WATERS TAKES THE PLUNGE 'DEMENTED' DIRECTOR BACK TO EARLY FORM.

Byline: David Kronke Staff Writer

Movie fans who have found themselves stranded in the middle of an artistically listless summer may appreciate the sentiment behind John Waters' latest assault on gentility, ``Cecil B. Demented.''

It concerns a renegade filmmaker (Stephen Dorff) who - when not shouting such aphorisms as ``Punish bad cinema!'' - kidnaps Honey Whitlock (Melanie Griffith), a frivolous, spoiled movie star and forces her to work (and for less than scale, at that!) in his rambling assault on the empty moviemaking machinery.

Soon, not only is she defacing a theater showing the director's cut of ``Patch Adams'' and shooting (with guns) at those shooting (with cameras) an even sappier sequel to ``Forrest Gump,'' she's kind of enjoying it.

And who wouldn't? Waters defined shock cinema in the '70s with such brazenly cheesy classics as ``Pink Flamingos,'' ``Desperate Living'' and ``Female Trouble'' before entering the movie mainstream with camp favorites ``Hairspray'' and ``Polyester'' before offering such light-hearted fare as the romantic comedy ``Pecker'' and the sitcom spoof ``Serial Mom.'' (Even at his most demented, he's been a movie buff - he's written down the title and his own rating for every movie he's seen since he was 16.)

``Cecil B. Demented'' marks something of a return to form: As co-star Patricia Hearst notes, it's his ``most mean-spirited'' film in quite some time.

Hearst, a frequent co-star in Waters' films, adds that the director remains in touch with his early days of renegade filmmaking. ``On the set of 'Cry-Baby,' '' she recalls, ``he came in and said to Mink Stole (another Waters regular), 'Do you recognize this location? It's where we were detained and had to go to court for filming a nude scene without permission!' There is a wistfulness about his past, but in his mind, the thing that's changed the most is money. He says he used to spend $1,000 a day; now he'll laugh and say his movie is costing $1,000 an hour or $1,000 a minute.''

Most filmmakers might think twice about asking Patricia Hearst - who was involved in a bit of unpleasant business in the '70s; perhaps you heard about it - to be in a movie about kidnappers who attempt to brainwash their subject, but Hearst just laughed. ``I called him after I read the script and said, 'You're a very sick man,' which he took as high praise indeed. I thought it was hilarious, so naughty, and I loved its take on Stockholm Syndrome.''

For his part, Waters says of Hearst, ``I think she hates the (Symbionese Liberation Army), she hates the cops who put her in jail - who's she supposed to like in that situation? She made all the right decisions - every single thing she did was the right decision because she's alive today.''

For his latest film, Waters looked to his twin passions, film and terrorism. ``I've got two shelves of those books, on leftist terrorists, on right-wing terrorist, every kind of terrorist, and I've read every one of them. I had great fun going to riots as a teen-ager.''

So Waters sat down to discuss terrorism and riots and underground movies in the comfortably posh bosom of pampered Hollywood, the Mondrian Hotel.

Q: A fan of riots, eh? You sticking around for the Democratic National Convention?

A: This is the only city where I'm scared of the police. If I'm going to be at a riot, I want to be in Philadelphia (home of the Republican convention). It'd be a better riot. Although there's better weather here. But you get out of jail quicker in Philadelphia - it's closer to New York, and there are more ACLU representatives nearby to help you. Here, you go to jail, and you stay - it's hard to get out of jail here.

Q: Who are your favorite terrorists?

A: The Weathermen were, then, the most defiant, because they had the Days of Rage where they'd just cause trouble. They did really politically incorrect things back then. All the '60s radicals who are free today just run day-care centers.

Q: And who do you consider the most pathetic terrorists?

A: (laughing) The anti-abortionist terrorists who dress as babies are pretty pathetic, though I like to read about them - they sit there with their thumbs in their mouths and go, ``Waaah! Waaaah!'' They turn to the cameraman and say, ``Aaah! Daddy! No!'' That shocked me, when I first read about them; their movement is called Adult Babies Against Abortion.

Q: The art direction of the old theater where Cecil hides out is reminiscent of the look of your '70s movies.

A: It looks a little like my old apartment, actually. I just love abandoned theaters, but I hate it when they take the marquees down. When the marquees are up, the more damaged they get, the better they look. Or when they lose their letters - when they start out reading, ``For Rent,'' then, ``F-r -ent'' until finally, ``F-r ---t.''

Baltimore still has one drive-in theater, which just shows family movies - of course, it used to show just gore - and it only has one porno theater, which just goes to show how much the city of Baltimore cares about people who don't have VCRs.

Q: Each of Cecil's disciples sports a tattoo naming a maverick filmmaker. Were there any directors you wanted to name but didn't?

A: Cecil likes (Pier Paolo) Pasolini film festivals, which most young kids aren't clamoring for. He's a traditionalist to the point of terrorism, and he wants kids not to forget these people. That part of his character is definitely me. Although I think it's a great time for young filmmakers, but I didn't want to add any until they've made more movies. Todd Haynes (``Safe'') and Todd Solondz (``Happiness'') are great.

All the studios are looking for these people these days. When I started, no one was looking for that. No one said my films were good, ever. It took a long time before we were accepted, but it was a different time. There was a cultural war. The audiences that made those films successful wouldn't have wanted the regular critics to like them. Regular critics were square. There's no such thing today - every critic is hip. There's no such thing as a critic who doesn't think he's with it.

Q: Your take on directors' cuts is inspired.

A: All movies are too long. All my movies are the same running - they're all 90 minutes. That's from my old 16-mm days - three reels, a half-hour each. A beginning, middle and end. That's a story, isn't it? No arcs here - it starts, something happens and it ends.

Q: So what were you doing, watching ``Patch Adams'' (whose ``director's cut'' Honey decries) in the first place?

A: I never saw it until I wrote the movie and I had to parody it. I secretly respect ``Patch Adams'' - it is a terrorist movie against my world. I would like to get a ``Patch Adams'' tattoo or just have, in my office, that poster. People coming in would look at it and wonder what the hell my problem was.

So I didn't watch it until I was writing this movie. To imagine having cancer and being in the hospital and having someone wacky like Patch come into the room - that would be really reason to get off for murder. Any jury would acquit you. So I was fascinated by it. And now I want to go to a theater and shout out the lines, dressed as Patch Adams, until the police take me away to a mental institute. I've changed my opinion - ``Patch Adams'' is a movie that will never, ever be forgotten.

Q: What other films do you consider ``terrorist movies'' against your sensibility?

A: I'm better at praising things that I like. As soon as I say a negative thing, I come to L.A. and go to a dinner party and look at a place card and (the filmmakers) are sitting next to me. I learned that long ago. (``Forrest Gump'' director) Bob Zemeckis can take it - he does big, hit movies that won the Oscar and made a billion dollars. That's a safe movie to pick on.

I wanted to call the police when Forrest Gump started running, the same way people called the police when Divine ate the dog (poop) (in ``Pink Flamingos''). There is no censor for me to call. If I called the police and said, ``I just saw a movie that is offensive to my community's standards,'' which ``Forrest Gump'' would be - they'd say, ``Tough.'' There are all sorts of community standards on both sides of the coin.

Q: What accounted for the weird little sounds during the sex scene we hear in the movie?

A: The brilliant sound editors of Fantasy Studios (led by Rick Angelella). They had such disgusting noises. One of his employees came up for a sound for the gerbils that was so rude and lasted so long - they had really worked on this one - it was a masterpiece of repulsion. It had many layers. It would've gotten beyond an NC-17. It was great. I said, ``Oh, my God.'' She (the employee) now has a T-shirt that reads, ``I grossed out John Waters.''

CAPTION(S):

4 photos

Photo:

(1 -- cover -- color) Ready for his close-up

Filmmaker John Waters offers up his latest oddity, `Cecil B. Demented'

(2) `No one said my films were good, ever. It took a long time before we were accepted, but it was a different time. There was a cultural war. The audiences that made those films successful wouldn't have wanted the regular critics to like them. Regular critics were square. There's no such thing today - every critic is hip. There's no such thing as a critic who doesn't think he's with it.'

John Waters

David Crane/Staff Photographer

(3) Stephen Dorff stars as the lunatic director who kidnaps an actress and forces her to act in his project in Waters' ``Cecil B. Demented.''

(4) Waters discusses a scene with his star, Melanie Griffith, on the set of ``Cecil B. Demented.''