Hooked to the Silver Screen I 5 I Basquiat (1996)
It’s easy to imagine why David Bowie was interested in playing a part in this movie— while it is very much the story of the artist, Jean-Michele Basquiat, it might as well be about Bowie himself.
Basquiat rose to prominence in the New York art scene in the 1980s, befriended Andy Warhol (who Bowie plays in the movie), died of as drug overdose at the age of 27 (yeah, the same age as all those rockers) and whose paintings today sell for tens of millions of dollars. His story, and the way it is told by artist (and director and writer of this film) Julian Schnabel, is fairly similar to all the biographical movies about rock stars who rise from obscurity, struggle with those who would take advantage of them, become addicted to drugs, fall, and then, usually, come back. Except Basquiat didn’t come back— the movie ends with his death.
Basquiat is a serious, if flawed movie. Here I mean, “serious” in the sense that it strives to be something important and it should be respected for what it sets out to do. Basquiat occupies a precarious place in the world today. I don’t think his name, let alone his art, is as well-known as say, Warhol’s. But among those who know Basquiat, his art is amongst the most valuable in the world (again, as measured by the price his paintings get at auction). That the movie was made nearly 30 years ago suggests that Schnabel recognized that Basquiat would endure, forever (or at least thus far) the artist for whom appreciation allows the cool kids to identify each other.
The movie is respectful of Basquiat, depicting his struggle with racism and the threat of exploitation at every turn. He’s depicted as personally flawed— a drug addict who easily turns on his friends. So he’s treated like a real person.
There’s also more than a hint that the value of his art was (and is) overblown or inexplicable. I originally saw the movie in the theater and was re-watching it in parts. Before finishing the movie, a few days ago, I mentioned the idea of Basquiat using his art to barter for day-to-day items. The concept was ridiculous, but sure enough later in the movie he mentioned that he made a drawing which he exchanged for $2 to buy cigarettes. He went on to say that the drawing later sold for $5000. What I took from this, and from the focus on Basquiat as a character rather than his art, as well as a few other hints (like his randomly throwing in undefined streaks of paint onto a big Warhol painting) is that the value assigned to art is not inherent to the art itself. This would be a much harder case to make in a movie about, say, Michelangelo. But Basquiat is depicted as a more of a commodity than a talent.
So, enter Andy Warhol. The character of Warhol plays no small part in the movie. He, more than anyone in the late 20th Century, was all about elevating the common to the status of high art. Since my mother took me to the Albright Knox Art Museum as a child and showed me one of Warhol’s soup can paintings, I always got the idea that Warhol was kinda making a joke, with the joke being on the art consumer. You want to pay millions of dollars for a painting of a soup can? Fine with me!
Bowie himself was interested in Warhol from an early age. He wrote the song, “Andy Warhol,” for Hunky Dory, which he resurrected for his Outside tour. This is one of several circular references within the film— a song from that album appears in the soundtrack. And who wrote much of the original score? John Cale, formally of the Velvet Underground, a band associated with Warhol.
A phrase I associate with Bowie is, “if you want to be a star, act like a star.” The character of Basquiat embodies that idea. Bowie, in the 90s, may have been nostalgic about his time in the 70s, where he was treated like and lived his life like Basquiat in the 80s.
There are other Bowie-relevant references in the movie. At one point a character played by Bowie’s friend, Gary Oldman, says that Chinese calligraphers would change their name in mid-career to start over as someone else. Basquiat never quite did that (though he engaged in other forms of art), but that was essentially how Bowie moved through his career. On the other hand, Bowie as Warhol says, “I can’t even see what’s good anymore,” which reminded me of his song, “I Can’t Read.” The sentiment might have been what Bowie himself was struggling with at the time, attaching himself to this project as a reminder of what it was like to be on the cutting edge.
There’s a lot more I can write about this movie, but I’m going to skip ahead to some of its flaws, in particular regarding Bowie himself. I like that Bowie is in the movie, but at no point do I forget that I’m watching Bowie playing Warhol and not the character of Warhol. Bowie sounds like he’s imitating Warhol rather than embodying the artist. The insertion of that song from Outside, “A Small Plot of Land” is an unnecessary reminder that that voice we’ve been hearing out of Andy Warhol’s mouth is the voice of David Bowie. Here it is again in the form we usually hear it, singing a song.
Just about every other character in the movie is portrayed by a famous star— Benicio del Toro, Dennis Hopper, Parker Posey, Courtney Love, Michael Wincott (you’d recognize him, even if you don’t recognize the name), Tatum O’Neal, Christopher Walken, William Defoe and many others. The only major actor who wasn’t already famous was Jeffrey Wright, who played Basquiat in his first starring role (and he’s great). I think what Schnabel was trying to do was suggest that the actual Basquiat was a somewhat normal, flawed person suddenly thrust into the role of celebrity. The parade of stars is meant to dazzle us, like the person of Basquiat must of been dazzled.
But, like Bowie as Warhol, all the other stars are also distracting. Not a fatal flaw, but enough to confuse what the movie is actually about. I really don’t think it’s about art, but more the art world. Basquiat happens to be the central figure in the movie, but there’s a fragile, skin-deep quality to the movie’s substance that I think was an intentional mimicking of the same qualities of the contemporary art scene itself. The only problem is that this movie is almost the great movie about a visual artist, which otherwise does not yet exist. This is almost it, but not quite.
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Did this movie make a good use of Bowie? I’m on the fence. I like watching him as Warhol in the film. Normally, too, I think a movie that doesn’t take advantage of using any Bowie music is missing an opportunity. But here I think the use of the song is too much, and despite its entertainment value, I don’t think Bowie’s portrayal of Warhol is him at his best as an actor. I’m on the fence, but I’m going to come down on no, this wasn’t a good use of Bowie. There, I said it.
I also struggle with the rating. Again, I’m on the fence between three and four Bowies. It is a very good movie, but acknowledging its flaws, I’m going to give it a rating of three out of four.
Rating: Three out of four Bowies
🧑🎤👩🏿🎤👨🎤
Tally
👩🏻🎤🧑🎤👨🎤👩🏿🎤 Four Bowie movies reviewed thus far
Labyrinth (1986)
👩🏻🎤🧑🎤👨🎤 Three Bowie movies
The Prestige (2006)
Basquait (1996)
👩🏻🎤🧑🎤 Two Bowie movies
Into the Night (1985)
👩🏻🎤 One Bowie movies
Just a Gigolo (1978)
Hooked to the Silver Screen is my series of commentaries about movies in which Bowie appeared. The name of the series comes from a line in the song, “Life on Mars.”