Tuesday, 21 August 2012

Warhol Movie Posters






Andy Warhol movies are almost impossible to enjoy, particularly those directed by Paul Morrissey which play like bad 70's porno films but with worse acting and less explicit sex.

I recall watching Warhol directed My Hustler (1965) on late night television in my teens. I was intruiged by the huge amount of nothingness that filled the screen and confused by the rigid camera and fly-on-the-wall technique. The actors seemed uncomfortable, yet a little too real, dragging out a bathroom scene featuring a relatively fuzz free actor taking way longer to shave than it would take for a monkey to bic off all of it's body hair. Yet, I couldn't turn it off, I was consumed by the discomfort, I was nervous for the poor "actors", anxiously awaiting a skilled director to step into the scene and slap some craft into them. But this was the finished product, Warhol's peculiar vision. The director's satisfaction became my frustration, yet I watched to the bitter end and wondered why on earth I had bothered. I'd spent a whole 79 minutes waiting for something to happen, nothing did but my eyes belonged to Warhol. I'd just consumed a mundane slice of hustler life. He'd turned me from an innocent teenager into a seedy voyeur. Is that what he wanted?

Without Warhol's contribution to cinema, there would be no John Waters, so I suppose we can thank him for that. I recently visited a Warhol exhibition and was far more excited by the old cinema posters advertising his films and former exhibitions than I was about his famous prints. Above are the three beauties I considered stealing...

Flesh (1968)

Chelsea Girls (1966)

Lonesome Cowboys (1968)

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