At the perfect intersection between the work of Mel Brooks and John Waters sits Lust in the Dust, a film so heavily indebted to the latter, that a couple of his collaborators appear in major roles, with a few others being considered for supporting parts (and Waters himself being courted to direct the film, with screenwriter Philip John Taylor designing it along the lines of what we would expect to see from the esteemed Pope of Trash had he made a western). However, directing duties instead went to Paul Bartel, whose Eating Raoul remains one of the most subversive and brilliant works of satire ever to be committed to film, and established him as someone whose career will live in infamy for as long as audiences have a sense of humour. Inarguably, Lust in the Dust is a considerable step-down from his previous work, but this does not invalidate the general aims of the film, which were to provide an equal blend of belly-laughs and shocked reactions, both of which are extracted from viewers who are willing to engage with the central themes of this film. Not necessarily the kind of film that lends itself to many recommendations, since it is likely those who will appreciate Lust in the Dust and its peculiar sense of humour are probably aware of its existence – but taken for what it is, and viewed from a completely objective perspective, there is certainly some merit in what Bartel was doing here, even if it is just offering 80 minutes of unhinged entertainment that may not be particularly profound, but certainly does have its own unique understanding of a few notable themes – whether it is successful or not in exploring them is another matter entirely.

It is undeniable that Lust in the Dust is not a particularly great film, since it exists as more of a novelty than anything else – whatever drove the writer to put these ideas together is more abstract than the actual flights of fancy the audience has to take in order to get through the film. However, while it is implausible and frankly ridiculous, there’s a level of upbeat hilarity underpinning the film that makes it so effortlessly entertaining, especially when taken alongside the more intricate discussions that Bartel and Taylor are actively trying to evoke, to very little avail, which is not as major a flaw as some would expect, since we are never asked to genuinely believe that what we’re seeing should be taken all that seriously in the first place. We can never tell if Lust in the Dust is trying to be a comedy with a deeper meaning (which would require us to take it somewhat seriously), or if it is aiming to be wall-to-wall madness, the kind of unhinged dark comedy based around ridiculous archetypes that don’t resemble anyone real, but rather exist as parodies of the kinds of characters we’d find in such films. If we look at it in this way, it’s not difficult to get on the film’s wavelength, especially when it becomes extremely clear that what the filmmakers were aiming for is a more entertaining style of the western – and while we are more likely going to be drawn to those comedically-tinged westerns that are more ingrained in the canon of cinema, there’s still value in appreciating what Bartel was doing here, even if it is a relatively minor effort that never quite reaches a notable point of contention.

One of the few significant and tangible problems with Lust in the Dust is that it doesn’t quite understand what it wants to be – as we’ve mentioned, it was clearly designed to be a pastiche of Waters’ films, the kind of bawdy and subversive dark comedy that uses forthright sexuality and shocking humour to court controversy – but unlike the filmmaker who inspired it, Lust in the Dust plays it far too safe, with the grotesque humour being only surface-level, which means it eventually abates after a while, proving that every comparison to Waters was merely promotional. It becomes quite conventional in terms of narrative structure, with a few macabre or highly sexualized jokes scattered in for good measure – and this is precisely where the film starts to fall apart at the seams, because we’ve seen so many western comedies that follow a similar structure, a film needs to maintain a level of originality to actually stand out, which we can’t really say is all that applicable in the case of this film, which serves as more of a reminder of better films. Comparison can sometimes be the most unfortunate way to look at art, but when everything in a film reminds us of half a dozen instances of it being done better, it’s difficult to avoid. However, this doesn’t invalidate the fact that Lust in the Dust is still wildly entertaining, granted we’re able to take stock of the various areas in which we’re asked to suspend disbelief, which would’ve been much easier had the film fully-surrendered to its forthright absurdity, rather than just provoking us to the point where we’re mildly shaken, rather than outright scandalized.

Part of the appeal of Lust in the Dust is the presence of Divine, whose career in the 1980s was truly fascinating. He never stopped collaborating with his close friend John Waters, who used Divine as his muse, but he also refused to solely be working under the director’s guidance, branching out into a range of different films, many of which saw the actor doing his best to take on more dramatic work. The question is whether or not Lust in the Dust was intended to be a homage to his more comedic work, or an attempt to do something more serious. There are a few moments in this film where we can sense a shadow of doubt about what the original intention may have been – it’s undeniably a comedy, but the promise of a bawdy and sexually-perverse experience seems to be a result of the editing process, which structured the film around Divine, who is giving a very good performance, albeit one that really isn’t done any favours by how Bartel frames his talents. Divine is still excellent, but there’s a lack of clarity in whether the role of Rosie was intended to be a hero or a villain, which the film doesn’t really answer. Similarly ambiguously defined are Tab Hunter (whose on-screen romance with Divine a few years earlier in Polyester remains iconic) and Lainie Kazan, who are playing major roles, but seem to be built from very sparse inspirations, the actors themselves tasked with bringing the characters to life, since the film isn’t really doing them any favours. Undeniably, Lust in the Dust was clearly not intended to be a particularly serious film when it came to its actors, but it is rather disappointing that such a gifted cast of a few notable individuals managed to feel as underwhelming as this – one would think that simply assembling them and having them be guided by Bartel’s direction would be enough, but it clearly required much more work, which is a good description for the entire film.

Perhaps the onus is on us for having high expectations – but when something seems as promising as this, it’s difficult to discover that it is really not all that interesting. Part of the problem comes in the marketing – the most memorable piece of media to come from Lust in the Dust is the music video for Divine’s cover of “Walk Like a Man”, which was produced concurrently to this film, and essentially worked as a piece of promotional entertainment. That video alone contains significantly more flourish and flair than anything in this film, whether it be the bright colours, provocative imagery or simply the raw, unhinged entertainment of seeing Divine traversing the New Mexico countryside, in search of pleasure and wealth. It’s not a failure, but it’s not the most effective use of our time, and Bartel (as gifted a filmmaker as he may have been) seemed to be the wrong person to bring this to life, since his ambivalence towards the story and the fact that he knew, regardless of how much effort he put in, he’d always be compared unfavourably to Waters, weighs down the film, forcing it to become a by-the-numbers comedy that really never gets anywhere notable, and simply requires us to just enjoy the experience as much as we can, since there’s really nothing else much for us to do. At the very least, Lust in the Dust is entertaining and fun, which is enough to maintain our attention, but not sufficient in keeping the film in our minds.