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Andy Warhol: Life and Death
Andrew Warhola was the sickly child of Slovak immigrants who came to the poor section of Pittsburg looking for a better life. From all accounts (from his brothers James and Paul Warhola to apprentice/"Whip Dancer" Gerard Malanga) Andy didn't fit in with the other boys too well, and he naturally gravitated to the arts and the glamour of Hollywood. Like a still life painting, the video crew shows us Andy's house at 3252 Dawson Street, and strolls past his elementary school where he first learned to draw. His bothers narrate as they display never before family photos and other early shots of our talented child. With no regret, Paul Warhol explains how their dad scrimped and saved to make enough money to send Andy to Carnegie Mellon so he could take advantage of his gift, but maybe it was because he knew that his effeminate son could never handle the rigors of factory life.
The decade-by-decade account shows us Warhol's move to the Big Apple where he ventured into commercial art, making those fabulous shoes and cats and dogs for fashion magazines, rubbing elbows with the Abstract Expressionists at Serendipity III, and fawning over Truman Capote. With a knack for pointing out the beauty and the horror in everyday objects (from soup cans to the headlines) Warhol became the face of American Pop Art, and in short order made iconic screen prints of Marilyn Monroe, Jackie O, Elizabeth Taylor, among others. The toast of the town, Warhol's workspace soon became as popular as his paintings, as everybody who was anybody in New York wanted to party at the Factory. In the mid-Sixties, at the height of success, Warhol decided to give up paintings and go into producing underground films and music. While celebrities dropped by the Factory, it was his own entourage that became his stars, or Superstars, as they would be dubbed. Ultraviolet talks about the phenom that was Edie Sedgwick. A good section of the documentary uses Billy Name's stark black and white photographs and vintage newsbytes in creating a good portrait of the doomed blonde (on blonde?). Billy Name, himself, talks about how Warhol met another striking blonde, Nico, and how the artist would impose her as the front woman for the new rock and roll band he was sponsoring, the Velvet Underground. Missing is a quote or two from Lou Reed, John Cale, or any other band member, but instead we get the dependable commentary of filmmaker/critic, Jonas Mekas, an absolute authority when it comes to the New York scene. He describes Warhol's infamous multimedia show, the EPI (Exploding Plastic Inevitable), that took place at the Dom (a Polish social hall) on St. Marks Place. Unfortunate for the film crew that got there a few years too late, the Dom's legendary stoop has been replaced by a Quiznos storefront; and in that way the film documents the extinction of some of New York's landmarks.
Speaking of extinction, Warhol himself was almost taken out by a mentally challenged, Valerie Solanas, a disgruntled feminist writer who shot him at the Factory's second location off Union Square. The subject matter is dealt with about as much class as a poke in the rear by the speed-addled publishing-heiress, Brigid Berlin. That awful, "Valerie, Don't!" voiceover comes back right before the shooting is compared to the assassination of Kennedy. Andy Warhol enters the Seventies almost as weak and vulnerable as he was back in Pittsburg, but he gets back on his feet with rock star status; just in time collaborate with Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones. He not only prospers throughout the "me" decade, his commissioned portraits become the status symbol of the greedy-set. The studio started to become more like a production line again, and that was good for Warhol, because he didn't have to host the party anymore, Studio 54 was like the disco version the Factory, anyway, and it was an entertaining way to drum up more business. By then collaborator Chris Makos and Interview Magazine editor Bob Colacello were expected to hustle celebrities, political figures, CEO's and their spoiled wives in for their portraits, as the latter explains on camera, no one looked to Andy for cutting edge art anymore, but his illustrated Polaroid's were paying the bills.
Chris Makos ventures into the delicate area of Warhol's love-life, as he was responsible for introducing him to Jon Gould, the guy who would help get over the break-up of Jed Johnson. Again, rare photos are shown of vacations and we get to see a more private Warhol. But as with most Warhol bio's out there, Vies Et Morts D' Andy Warhol With text by the controversial J.T. Leroy, the cool factor of the doc is reduced by one of the most annoying and distracting soundtracks ever. Instead of creating the mood of the time and place when Billy Name starts describing the "Silver Factory," they play this awful faux heavy metal music. Even E True Hollywood Story Video: Sound: Extras: Music Videos: Ms. Warhola's Kielbassa Photo Gallery: Trailer: Final Thought:
Why are our days numbered and not, say, lettered?
Woody Allen
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