By Buzz Byrne
If this movie had tried to be a little less self-important, it could have been very, very good. Instead, the filmmakers seemed content to bat heavy issues around without really confronting them. FACTORY GIRL tells the story of Andy Warhol protégée Edie Sedgwick (Sienna Miller) and her tumultuous rise and fall in the mid-1960s New York hipster/art scene.
Sedgwick gained attention for being very pretty and starring in a number of Warhol’s very bad movies. Sedgwick and Warhol (Guy Pearce) had what could have been a romance, had he been interested in women, and if she hadn’t been brutalized by men. Instead, they built a relationship on appearances, affectations and possibly a genuine affection based on their inability to emotionally connect with anyone else. In this movie, they save their most intimate of conversations for the phone.
The story is essentially a love triangle, as soon as Bob Dylan is added to the cast of vaguely-disguised celebrity/characters that haunted this particular time. The movie wants to create this tension on a deeper lever, making Edie the tug rope between the shallow, ironic, disaffected pop art of Warhol and the earnest, issue-tackling, counterculture prophet that is Dylan. This would be great if the movie was at all concerned with the art of either man.
Bob Dylan isn’t even Bob Dylan, he’s “Billy Quinn” — as if the sing-songy imitation by Hayden Christensen wasn’t enough of a neon sign, the script writer made the “Quinn the Eskimo” reference to be sure even the dimmest of bulbs recognized who he was. What this means is that none of Dylan’s music could be used because, clearly, he didn’t sign off on this project. So much for exploring his artistic expression.
Even though the movie is the story of Edie, it must grapple with the character of Warhol. Guy Pearce does an excellent job of minimalizing Warhol. He is all quick quips with his band of insular hangers-on and the media, but frightened and actionless in the presence of singular confrontation. While Pearce gives the best performance of the leads, unfortunately the character of Warhol is too big for this movie to handle. The film tries to discover if he is an artistic genius or a marketing genius; when that question becomes too difficult, it just hands him an indictment. Dylan/Quinn, meanwhile, is barely more than a paper-thin, haloed savior. He encourages Edie to pursue her drawings, so he must have soul. Ah, BS.
When I walked into my local Blockbuster Tuesday morning to rent FACTORY GIRL, I was helped by a young woman who
told me it was great and I would love it. She was maybe in her early 20s, working the alternative/artsy vibe. I could see how she might love it; it certainly plays to romantic notions of the tidal surge of creativity and tension in the 1960s.
I’ve never had much interest in Warhol, his art or his persona. However, this movie felt unfair with regards to him. And, because he is who he is, he completely dwarfs Edie throughout. Plus, the director does no favors to the character of Edie in the way he handles her childhood. It is all referenced in words and repeated so frequently that it becomes monotonous rather than emotionally stirring. They do call it the “motion picture” business for a reason. Images can stir far more effectively than exposition. An excellent director understands this.
Because Warhol and Sedgwick are so damaged, their connection is going to be difficult to understand. When Warhol exploits her horrific family history of rape and incest, is it really that different from when Dylan delves into it to lead to a night of lovemaking? Didn’t Dylan, in some ways, exploit the misery of other for his artistic goals? Rather than look deeper at the parallels, black hats and white hats are handed out. And, rather than use this to discuss issues of art and exploitation in an explosively divisive and creative time, the story becomes simple tragedy with pretty people and celebrity names.
Unfortunately, the movie becomes exactly what it loathes Warhol for.