Paul Morrissey

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A Walk Into The Sea: Danny Williams And The Warhol Factory Review


Excellent
Do we need another film about Andy Warhol and the factory? The answer, on seeing Esther B. Robinson's A Walk into the Sea: Danny Williams and the Warhol Factory, is yes -- sort of. Robinson's film is a dreamy sort of mystery, a manhunt where the thing being hunted is not a body but a personality, one that seems to have gone missing over the years, painted over in other peoples' memories. It's extraordinary in a wanton sort of way, beautiful and ultimately purposeless, which, come to think of it, pretty much sums up Warhol and Co.

Robinson's family connection to the story is tenuous but intriguing. Her uncle, Danny Williams, was a bright young kid from Massachusetts with a promising future who, after a brief flurry of creative activity in Manhattan, disappeared after a family gathering in 1966. His body was never found, but it was widely assumed he drowned in Boston Bay, whether by accident or design. By happenstance, decades later Robinson happened to be working at the Warhol Foundation for the Arts when her connection was discovered and she was directed to a Warhol archivist who had unearthed a collection of 20 silent short films which were similar to but quite different from Warhol's other work and were marked "Danny Williams," who nobody knew much about.

Continue reading: A Walk Into The Sea: Danny Williams And The Warhol Factory Review

Blood For Dracula Review


Terrible
Those requiring proof that Criterion is capable of releasing sub-par movies from time to time need look no further than Blood for Dracula, a Andy Warhol co-production that ranks among one of the worst and least faithful Dracula intepretations ever made. Udo Kier is Dracula, played as a villain so frail he vomits blood ever 10 minutes. He needs virgin blood, but all the lasses he encounters are strangely, um, experienced. Cute premise, but it's played straight, with nary an (intentional) laugh.

Flesh for Frankenstein Review


OK
Camp is an understatement. This film, a partial product of the Andy Warhol art machine, reinvents the Frankenstein story as a sexed-up tale of incest, dismemberment, and 3-D gore, all ending in a slaughter on par with Hamlet... if it was written by John Waters. Horror fans will love it, as will friends of bizarro cinema. The rest of you are well-advised to steer clear.

Nico Icon Review


Weak
She lived Gia's life before Gia did. Nico, born Christa Paffgen to a father who died in Hitler's army, had a small part in La Dolce Vita, hawked all kinds of junk on TV commercials, moved to the states and became one of Andy Warhol's entourage, hooked up with Lou Reed, Jackson Browne, and Jim Morrison, started her own singing career, and ended up a worthless heroin junkie, dead at 49. That's probably 20 years more than she should have lasted, considering the paucity of her talents, but catching a look at what took a gorgeous kid, full of life, into a rare freak show is certainly worth a look.
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