3 reviews
This is Andy Warhol's famous (infamous?) KITCHEN, which stars Edie Sedgwick and a number of other Factory "superstars". It's one shot of a kitchen. There's no plot, just people coming in and out and saying crazy lines, or lines that dont make sense (same thing?). It might have been great in the mid-sixties, but it's kind of painful to watch now, it's more of an endurance test than an enjoyable film. There are some funny moments, such as Edie continually sneezing and the props being introduced as cast members, but if you want to see Edie, see POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL or LUPE, you'll be much better off.
- alexduffy2000
- Aug 5, 2002
- Permalink
A great film about nothing at all from the twisted genius Andy Warhol. Extremely surreal, this film deals with a couple carrying on banal conversation in their kitchen. How nice. Yes, it was nice.
"...if you like this movie, you will enjoy...BLACK LOLITA."
Edie Sedgwick sits at a kitchen table in a crummy, cramped,
Lower East Side-looking apartment and puts on makeup in a
trademark striped shirt and short skirt, all the while making sure,
no matter what physical attitude she's in, to keep her long lean
legs extended in a sort of "en pointe" way, making them flexed and
swan-esque. A shirtless slob licks at these legs and Edie sprays
perfume, or deodorant, on her stockinged feet. Irrational fights
erupt and the faceless voiceless god of the enterprise, Andy
Warhol, sends in the Marines, a.k.a. the garish, gum-chewing,
dizzy Jersey broad named Ingrid Superstar. Edie, redefining
cleanliness in its next-to-godliness-ness, takes the high-class
route and barely notices Ingrid's existence.
Some of Ronald Tavel's mid-sixties Theatre of the Absurd hooey is
hard to take. (It also mars the brilliant VINYL, Warhol's
CLOCKWORK ORANGE adaptation.) But for those interested in
Warhol's ongoing project of fusing the technologies of religious art
and Forty Deuce pornography, KITCHEN is essential.
Edie Sedgwick sits at a kitchen table in a crummy, cramped,
Lower East Side-looking apartment and puts on makeup in a
trademark striped shirt and short skirt, all the while making sure,
no matter what physical attitude she's in, to keep her long lean
legs extended in a sort of "en pointe" way, making them flexed and
swan-esque. A shirtless slob licks at these legs and Edie sprays
perfume, or deodorant, on her stockinged feet. Irrational fights
erupt and the faceless voiceless god of the enterprise, Andy
Warhol, sends in the Marines, a.k.a. the garish, gum-chewing,
dizzy Jersey broad named Ingrid Superstar. Edie, redefining
cleanliness in its next-to-godliness-ness, takes the high-class
route and barely notices Ingrid's existence.
Some of Ronald Tavel's mid-sixties Theatre of the Absurd hooey is
hard to take. (It also mars the brilliant VINYL, Warhol's
CLOCKWORK ORANGE adaptation.) But for those interested in
Warhol's ongoing project of fusing the technologies of religious art
and Forty Deuce pornography, KITCHEN is essential.