Chelsea Walls

Chelsea Walls is not the usual film, that somehow all of the characters and their stories are inter-related. In 'Walls', none of the characters and their stories touch one another. This is what makes it more life-like, because all of us know that this is reality and not the movies. This film requires the participation of the audience in viewing it, there are many fascinating characters who are telling fascinating stories, just watch and listen. Finally, it is about Americans who are still 'On the Road' for that career in the arts and the experiences that they have and the people that enter their lives while they are on that journey. It is somewhat in the genre of Jack Kerouac, the difference being that this is a group of total strangers who never connect with each other, just with life.

Christopher Walken is credited as a character without a name (and his name appears on the VHS cassette). Can anyone tell my exactly what part he plays and/or when he appeared? I surely didn't see him - and I watched for him through the whole movie as I expected him to fit in quite well in this original movie. Or maybe I just went blind?

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?)

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 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.