Chelsea Walls

I feel so ashamed for the people who have trashed this film, they obviously don't know a lot about movies. This film is a wonderful work of art, and it seems that many of the people posting comments here don't appreciate art. Many have noted the grainy and obscure shots in the movie, that is because it was filmed entirely in digital format. It is the second film in the InDigEnt series of films shot entirely on digital, and on a budget of $150,000 or less (another film in this project being Richard Linklater's "Tape", which is an AMAZING film). The film was shot over a period of 16 days using Sony PD-100 digital cameras. As for the writing and characters that have been belittled, these characters are not entirely the creation of screenwriter Nicole Burdette, the story was inspired by the play "Under Milk Wood" by a man called Dylan Thomas, you may have heard of him... if you haven't, go to school, and then come back and critique this movie. Thomas actually resided in the Chelsea at one point in time, as well as Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen. And if you didn't enjoy the music of the film by Wilco/Jeff Tweedy... shame on you. Chelsea Walls is a wonderful film, directed by an amazing artist. For Hawke's directorial debut, I think he did a wonderful job.

My first home in NYC was the YMCA across the street from the Chelsea Hotel and thus I feel qualified to say that Ethan Hawke's new film "Chelsea Walls" provides a very authentic glimpse into the lives of classic New York starving artists. Shot entirely on DV, the intimate grit of the daily struggle for love, inspiration, food, and cab fare is reminiscent of Vinterberg's 1998 dogma film "The Celebration" which Hawke affirms was an inspiration for this project. Take a peek into the lives in a few of the rooms in the legendary Chelsea Hotel in "Chelsea Walls", opening 19 April 2002.

The eclectic cast of characters includes: On-again, off-again married couple with no discernable legal occupation (Mark Webber & Rosario Dawson). A lonely waitress and moody painter with highly-charged yet unrequited chemistry (Vincent D'Onofrio & Uma Thurman). Minnesota musicians desperately searching for purpose, but enjoying Wally and the Beavers in the meantime (Robert Sean Leonard & Steve Zahn). And an emotionally-distant alcoholic writer who draws inspiration from the passion of both his lover and his wife (Kris Kristofferson, Tuesday Weld & Natasha Richardson).

The residents don't seem to have money to turn on the lights, so most of the time I can't even see who is talking. There are many scenes that contain incomprehensible monologues which are superimposed onto irrelevant visuals. The numerous characters and the unrelated stories make the whole film impossible to understand for me.

I connect with what this thing is supposed to be, but the substance of these artists is poor. Nothing we see from them rises above the level of teenage poetry. The Chelsea Hotel is still a mecca for poets and artists, even if today it's more a mecca for kids of Kerouac. This movie shows the Chelsea as a mecca for 21st century sulking hipsters who learned hippy-dom from Woodstock DVDs. I don't think that's accurate. If you take away the artist premise and the reputation of the Chelsea as a setting, and replace it with a college dorm full of political science majors, you'd have an equally fascinating film.

But I find the building, the inside of that building, to be beautiful.

The young poet Audrey is shown writing an epic love ode to her boyfriend. Montage of her on her bare-roomed floor with voice over ("I want to be your wristwatch band so that every pulse throb will subtly remind you of my eternal love", etc.), images of this young Romeo, a spoiled-looking kid with all the depth of a ham sandwich. More poetic verbal images and then the [unintentional] comic moment, seen in a silent image: Romeo and Juliet on the balcony of the Chelsea Hotel where in a Romantic Moment that justifies all her deathless love and poetry....he spits, intentionally, on a sidewalk passerby many feet below. Yes, what Musedom he provides for the piss-elegant poetry of her young being. Priceless! (And, oh yes, a few lines must be dedicated to the usual Kris Kristoferson tired, substance abused, world weary artiste performance: would you want to spend 15 minutes with this drunken dope at a party?)