I Shot Andy Warhol (1996)

"The male's by his nature a leech, an emotional parasite, and, therefore, isn't ethically entitled to both live and prosper... If SCUM ever marches, it will be over the President's face; If SCUM ever strikes, it will be in the dark with a six-inch blade." - Valerie Solanas in "The SCUM Manifesto"

It's difficult for me to be object about this film because I am such a Warhol fanatic. I know a lot about his life, his art, his films - and most importantly, about the circle of friends/freaks that hung about him like planets orbiting a blinding star. Andy's sublimity made him shine twice as brightly as one might imagine. In his world, he was God. And those that moved about him merely mortals. However, one of the few of these "mere mortals" I know very little about is Valerie Solanas. I know she shot Warhol. I know she was a bit of a loose cannon. I know she wrote a play called "Up Your Ass" that she wanted Andy to produce. I know she wrote a feminist manifesto for her organization SCUM (The Society for Cutting Up Men) which was eventually published. I know that when she shot Andy, he was not her original intended victim, she was looking for a publisher, but he was out, so she headed to Andy's "Factory" instead. I also know that she spent time in a mental institution and later died destitute and alone. I know that after he was shot, Andy was a changed man and nothing at the Factory was ever the same. All of this is included in the film, "I Shot Andy Warhol."

And, of course, Solanas is the focus of the film. In this 2 hour period, as the film runs, Andy stops being the center of the universe for a moment and little Valerie gets her shining spotlight dance. Of course, she only exists to shoot him. Her name, like Desi Arnez's in "I Love Lucy," is only implied in the title. Her fame inextricable from Andy's. Still, for those of us interested in the whole Warholian universe, the film is a wonderful document. It tells us a lot we never really knew.

The film's script is well researched. Written by Director Mary Harron with Daniel Minahan, additional research was provided by Diane Tucker. This is also supplemented with incidents taken from a book about Candy Darling, who was apparently closer to Valerie than other members of the Warhol crowd, and from a book by Jerimiah Newton, who is a minor character in the film. He wasn't so much a Warhol cast member as a kid who knew Valerie. All of this is compiled into a wonderful screenplay that often shifts from one story-telling device to another. Much exposition is voiced by the numerous characters that inhabit the film but there are also equally interesting segments where Solanas, played wonderfully by Lili Taylor, reads from her "Manifesto," or acts out her play's script. This later segment is inter-cut with the Warhol crowd; Andy, Brigid Berlin (Polk) and others; reading from it on the famous red couch in the center of the Factory. Harron also uses segments where doctors and psychiatrists explain much about Solanas' past. Although much of her troubled childhood is glossed over, the interesting facts come through; Solanas was molested as a child, she was raped, she had mental problems which she seemed to overcome to be a brilliant psychology student. She worked her way through college as a prostitute. Much of her interest in her collegiate years, however, is aimed at proving that men are inferior to woman and deserve to be removed from the planet. This gender-cide was the principle behind Solanas' "SCUM Manifesto."

On screen, however, Solanas becomes a real person thanks to Taylor's overwhelming exuberance at playing the character. She is so bright, so lively, so interesting and so intelligent that we immediately like and admire her. She's nobody's victim. Her masculine demeanor and her street-kid looks don't put us off in the least. We are spellbound by her charm and imagination. After a while, we begin to wonder why this film is portraying Solanas in such a favorable light - and then it all comes crashing down, and we see the whole picture come closer and closer to it's dismal climax. Taylor has to be this way in the beginning of the film, as Solanas surely was, to work her way into the heart of Warhol's Factory life and into the business world of publisher Maurice Girodias. She's a bit of a con artist but she has talent and (Andy's favorite:) "ideas." She could be a valuable commodity to either man. But, as the film unfolds, Solanas becomes more and more obsessive and paranoid. Her mind begins to fold inward upon her. She loses touch with reality. Taylor may be hurried here by Harron's sped-up ending but it is still sad to see her change so drastically. When she, at last, turns on the fey Jerimiah (Danny Morgenstern) it is almost unwatchable. When she goes to see Girodias, and he is out of town, we know what is to come next. The climactic sequence, where she carries out the deed that gives the film it's title, it is gut-wrenching. We want to shout at Taylor to stop before it's too late. We want to save her. Taylor has made us love and care for Solanas; We know Andy cannot save her (he never saved Edie or Andrea or Eric or...) and, even if Girodias could have, he is out of town. We know what fate lays in store for these characters and yet we almost cannot watch when that moment comes. Harron build wonderful tension in this final scene. It is unbearable to watch. After it is finally over, we know there is little but epilogue to come.

Taylor is surely the real find of the decade in this film. She is simply great here. Like Solanas did in real life, Taylor lives this character by the seat of her pants, doing whatever it takes to make it work. And while she has some wonderfully effective co-stars to aid her, a couple of the major ones hinder her. Steven Dorff ("Backbeat") plays Candy Darling with all the limp-wristed effectiveness of a dishrag. It's a lousy portrayal. I think Dorff may have approached Harron to play Solanas, which would be novel - but not as effective as Taylor, and the director moved him into this other role. He seems to have no understanding of the character here. His Candy is a dirty joke. Harron likes to make many of the homosexuals in the film giddy femmes, which may be representative of the facts even though it is politically incorrect; But her Candy is a fey waste of time. Dorff seems to have no understanding of the character's tragedy. Worse yet, we always realize it is Dorff in a dress and we never see Candy in our minds. The same problem affects Jared Harris' portrayal of Warhol. While this young actor has Andy's mannerisms and speech patterns down to a tee, his physical appearance always reminds us that this is one guy in a silver wig who isn't Andy Warhol. It isn't as big a problem as Dorff's but it does distract. Still, Harris has marvelous fun with the role and the segment here where he reenacts Warhol's interview on TV, in which he mainly answers her inane questions with a simple "yes" or "no," is right on the money. We just wish Harron would pull back the camera a bit more often and stop spoiling the illusion.

Otherwise, the cast is wonderful to watch. So many Warhol "Superstars" and hangers-on are represented in the film that the cast credits must run 15 minutes! Of these, we love the representations of Brigid Berlin Polk, Paul Morrissey, Fred Hughes, Edie Sedgewick, Gerard Malagna, The Velvet Underground, Tom Baker and Andrea "Whips" Feldman. They are all represented here in interesting form. If there is a quibble, it is that we don't see Edie enough, and when we do, she doesn't seem tragic at all. (Of course, her tragedy came a bit later) But, hers is a minor part.

Also in fine form are Morgenstern, who knocks our collective socks off in his brief screen time as Jerimiah, and Martha Plimpton, who plays a boyish girl (or is it a girlish boy) named Stevie. Capturing the essence of the Warholian mystique involving drag queens, Plimpton is wonderful here because she seems to remain in the periphery even though we see her quite a bit. She still looks 16 years old. She never seems to be acting. Also, we cannot figure out her intended gender. Her character's name, Stevie, does little to help us. Her actions do nothing to help us decide either. It is quite interesting and always a twist to the film when she appears.

One of the most wonderful things about the film, for those of us who love Warhol, is it's intricate reconstruction of the Factory and the scene at this time. There is a marvelous sequence where Taylor's Solanas enters the all silver Factory for the first time. Ignored by the scattered persons in the room, she walks through the place almost like a ghost. We get to take the trip around the place with her. It is like being able to walk back in time, into that amazing place for a brief moment. It is all there, the silver walls, the silver toilet, the pay phone, the "Marilyns," the aluminum foil, the mirrors, the red couch, the stark emptiness. We feel like ghosts as well, haunting a miraculous place from history for just a brief second. It's a beautiful sequence in the film and one that any Warhol-o-phile will find breath-taking.

Another great cinematic moment is when the same Factory, lit with red lights, plays host to a party/happening one balmy night. The recreation of the party is a blast to watch with gyrating bodies and randy acts abounding. This is also a segment where the drug use at the factory, as always - overseen by Brigid, comes into full view. What begins as a wonderful party scene evolves into a poignant moment in the film when we notice that, in the midst of all this mayhem, Valerie merely lurks in the fringe. Unlike Andy, who also lurks there, Solanas tries to fit in but is symbolically rebuked. Eventually, relegated to the sidelines, she sits on the couch next to Andy; The two are left alone. It is here they really connect, Valerie - the great revolutionary orator, and Andy - the artist and voyeur with the camera and the tape recorder, ready to take it all down; Both are, however, utterly alone. We see, with brilliant clarity, what he sees in her. We understand their connection perfectly.

"I Shot Andy Warhol" is a remarkable film. Still, one has to ask: Why Valerie? Where is the film about Edie? about Ultra Violet? about Joe Dellasandro? about Paul Morrissey? about Andy? There have been no biopics about this great artist, why does this one, the first one to cover this era in his career, concentrate on the character who ended it? Sure, it's an important part of Warhol's career - and his life, but there is so much more.

And, finally, where are all those old Warhol films? The ones made prior to 1970? Where are the retrospectives? The video collections? Aren't these just as commercially viable as this film? When will we see the only Warhol film that Solanas played in, "I, a Man," on videotape? There is so much material about the man to be disseminated to the awaiting public. Here's hoping that this film breaks the dam.

Note:

Also with Tahnee Welch and Donovan Leitch.

Score by John Cale, who played in Andy's band Velvet Underground. Director of Photography is Ellen Kuras. Costume Designer is David Robinson. Production Designer is Therese Deprez.

Music in the film by Jewel, REM, MC5, Joe Tex, Bob Dylan, Sergio Mendez, Blue Cheer, Lovin' Spoonful, Maria Callas, Dionne Warwick.

Warhol crowd members who are represented in the film: Andy Warhol, Valerie Solanas, Gerard Malagna, The Velvet Underground, Edie Sedgewick, Ondine, Billy Name, Ultra Violet, Viva, Brigid Berlin Polk, Paul Morrissey, Jackie Curtis, Rotten Rita, Fred Hughes, Andrea "Whips" Feldman, Tom Baker.

Others represented in the film: Olympia Press publisher Maurice Girodias, TV showman Alan Burke, Valerie's "friend" Jerimiah Newton, Mrs. Warhola (Andy's mom), Mario Amaya (magazine publisher visiting Factory, he is shot in leg during shooting).

Mentioned in the film: Eldridge Cleaver, Roger Vadim, Jane Fonda.

The Chelsea Hotel is thanked in the credits. Could some of the scenes actually have been filmed here?

Harron is a Britisher who has published several pieces on the 60's in general and on Warhol in particular. This is her first film.

Ultra Violet writes quite a bit about Solanas in her autobiography "Famous for 15 Minutes."

"I, A Man," the only Warhol film to feature Solanas, was filmed in July, 1967, with male star Tom Baker, and females (in addition to Solanas): Ivy Nicholson, Ingrid Superstar, Cynthia May, Betina Coffin, Ultra Violet, and Nico.

There was gunfire on at least two other occasions at the Factory: Once, several years before this shooting, a stranger wanders into the Factory late at night. He aims a gun at Morrissey's head and fires. The empty chamber clicks by and nothing happens. He aims in the air and fires a bullet. He leaves. Later Dorothy Podber, a star of 50's avant-garde films who has been hanging around Billy Name, comes into the Factory and aims a gun at Andy. At the last second, she shifts her aim and fires a bullet through a stack of six of Warhol's "Marilyn" paintings. This is considered, by Podber at least, an art happening. These "Shot Through Marilyns" become even more valuable.

Review written in 1996

Report Card

Script: A-

Acting: A-

Cinematography\Lighting: A+

Special Effects\Make Up: A+

Music: A-

Final Grade: A-