How Kroger Babb’s Warped Sex-Ed Film ‘Mom And Dad’ Sparked John Waters’ Eclectic Career: Miramax Presents The Film That Lit My Fuse

Most filmmakers who list proud accomplishments in Miramax Presents The Film That Lit My Fuse would not include this favorite review of their work: “Like a septic tank explosion, it needs to be seen to be believed.” But few directors possess the subversive humor of John Waters, the Baltimore-based filmmaker who evolved from underground subversion – Pink Flamingos, Polyester, Female Trouble – to blockbusters – Hairspray – and now universal acceptance into the mainstream with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and a just-opened show at the Academy Museum called John Waters: Pope of Trash.

Fuse is where artists discuss the formative influences that gave them the courage and inspiration to tell stories. For Waters, the hat tip goes to Kroger Babb, the producer-showman of exploitation fare who minted money in the ‘40s and ‘50s by releasing movies of questionable quality that were propelled by the invention of marketing techniques that leaned into sex, shame, women of ill repute and nudity that made the films irresistible to repressed moviegoers.

Among the films Babb released were Monika, the Story of a Bad Girl – Kroger bought the American rights to an Ingmar Bergman film and cut out all the meaningful stuff to wind up with a crisp 62 minutes worth of sex scenes; She Shoulda Said No!, a cautionary tale of sex and marijuana use; and the Christ story Prince of Peace that was made so cheaply that telephone poles could be glimpsed in shots of the crucifix.

Babb’s greatest success, and the one that sparked Waters, was Mom and Dad, a morality tale about a young woman who gets knocked up and doesn’t know where to turn. It culminates in scenes of a live birth. Babb would take the prints from town to town and saturate them with grassroots advertising and contrived controversies that made the film seem like a cautionary tale. The effect: townsfolk starved for titillation flocked to theaters to see the forbidden tale, and the promise of onscreen nudity even though it came during a birth scene. His promotional gimmicks included sending emcees to appear during intermission to stoke controversy and render moral judgment (he sent Olympic gold-medal sprinter Jesse Owens to the pulpit for showings in predominantly African American areas). The film became the third highest grosser of the 1940s, and showed Waters how to make a buck with his own controversial early films by reveling in the notoriety.

Waters would find a partner for his early madcap films in New Line Cinema founder Bob Shaye, who had his own early success distributing Reefer Madness on college campuses and in midnight shows, and knew how to sell the outrageousness of Pink Flamingos, a film that culminated in its star, Divine, gobbling an actual freshly delivered steaming dog turd. Enjoy Waters’ journey.