Cast: Kathleen Turner, Sam Waterston, Ricki Lake, Matthew Lillard
Director: John Waters
Producers: John Fiedler and Mark Tarlov
Screenplay: John Waters
Cinematography: Robert M. Stevens
Music: Basil Poledouris
U.S. Distributor: Savoy Pictures
Serial Mom is a failed satire. From John Waters, a director with a decidedly non- mainstream list of credits (Polyester, Hairspray, Crybaby), this is an attempt to savage the perfect American family by revealing certain unsavory truths about Mom's homocidal tendencies. While the idea sounds fertile, the execution is uneven, and the comedy sporadic at best.
When you're around Beverly Sutphin (Kathleen Turner), you'd better watch what you say and do. An ill-advised word about her dentist husband (Sam Waterston) could get you a knife in the belly. Failure to rewind a rented video tape is a no-no, as is making derogatory remarks about the movie- watching habits of her son (Matthew Lillard). Don't even consider standing up her daughter (Ricki Lake) on a date. And whatever happens, don't wear white shoes after Labor Day. You see, even though Beverly is the June Cleaver sort of mother on the surface, scratch a little deeper and you'll discover someone with Freddy Krueger's disposition.
One of the film's major flaws is its handling of the main premise. Serial Mom self- consciously and clumsily establishes Beverly's homicidal tendencies. Too little time and effort is spent setting her up as a representation of the middle-class ideal, and the early parodies of suburbia (a ripe enough target) are derivative and poorly-realized. For the truth about Beverly to generate more than a momentary smirk, the set up has to be stronger.
There are exceptions, of course, but most of the humor in Serial Mom is too forced to be funny. To its detriment, the movie keeps trying, but the jokes rarely click, and Turner's performance is too automated to be effective. Even in parodies, it often helps to have some character identification. Here, there is none. Sam Waterston, Ricki Lake, and Matthew Lillard are solid in supporting roles. Director Waters has peppered the movie with an interesting slate of cameos, including Traci Lords, Suzanne Somers, and Patricia Hearst.
The best part comes during the last twenty minutes, when the film's observations on society's love of scandal and violence hit the bullseye. In this case, Waters' vision is perfect, and it results in the only worthwhile portion of an otherwise-dreary movie.
Regardless of how good Serial Mom's concept sounds in print (and how delightfully- offbeat the previews and TV ads look), the resultant product is disjointed and disappointing. It's easy to forgive faults in a picture like this if it delivers enough laughs or presents something inventive, but neither of those qualities is in evidence. Ultimately, Serial Mom is deserving of the same fate as any of Beverly's victims: a quick death.
© 1994 James Berardinelli