Word: dallesandro
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Under the aegis of Andy Warhol, writer-director-photographer Paul Morrissey has fashioned another episode in the life of Joe Dallesandro who, in portraying the character Joey Davis, again plays himself. Joey is an ex-child star in movie westerns turned rock singer, who moves to Hollywood in an attempt to bolster a sagging career. He then proceeds--blithely, almost mindlessly--to partake of the pleasure various apertures of various bodies have to offer, apparently with the theory that if one can't get his foot in the doorway of fortune, an earthier variation of the metaphor will...
Joey's first and only Hollywood connection is Sally Todd (Sylvia Miles), a bleached-out starlet living off alimony payments and her TV game show money. He conducts this relationship with the bland, innocent dispassion and quiet self-sufficiency which have virtually become Dallesandro's (and Warhol's) popular trademarks--while she is a turbulent mass of emotions, insecurities, and hurts, always seeking his support without success. Her pleading queries--"Do ya think I look allright" or "Did ya think I was a good actress, Joey?"--find no response except their own echo; Joey's adrenalin seems to run only...
Heat, a faggot rehash of Sunset Boulevard, is about an aging, braying B-picture movie star (Sylvia Miles) who takes up with a narcissistic stud (Joe Dallesandro). The film was made by the Andy Warhol epigone Paul Morrissey, who, like his master, exploits the sorry selection of freaks who have been recruited for the cast. Thus the audience is invited to have a good laugh at the gargoyle visage of Miles, chortle over Dallesandro's near-autistic blankness, and revel in the antics of an obese motel owner, and a schizophrenic lesbian. The lazy profanity and the grungy, grim...
Trash. Paul Morrissey wrote and filmed this surprisingly short, well-edited and well-shot depression comedy for the Andy Warhol factory. Joe Dallesandro plays a heroin addict whose habit interferes with his sex life and Holly Woodlawn is his transvestite girl-next-door. For all its graphic sex and language, Trash maintains a point of view that is decidedly old-fashioned, morally speaking. As a result, this movie is a most original and affecting examination of the rapprochement of the Old America...
...macabre sort of way, they are both very funny. Trash, the first Andy Warhol factory film to be distributed commercially nationwide, is the story of a heroin addict (Joe Dallesandro) who is constantly on the verge of O. D.-ing. Perhaps this does not seem humorous in itself, but, for good measure, there is a running gag about Joe's smack-induced impotency. Paul Morrissey (who wrote, directed and photographed this epic) has structured his film around the gag; Trash is a series of boy-meets-girl-but-can't-get-it-up episodes, each one weirder than the next...