I am Divine

Plays Feb 13-20 at Cinematheque.

I Am Divine accomplishes a nearly impossible feat by not being completely outshone by its subject. When making a documentary about a figure as lurid and grandiose as frequent John Waters collaborator Divine, one could easily coast on the sheer spectacle of the performer and end up with a half-entertaining picture. Director Jeffrey Schwarz (Vito) does much more, and the portrait he creates is moving, entertaining, and damn funny.

Schwarz lands interviews with some of Divine’s closest friends and colleagues, including Waters, Tab Hunter, Ricki Lake, and myriad other Dreamlanders, drag performers, and self-proclaimed freaks of the American counterculture. But other figures, including Divine’s mother and high school girlfriend, shed light on the complex background that created one of cinema’s most recognizable characters.

For all its humor and absurdity, the core theme at the heart of I Am Divine is duality. We meet Harris Glenn Milstead, a bullied chubby kid from Baltimore who’s shy and loves food. We also meet Divine, a carnage-machine that channels Glenn’s rage into bizarre and hilarious performances. They’re two separate people, but at the same time, they aren’t. As Divine begins his drag career, the world of drag balls is rigid and stodgy. When he turns that world on its head, we see how he is influencing and changing the art of drag, while at the same time being completely apart from drag.

Divine the character is female, but Divine the person never identifies as female or transgender. The way different people refer to Divine as “he” or “she” is another example of Divine’s duality.  Divine’s film appearances are both trashy and transcendent, and despite the outrageous persona, Divine is able to deliver performances that are human and touching.

Glenn or Divine. Man or woman. Low art and high art. I Am Divine is about how none of these things are mutually exclusive.

Published in Volume 68, Number 20 of The Uniter (February 13, 2014)

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