Vinyl (1965)

Warhol’s infamously slow, vague, and perverted »adaptation« of A Clockwork Orange is a tough nut to crack. The tight framing, crowded space, and fixed camera effectively creates an oppressive feeling of confinement that is very suitable for the subject matter. On the other hand, terrible »acting«, almost non-existent story, and abominable technical quality – especially soundwise – makes the movie hard to even comprehend, much less appreciate. Concepts like »good« and »bad« gradually lose their meaning, which is rather fitting and might very well be just what Warhol had in mind.

A sadomasochistic, homo-erotic, and important part of film history – that doesn’t qualify for my own personal book.

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