, and "model" magazines of the era. Interviews with cast (including Johnny Depp,
Traci Lords, and Amy Locane) and crew (featuring Waters's "Dreamland" team) are candid and highly amusing, exploring the demands of the shoot and
its numerous idiosyncrasies, including a strange story concerning the circling of wagons when the feds came to arrest Lords for troubles tied to her time
in porn. Talk of musical achievements, deleted scenes, and the unpredictability of MPAA rules are also included.
- Deleted Scenes (7:02, SD) present a handful of snipped moments, including a few featuring Wanda and a slimy
pornographer overseeing a room of models, a square performance of a chicken-themed song at a battle of the bands contest, and a nightclub
performance scene featuring a child contortionist.
- A Theatrical Trailer has not been included.
Cry-Baby Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation
While it's lacking the type of brazen misconduct that's defined most of his career, "Cry-Baby" brings out the best in Waters. His enthusiasm for this
world and its cinematic influences registers with certainty, making design elements just as compelling as the saga of the titular character. It's a delicious
movie at times, a valentine to a bygone era of obsession and cultural disruption that pours out of Waters with surprising control. He's always been
confident with audaciousness, but "Cry-Baby" builds on "Hairspray" and its nostalgic leanings, finding its own position as a tilted musical -- a paean to
the absurdity and understandable urges of the past.