Esclaves de New York

Struggling hat-maker Eleanor (Bernadette Peters) lives with her unstable struggling artist boyfriend Stash in a rundown New York City neighborhood. They are deep into the art scene.

James Ivory is the director. Ismail Merchant is the producer somewhere. Tama Janowitz is the writer based on her New York stories. This has a good sense of time and place although I want them to talk more about money. Maybe he gets enough from his art. It would be more compelling if there is some drug dealing, tricking, or minor scamming. I love "Dad I'm In Jail" which is a big moment in Pump Up the Volume a year later. The scene is not actually that memorable but it's about the song. The movie drifts from one situation or party to the next. At times, I wondered if there is any point to any of this. Maybe that is the point. New York may not be a good place for Merchant Ivory.

I LOVED the book....and come on, piecing together the book into any sort of coherent film couldn't have been the easiest endeavour, and the result really isn't so bad! Looking back on this film 11 years later it truly DOES seem to capture the time and place effectively and has what amount to basically cameos of Stanley Tucci, Steve Buscemi, and Mercedes Ruehl.

Often disjointed adaptation of the volume of intertwined short stories by Tama Janowitz is most interesting for its examination of the avant garde art scene in Manhattan. The story is less compelling; the personal evolution of hat designer Eleanor (Peters) is fine, but other story threads hold less interest. Peters gives an unusual performance (owing much to her scattered, unassuming personality) which doesn't really fit with the other characters, though that is a large part of the point of that plot: Eleanor is much more honest and unironic than the pretentious, pseudo-intellectual types who populate the milieu. The parties, openings, shows, and gatherings keep the screen interesting, though the occasional split-screen scenes are an unsuccessful experiment. Performances are generally good, including a funny two-scene cameo by author Janowitz as Eleanor's friend Abby. My reaction to this makes me think it might have made a good sitcom.

When I saw this movie, I thought it was surreal. Then I moved to New York and realized that it was just being honest. The movie takes place against the colorful (sometimes to a ridiculous extent) new york artist scene. I never read the book, so I don't really know (or care) if the movie was true to it or not, but I thought that all the characters were well developed and gave some hilarious performances. The plot flowed seamlessly and by the end you know that, despite the fact that little of what you saw made much sense, there is some strange order to the world and that it's all good. I find myself recommending this movie to all my friends as I would recommend it to anyone interested in New York, art, or the simultaneous crappiness and lovableness of humanity.

Eleanor is the last person who should be living in the tough low echelons of the New York City art world in the 1980s. She describes herself: "I'm a normal person. I'm trying to achieve the middle class." And: "I find fun very traumatizing. To me, having fun is almost identical to feeling anxious." The very first scene shows her walking home with two big grocery bags and a big Dalmatian dog. She finally makes it, but barely. That's her situation. She is out of her depth, but bravely - or mindlessly - soldiers on.

Eleanor lives in the apartment of the rude small-time artist Stash. She says she loves him and he most of the time kind of tolerates her. In her daily life she is surrounded by crazy people, by wanna-be artists and their entourages. In a noisy crowded nightclub her body just gives up and she collapses. She is diagnosed with vasovagal syncope, something typically triggered by emotional stress.

Eleanor is enslaved by the idea that she has to live in an environment that for a normal and anxious person like herself must most of the time feel like hell. She is even dabbling in art herself, making grandiose, grotesque hats. If the devil is really out to get her, they will somehow become a success, the novelty of a day, binding her even harder to a place that - as her body knows - is very detrimental to her health.

"Slaves of New York" tells a sad story and it's not an entertaining one. The art scene is bleak and unappealing. All the relationships are tainted. Most of the people are terrible. The Dalmatian is kind of okay, though. Will the cute little puppy Eleanor find an exit? If not herself, will somebody else learn from her mistakes?