Synopsis
Mexican actress Lupe Vélez's final hours as she overdoses on Seconal.
Mexican actress Lupe Vélez's final hours as she overdoses on Seconal.
I admire Andy Warhol for making films. They may not have been that great, but he was a do-er. Edie Sedgwick wears one of my favorite dresses ever and the sound is some of the worst ever. Edie may also not be the best actress ever, but there's something to her. When she gets stuck in her drunken stupor, it's apparent that nothing will be able to save her and it's just sad.
Not necessarily my opinion, but this is an actual quote from a girl walking out of Lupe: “It SUCKS!!!!”
rented 16 mm print from MOMA
Maybe the most immediate indicator of Lupe being an outlier in Warhol's Sedgwick room dramas or whatever you may want to call them is the use of color film and its affects. Much of the make-up of the film is much the same to that of “similar” Warhol films of this nature (by this I mean the Sedgwick-oriented ones) where we see Edie lying in bed with either a man in the room with her or making conversation with an unknown person on the landline and here with Lupe we see this again; Sedgwick is asleep in bed in for over two minutes and awakes slowly, initially tossing and turning which seems to startle the camera – which jarringly pulls…
warhol’s goodbye to language
(dual-screen version)
Shut up, Andy. Just shut up.
Complete synchronicity with a fading beauty - we are tied to breaths, movements, consciousness. To have time ripped from our (her) control -with no way of altering things- is both profound and tragic.
Can you even believe the man managed to morbidly disrespect not only Edie Sedgwick but Lupe Vélez too?? The devil works hard but Andy Warhol works harder
This was dual-projected (á la Chelsea Girls) at the Whitney Museum, last night; and that technical scheme seems to have been in the film's design plan. Previously, I had only seen Lupe projected sequentially.
At the time, Warhol was using a sync-sound camera that took reels roughly 36 minutes in length, and with that predetermined cutoff as an obvious limitation there is, in Lupe, a level of structural coordination that I've not (yet) encountered anywhere else in his filmography. So, when the film is dual-projected, the end of the first reel rhymes with the end of the second. And that it feels so coordinated, and not as seemingly shambolic as a film like Hedy (which I love, by the way,…
If anyone would be so kind as to assist me with locating the 16 mm, 36 minute, dual-screen version of this film that was screened at the MOMA in late 2019, as a part of their "The West: Myth, Character, and Reinvention by Andy Warhol" exhibition for subsequent viewing, that would be greatly appreciated!
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
A sort of replay of Poor Little Rich Girl, with its long routines of vanity, its booming diegetic source music, its visual obscurity, only with much greater stakes, long takes here forcing awareness of the narcotized state of mind - thence the questions of where Vélez the character ends and Edie the actress begins, since history has them ending in almost the same place.
If you see a few Warhol films you start expecting a static, durational, minimalist (non-)aesthetic, or a silly, campy playfulness, but not too many actually delve into humanistic agony like this one. Edie as Lupe trembles (see also Rouch/Morin's Chronicle of a Summer to feel how devastating this "little" behavioral detail can be) as she staggers…
Watched dual projected. Made it go twice as quick. Warhol does some very good zooms - the best I've ever seen him do. His camera is very cold and impersonal, which makes sense. Sound is fun to listen to and not nearly as bad as everyone says it is.
Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick dramatize the final hours of Lupe Velez’s life. I saw the dual projection version of this in the video room at the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, and I’d wager that the double-screen presentation is really the only way this film works. Warhol presents two very different scenes simultaneously—Lupe eating dinner alone in one frame, and conversing with her husband in the other. The sound is largely unintelligible, but on images alone — the decadent decorations, or Sedgwick’s bright pink dress — this makes a statement on the destructive nature of fame, particularly when Warhol cuts to two different takes of the same death scene at the film’s end.
A kind of template Warhol: Built on a foundation of reflexivity and irony (based on the true Lupe Vélez' suicide, then perverted by Kenneth Anger's Hollywood Babylon; three months after shooting this, lead actress and muse Edie Sedgwick would be dead. Allegedly, an accident), spaces are filled with mirrors and everyone's distracted from themselves. It also has the queer Warhol tendency to take the mundane and everyday and then stare at it long enough until it's irrevocably uncanny.