Waters builds to a didactic message that he underlines with Disney-esque dream dust (in various colors), as if to protect his sincerity with the disclaimer of self-mockery.

Pecker is a satire, but an incredibly good-natured one, which is not quite the contradiction in terms it might seem.

Think of writer-director Waters as the Frank Capra of an alternate universe and this film as his genially twisted version of "It's a Wonderful Life," and you'll begin to understand.

Waters gets uniformly bright performances from the large cast -- especially Christina Ricci as Pecker's girlfriend and Mary Kay Place as his mother -- and he succeeds in composing yet another twisted love letter to his home town.

Waters brilliantly skewers the pretensions of the New York art world and culture, and uses real people from that world in the process.

Sure, it's lighthearted fare, but that doesn't make it any less of a good film.

Frequently funny, just as frequently repulsive, it's filmed in Waters's trademark deadpan style that some adore and some loathe.

Finding hilarity in John Waters's latest movie title is the basic pre requisite for enjoying the goofy ingenuity of his new film.

It's also sweet, sentimental, rather funny and, as John Waters films go, surprisingly gentle.

It's a winning comedy, though some of Pecker's jokes inspire silence and some scenes are awkwardly staged.

Waters fills the movie with his usual touches of outrageously bad taste, but beneath the sophomoric shocks his story has a serious message about self-absorbed artists who care more about their own careers than the privacy of the people around them.

Pecker is a breezy, agreeable picture--a charmer, thumbs-up, three stars--but there's something disappointing about a John Waters film that's so evenhanded and all-embracing, even if its sunniness is "ironic."

If scandal, sleaze, and celebrity worship are our national religion, then John Waters is an American prophet.

As a whole, Pecker is enjoyable but also feels scattered and transitory.