Fleshpot on 42nd Street

Gritty in substance and style, "Fleshpot" looks at the seedy side of urban existence, specifically in New York City. Dusty (Laura Cannon/Diana Lewis) is disgusted with her life as a hustler and a criminal. She feels trapped in a cycle of survival that does not allow her to look beyond the current day.

This adult film is cinema verite and it does a fair job of capturing life in and around the streets. The acting is credible. Sometimes the framing is poor. Surprisingly, there are humorous moments, and some philosophizing by the characters.

A homeless young woman hops from bed to bed and friend's apartment to friend's apartment trying to find herself and gets into all sorts of trouble with a variety of shady characters until she meets a guy she really falls for.

Sometimes funny, sometimes shocking, and always unpredictable, Fleshpot on 42nd Street goes further than just about any other low budget exploitation cheapie from the era and includes real sex. Oddly enough, the sex scenes don't deter from the film or stop the film cold and only enhance it.

Although the film was released in 1973 it plays more like a film that was released much earlier in the 1950's and feels more like you are watching a documentary than a soft core dramatic film. The main star of the film is a prostitute named Dusty Cole (played by Laura Cannon) who we witness having sex with a variety of men from different economic classes and their varying wants. Dusty Cole comes off as a poor man's version of the much more main stream 1990 Pretty Woman starring Julia Roberts.

There certainly is no romance involved in Fleshpot on 42nd Street but a lot of grit, a platonic relationship with a transvestite named Cherry Lane (Neil Flanagan) and the lesson that money talks and bull crap walks.

I give this low budget film high marks for making the most with so little to work with and it comes off as a reality film with the hard knocks of a young prostitute's life. I give it a 7 out of 10 IMDB rating. Not so much for its cinema quality (which it lacks) but more for it's true grittiness.

Dusty, a small time hustler, moves out of her boyfriend's apartment when he finally confronts her about not paying any of the rent and refusing to get a job. She's back on the streets where she reconnects with her transgender prostitute friend, Cherry. Cherry agrees to let her room with her and help her turn some tricks, but things get complicated when Dusty starts to develop feelings for one of her clients.

Andy Milligan isn't a filmmaker known for class or his strong narratives, but Fleshpot on 42nd Street is about as strong an effort from him that I've seen. Milligan has created a group of interesting lowlifes who ran the gamut from sexist to racist, but there's a sweet loyalty between them all even as they curse each other out and insult one another.

The film dabbles in hardcore pornography as well, but it feels oddly important to the story and some of the moments between Dusty and her new lover, Bob, are surprisingly sweet and touching. Not all of the acting is great and, in typical Milligan fashion, it won't be winning any cinematography awards, but it sets out to tell a memorable story and succeeds.

There's no question that Andy Milligan's film work was influenced by Andy Warhol. That doesn't downgrade the late Mr. Milligan at all-- no doubt when he was putting together plays in the 1950s, much of the aesthetic seen in VAPORS and FLESHPOT ON 42nd STREET was already intact. It's as if Warhol influenced the film-making, yet Tennessee Williams influenced the content. I thought Milligan's VAPORS (see my review) was a masterpiece, treating loneliness, desperation, and sexual confusion in a bold and honest way. You don't have to be bisexual or gay to find the humanity and universality in such a film. For me, FLESHPOT is equally fine. If VAPORS was reminiscent of early Warhol, when Andy himself was at the camera, FLESHPOT is reminiscent of the Paul Morrissey era. There's no Joe Dallesandro here, but Milligan was never about "stars" the way Warhol was. This is the story of two people who are sexually confused and sexually frustrated, and find that they have to "hustle" on every level of their existence. They may be in the gutter, but they both have somewhere inside them a spark of romance and dreams of a better life...somehow, somewhere. Neil Flanagan (aka "Lynn" Flanagan) brings a lot of depth to the role of queen Cherry Lane--sweet one moment, bitchy another moment; kind and considerate, but then thoughtless. Flanagan is, of course, familiar to any Milligan fan because of playing GURU in GURU THE MAD MONK. Diana Lewis's other credits seem to be mostly porn, but she makes the role of Dusty uncomfortably real. Everyone has known a few Dustys--the person who moves in with someone and basically provides sexual favors in return for room and board and some occasional pocket money. A number of people have BEEN Dustys at some low period in their lives. She is hard-bitten, cynical, knows how to manipulate the gullible, but she too has a dream of a better life that even the sleazy New York underbelly has not snuffed out. Some people manage to find a way out, or move somewhere else and reinvent themselves successfully, but many do not, and this is their story. The jumpy 16mm photography of Milligan's legendary Auricon camera almost becomes a participant in the film, and makes everything alive and moving, the way it does in real life. There's a lot of attention to dialogue in Milligan's 60s and early 70s work--the man may have been essentially a playwright. When it works well, Milligan's dialogue works as well as some of the later, less symbolic, more explicit Tennessee Williams plays. This being an Andy Milligan film, there are no happy endings, but this film would be phony and insincere if it offered one. FLESHPOT ON 42nd STREET is an honest look at characters living in an urban jungle, a place where if you don't take advantage of the next person you meet, that person will take advantage of you. Milligan does not judge these characters; he finds the humanity within them. This is equal to the best of the Warhol-Morrissey films, and in its own right is an impressive piece of work that seems more accurate and more rich the older I get and the more I've lived. Don't wait three decades for someone to proclaim this a masterpiece and one of the most significant "windows" into the early 70's, and for it to be shown at some film festival alongside TAXI DRIVER--score a copy now.