Schiavi di New York

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.

It can't be easy to bring a Tama Janowitz novel to the screen. Her characters are strange and chronically flawed. Her plots progress like real life -- loosely, with lots of extraneous details and false starts -- yet contain a lot of wacky situations which we have trouble relating to reality (until we really think about it, and realize it's weird because it REALLY HAPPENS, everyday). I love her sense of humour and her style of writing, especially since her novels don't follow a traditional form of plot development.

That said, this movie could have been better. I don't think that the split-screen presentation of different scenes works at all, and many of the actors don't seem to understand why they're uttering the lines -- I don't think they "get it." Adam Coleman Howard (Stash) struggles valiantly, but always seems one step behind his character. Madeleine Potter (Daria) isn't very convincing either. Bruce Peter Young (Mikell) looks by turns bored and baffled. And -- perhaps the biggest injustice of all -- the knight in shining armour at the end is a terrible actor; instead of being happy and hopeful at the emergence -- finally! -- of a single genuine person in Eleanor's life, I couldn't get beyond his wooden delivery.

Everyone else is great, however. Bernadette Peters seems tailor-made to star in a Janowitz adaptation, as do many of the other oddball characters (Wilfredo, Mooshka, Samantha, the Japanese film crew). Things pick up in the second half, and it certainly gets funnier as it goes along...Eleanor mentions a dream she had the other night about a baby with long arms and legs like a chimpanzee, "but it was cute." The party (and the blender) is a blast. After so long in more-or-less quiet neutral, the last half hour kicks into gear.

Some people mentioned, "how could Eleanor put up with Stash?" Well, look around, sadly...there are lots of Eleanors and lots of Stash's (people who are "abridged" like their "tentacles have been cut off at the wrist"). As for the odd artsy SoHo characters...compare this film to "Mondo New York" and see that, if anything, Janowitz has missed out on a few bizarre and self-indulgent art types.

Don't expect to be on the edge of your seat when you watch this one. Just sit back, enjoy, and take it for what it is: an expose on the New York art world in the 80's, and an examination of one woman attempting to deal with a city full of shallow, uncaring, jealous and stupid people.

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.

This over-long look at New York's art scene in the 1980 is based on a book of short stories by Tama Janowitz. Like the stories, this film has lots of characters and a meandering plot that basically follows Eleanor (Bernadette Peters) through her life of being a New York "slave" (a person who lives with a person who owns the house or has the lease for the apartment), designing weird hats, looking for love, and the endless whirl of parties, art openings, and friends.

Peters lives with an artist named Stash (Adam Coleman Howard)who is self-absorbed and unpleasant. Stash latches onto wealthy Daria (Madeleine Potter) who is a would-be artist but is too wealthy to really care. They run in the same circle as Marley (Jsu Garcia billed as Nick Corri) who paints but who really wants to start a church in Rome. His agent (Mary Beth Hurt) puts him in touch with a wealthy nutjob (John Harkins) who finances all sorts of weird "art" projects such as the guy in Montana who moves mud from one end of the garden to the other.

The plot follows Peters but also exposes the incredible arrogance of art as well as its cyclic trendiness. What is art? Who knows.

Co-stars in the film include Stanley Tucci, Tammy Grimes, Christine Dunford, Tama Janowita (as Abby), Steve Buscemi, Betty Comden, Chris Sarandon, Mercedes Ruehl, Michael Schoeffling, Bruce Peter Young, Louis Guss, Anthony LaPaglia, and Charles McCaughan as Sherman.

There's a brilliant and very funny interlude as three drag queens with a boom box and dressed in skin-tight red gowns parade down the street as the Supremes lip-syncing to "Love Is Like an Itching in My Heart." The sequence is just another look at fun and silliness of performance art.

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?