0460: Vinyl (1965)

Rating: 0/10

Andy Warhol, one of the most famous American artists of the 20th century, at one point read the book “A Clockwork Orange” and then decided to make this film. In it, a man named Victor is betrayed by his best friend, Scum Baby, who turns him into the police for…ripping up some guy’s book…I think? Then he’s tied to a chair and forced to watch videos….for reasons. This movie is almost, but not quite, completely different from Stanley Kubrick’s Clockwork Orange, and it’s only slightly closer to the book.

Okay, this movie fails for pretty much every reason. First, it’s filmed in a single location and the camera never moves. It’s also black and white, which isn’t really a problem, except it’s so low-quality everything is so grainy it’s literally hard to watch. Secondly, the way it’s set up and presented makes me think this whole thing is a recording of a high school play that somebody’s dad threw on because he’s just that proud of his son. Third, for a “short” 75 minute runtime the whole movie feels like the filmmaker was doing his best to just drag out the film as much as possible. Every scene is somehow 10 or even 20 times longer than it should be. This whole film could have been about five minutes, each bit shortened to it’s bare essentials, and we would have gotten, well, actually a much better YouTube video (essentially) which does the exact same thing as this film. And that YouTube video wouldn’t be any good either! Lastly and most importantly, this movie has no plot, no arcs, only the least amount of character development possible, and just a bunch of scenes that hardly have anything to do with the others. 

Why you should watch it before you die: I get that this movie is “artistic” and I get that Andy Warhol probably had some kind of point in mind when he made this movie, but whatever it is, it’s not clear to me. I would recommend it only to people who need something to throw on in the background of the orgy they’re having.

SCORING:

0: It’s so hard to make something so solidly mediocre. It’s not good enough to be good, it’s not bad enough to be enjoyable for it’s mistakes. It’s just right in the middle, and somehow keeps it up throughout the whole movie, never causing the audience to feel a single emotion aside from general confusion and a distant feeling in the back of one’s brain of “why am I still watching this?” I guess, if that was the artist’s intent, then well done Mr. Warhol, well done.

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