Film Notes for March 16 to 22, 1998

Movie-wise, a relaxed week for me. THE APOSTLE, THE BIG LEBOWSKI, LOVE AND DEATH ON LONG ISLAND, NIL BY MOUTH and WACO: RULES OF ENGAGEMENT are in the cards for next week, however.

March 21

Amorphous and, along with HAIRCUT (NO.1), THE LOVES OF ONDINE (Andy Warhol, 1967) is among the least interesting and funny of the Warhols I've seen. The formlessness has been blamed on Paul Morrissey's increased influence on LOVES's second half (after 1967, Warhol's involvement in films was as producer while Morrissey took over the directorial duties).

LOVES begins with openly-homosexual Ondine alternating between tease and combat modes with three women he entertains the possibility of bedding. First up is Pepper, and there is no joy in watching her reprising her doormat role from THE CHELSEA GIRLS. She gravitates towards the Warhol circle where she is sacrificed as comic pawn. Luckily, Ondine is more playful with Viva (who will later upset the homoerotic camaraderie in the much funnier LONESOME COWBOYS) and not as insulting with Ivy.

Afterwards, the already thin LOVES disintegrates into bouts of wrestling (first nude with food then "collegiate" style) and incoherent slumber parties.

Apart from the lack of direction, the problem was also in front of the camera; Ondine is not as interesting nor as witty as we are supposed to believe. I'm hesitant in using "wit" in association with Ondine's on-screen chatter. It's more akin to well-practised malevolence that hesitates at nothing to gain the upper-hand on film. Misogyny is there in spades, as well as an overinflated sense of self-importance. Fun to watch? Far from it.

March 22

FULLER FRAME BY FRAME (André Labarthe, 1987) shows Fuller as an amiable cigar-smoking comic. With PICKUP ON SOUTH STREET at the moviola, Fuller reveals the thought and process behind its opening scenes: his adaptation of the crime novel focuses on Skip the pickpocket because of his acquaintance with a few; that he chose to have a replica of a subway station built instead of filming on-site for greater control; his concern for detail (actual turnstiles that will only turn the correct way when a nickel was deposited); how he initiates interest and suspense. Fuller cedes that his initial concern when scripting a film is its look; "the camera is my typewriter."

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Thoughts that McCarthy and his mob may have made donations to the PICKUP ON SOUTH STREET (Samuel Fuller, 1953) budget may enter your mind considering the frequent short shrift the Communists get. Not only are the commies depicted as shady, nervous gun-toters occupying a far lower sphere than thieves, snitches and the like, but at times PICKUP strikes one as being an anti-red recruitment flick.

Little matter, though. PICKUP proceeds at quite the clip with a script that gets lots of narrative mileage in a few pert lines. A pickpocket nabs top secret microfilm from a purse prior to its delivery to the reds. The purse belongs to Candy, a prostitute on the mend who later falls for Skip, the recently-incarcerated pickpocket. Skip ain't so trusting, and to top he's one smooth operator with an easy smile. Money demands may pop up frequently in his exhanges with the clearly-smitten Candy, but at least there's a clear sense of what he's after unlike those shifty, sweaty commies.

While it is amusing to see how Fuller results to formula whenever Candy is on screen (the Vaseline on the lens for that fuzzy focus effect), he's an equal-opportunity bruiser; besides Moe the female informant, Candy endures the most physical harm here, the punching bag in every other scene. I'll add that this was a time when stunt doubles were not the staples they are today, which makes her participation in the action scene a mild surprise.