Waitress

I don't think this film is a cult classic, yet. I hope it will be soon. For now, it's a story of overcoming adversity, with lots of stereotypes and language slapstick. But it has the basics to become a cult classic.

There is a recognizable mentor (Andy Griffith) as the Chorus, telling the reluctantly pregnant protagonist Jenna everything that she already knows. There are random hilarious musical cues, and there are a few quotes which, if they were in a Coen Brothers film, might become instant classics:

"You're doin' it again ... that nice guy, talky thing."

"Un-congratulations, you're definitely having a baby."
"Un-thank you."

"I want drugs. I want massive amounts of drugs. I want the maximum legal limit of drugs."

But the music, and the script, and the mawkishness by themselves are not going to give this film cult-classic status. Keri Russell's performance could take it there. Yes, the script tells her that now she must jump into the arms of her Hero, but there are plenty of closeup scenes in which her face, her eyes, her reddened cheeks, tell the story.

What might eventually push this film toward that classic status is, I am the last to report, the murder of multitalented director/writer/actress/songwriter/set decorator/what else ya need?, Adrienne Shelly, shortly after filming wrapped. Watching a feel-good movie about overcoming abusive stalkers is no charm when random violence barges into real life like that.

And when bad hubby Earl is eventually taken down by doctors in a hospital, rather than, for instance, all of Jenna's friends in a biker bar, it does seem a bit of a letdown.

I hope this film becomes a cult classic someday. Look for it at your favorite midnight-madness outlet near you. Meanwhile, a recipe:
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Pregnant Miserable Self-Pitying Loser Pie:

Lumpy oatmeal with fruitcake mashed in.
Flambé, of course.
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Rest in peace, Adrienne.