The most intellectual of Warhol's movies
Warhol , it is reported, had a brilliant stroke of invention. Ronald
Tavel, the co-director, staged this absurdist romp about Castro
and Che Guevara in a single crowded space, with all the
actresses (it is an all-female cast) facing front. Tavel sits among
them, telling them what to do and say. Warhol moved the camera
from a head-on position to the side. He created the sadistic
triangle that exists in all his movies. On one side, the spectator. On
the other, the actor. On the third side, some unseen force--i.e.,
Warhol himself--to whom the actors look in supplication and hate.
Apolitically surrealist, vaguely racist, and as formalist as a
Messiaen essay on birdsong, JUANITA CASTRO exists almost
exclusively from the neck up. (The grim, overcast cinematography
may be party to this.) An etude on politics and theatre as exercises
in seen and less-seen control, CASTRO doesn't pretend to be
brainless in the way most Warhol movies do. Still, it strikes me as
no loss that Warhol gave up "having something to say."
Most contemporary audiences will find this tough going. But
something about this mass of seated women, gazing offscreen in
a collective CLOSE ENCOUNTERS stupor, feels timelessly
compelling.
Tavel, the co-director, staged this absurdist romp about Castro
and Che Guevara in a single crowded space, with all the
actresses (it is an all-female cast) facing front. Tavel sits among
them, telling them what to do and say. Warhol moved the camera
from a head-on position to the side. He created the sadistic
triangle that exists in all his movies. On one side, the spectator. On
the other, the actor. On the third side, some unseen force--i.e.,
Warhol himself--to whom the actors look in supplication and hate.
Apolitically surrealist, vaguely racist, and as formalist as a
Messiaen essay on birdsong, JUANITA CASTRO exists almost
exclusively from the neck up. (The grim, overcast cinematography
may be party to this.) An etude on politics and theatre as exercises
in seen and less-seen control, CASTRO doesn't pretend to be
brainless in the way most Warhol movies do. Still, it strikes me as
no loss that Warhol gave up "having something to say."
Most contemporary audiences will find this tough going. But
something about this mass of seated women, gazing offscreen in
a collective CLOSE ENCOUNTERS stupor, feels timelessly
compelling.
- nunculus
- 3 mar 2001