Joe Dallesandro plays Joe, again, only this time he’s not a street hustler but a junkie. He lives together with his nagging wife (Holly Woodland) and all he wants is another fix. And much like the previously-reviewed Flesh, he goes in search for it, meeting all sorts of weird people around the way, from a spoiled young girl to a rich couple.
This is my favorite movie from Paul Morrissey’s Andy Warhol movies, although Flesh For Frankenstein has to be my favorite of his movies overall. Dallesandro basically plays himself again, and offers very little in character, but he’s great to look at and very interesting, sort of like James Dean. I love his scene where he’s falling asleep as his wife masturbates with a beer bottle in front of him, trying to get him hard (he’s impotent thanks to the drugs). And speaking of his wife, Holly Woodland really should have been nominated for an Academy Award. She is loud, obnoxious, and funny, but when she finds out Joe is sleeping with her pregnant sister, she really becomes a human being. She gives a great performance, one of the most underrated of all time, and it’s a sad thing that the homophobic movie industry couldn’t give her the roles she deserved. I could see her in roles played by Julie Christie or Jane Fonda, and I say that without a hint of irony. The supporting cast is great as well. Jane Forth, who was seventeen at the time, is hilarious in her spoiled rich wife role, and Andrea Feldman’s rants and incoherent dialogue, all with a thick lisp, makes her small but memorable role hilarious.
The cinematography is very good, considering such a low-budget production. The two leads live in a squalid poverty-rid apartment, and it contrasts highly with the rich johns that Joe sleeps with. Nobody, except maybe Buddy Giovinazzo, could make New York look like such a shithole. Drugs and weird sex are rampant, and along with Woodlawn’s performance, it’s what makes this film so memorable.