Role Models

Even though cult film director and proud Baltimore native John Waters is perfectly comfortable in his role as a celebrity, in his tart, frothy memoir Role Models he doesn't seem to have shed his gratitude for his status. He's worked hard to get to where he is, and the pleasure he derives from that accomplishment is refreshingly balanced with a genuine sense of—dare it be said of someone so fearlessly raunchy—wonder. What sets Role Models apart from other tell-all memoirs is Waters' focus. He examines and records both the big and small details of his subjects, ranging from his buttoned-up heartthrob hero Johnny Mathis to a tragic hometown stripper known as Lady Zorro. Nor does he shy away from obviously controversial types, befriending and defending former Charles Manson acolyte Leslie Van Houten, or cozying up with renegade porn director Bobby Garcia in his squalid, rat-infested shed. Though he doesn't hesitate to pass judgment, Waters never puts himself above his subjects, even those he disapproves of. Disarmingly funny, pridefully contrary, and always engaged, John Waters has made himself into an All-American role model for nonconformists seeking some direction. There's nothing deep or profound in Role Models but, like any good cult leader, Waters is deadly serious about his pursuit of Divine madness.