Best movie of this year hands down!

Pretty good movie overall. First half was nothing special but it got better as it went along.

There's no way I can possibly love it entirely but I just think its ridiculously bad, but enjoyable at the same time.

A terrific literary drama and character piece that shows how the process of creating art can be seen differently by those doing it and those looking at it from the outside.

The number of people who misunderstand the goals of feminism is astonishing. To the kiddos who live by the word of conservatives and close-minded nefarios, the term is synonymous with man-hating, or, a case of female empowerment too supposedly vicious and oppressive for its own good. All feminists want is for the female race to have the same basic rights as men, which is fair, not terrifying. (Another case exemplifying why putting labels on issues can be a dangerous thing.) The meninists of our time, unfortunately, have feminists mixed up with combative revolutionaries akin to, I don't know, Valerie Solanas. Who is Valerie Solanas, you ask? Valerie Jean Solanas (born 1936, died 1988), Wikipedia reads, was an American radical feminist writer best known for the "SCUM Manifesto" and as the would-be murderer of pop artist Andy Warhol. Solanas despised men, not as people but as society's weak links: she figured that men, with their Y chromosomes, were genetic accidents, and that women were meant to rule the world. Not like Beyoncé currently preaches, though: Solanas' goal was to completely exterminate the sex, thus ending the possibilities of future generations and setting the female example in stone.If her logic sounds crazy to you, then you, of course, are of sound mind. But don't let her fanatical blueprints undermine your interest in her. Anything written about Solanas, understandably, makes her sound like a lunatic on the move — that's why 1996's "I Shot Andy Warhol" is such an impactful film. Sure, she still seems like a lunatic on the move. But unexpected is how fascinating of a woman she is, a staggering example of a highly intelligent force of nature who was so struck down during their formative years that using a high IQ for something rational in adulthood seems too mad of a thought. "I Shot Andy Warhol" is so much more than a true crime story set to the screen; it's more comparable to a brilliant character study that just so happens to be based on true events. Harron is invested in Solanas but is also attentive toward the people that surround her. We are understanding of Solanas' view of herself and the view from the judgmental eyes of The Factory and beyond — Harron is so subtly thorough that there are times we forget we aren't actually watching a Candy Darling biopic or a Factory documentary. Every character, compelling or not, is damaged in some way, making the film much more resonant. Solanas' entrance only adds wood to the personal fires of the people she continually harasses; explosive results should have been expected originally.More remarkable is the acting. When it comes to biographical tales, often tiresome is the idea that more attention is given to the fact that hey, _______ _______ is playing ______ ______!, when, in actuality, real figures should have as much depth, if not more, than your average movie character. Astonishing is the way "I Shot Andy Warhol" makes the situation feel as though it is happening before our very eyes. Solanas is not glorified nor portrayed as a crazy person left to expire in the throes of infamy. Instead, she is a misunderstood genius so unrelentingly cast aside by society that Warhol's emotional standoffishness causes an already unstable person to completely snap. Taylor embodies Solanas so convincingly that the increasing madness of her character does instill fear in us.Supporting players Dorff and Harris also make a huge impression: Dorff is terrific as Candy Darling. Never leaning toward caricature-ish body movements or stereotyped predictabilities, he touches deep as a transsexual who made it (kind of) in a time where most were stamped on by culture. Harris turns Warhol into the eccentric we never knew he was, as an artist so hypnotized by the looks, feelings, and auras of others that he never really knew how to be himself. He's polite to Solanas, never turning her down like he should, but is it because he's nice or because she acts as a distraction to his unhealthy habit of consuming himself with the other?"I Shot Andy Warhol" is gigantically effective; it tells a story coercive even to the most casual of a viewer while also authentically investing in the neuroses of the real figures it brings to the celluloid.

Lili Taylor gives a savagely kinetic performance in this representation of a disturbed individual who may just also have been a genius despite, or because of, her treatment at the hands of various men throughout her life.Judging biopics in terms of historical accuracy is for the most part a futile exercise. There is no 'truth', only interpretation, but if you want to get closer to the facts you really should be in the library, not the movie theatre. The story of Valerie Solanas is especially vexing in this case, because were this a work of complete fiction, the script would never have been made. The 'so what?' factor is superseded by the fact that this actually happened, and the legacy of Solanas still divides contemporary feminists.As cinema, the film succeeds through the charisma exuded in Taylor's performance. Her descent into madness is sudden, vicious and uncompromising. The depiction of the shooting, the moment the film has been leading up to, shows a human being divorced absolutely from her conscience. The groovy scene around Warhol's the Factory is both decadent and, viewed from the 21st century, slightly twee. The pastiche of Sixties nostalgia is less foregrounded than Solanas's brutal victimhood. The film begins with a reading of her psychiatric evaluation, where a litany of unpunished crimes inflicted upon this woman by various men is laid out. The female director sets her stall out straight away - what you are hearing now leads through a direct line of cause and effect to the monstrous act you will see committed by Solanas later.If the film has a major flaw, it is the title. Audiences could be mistaken for thinking it is about a documentarian of Warhol's life and work. Solanas and her SCUM manifesto, for better or worse, have made their mark, and perhaps 'Solanas' would have been a more fitting (if less marketable) title. Did it take the shooting for that to be the case? A polemical moment in recent history relayed straightforwardly, this is competent, entertaining, edifying cinema.

"I Shot Andy Warhol"... And what a loss it would have been, too, to the world of TRUE ART if she had succeeded in murdering him. A giant. A genius. Or maybe just a hyped-up talentless little autistic freak. The movie title could also be misinterpreted to be about one of Andy's many gay lovers. "I Shot My Load Right Into Andy Warhol's Apathetic Face".As for Valerie S., this woman clearly could not have had a high level of intelligence, while the opposite has been suggested here, rather groundlessly. And as far as being a genius, as some people consider her to be, she was just as much a genius as Warhol. (Look, Warhol seems to have been a nice guy, but everything he did was pure b******t-orama.) That she was molested by her father I do not accept as a fact, as this excuse has been so over-used in the recent decades to the extent that it has lost all believability - which just serves to harm the real victims.The funniest moment in the film (or rather, the only funny moment) was at the very end in the epilogue; here I am informed that Valerie's manifesto is today considered a feminist classic! Funny that, but I was banking on the fact that it must today be considered as funny (or sad) as any other extreme left-wing or right-wing piece of writing, and is hence dismissed even by ardent feminists as irrelevant ravings of a pathetic lunatic. But, as it turns out, I have once again underestimated the tinniness of a modern feminist's brain. Valerie's manifesto seems to be merely a laughable and hateful series of emotionally-induced hallucinations of one woman's twisted view of the world, based solely on her hatred of men. (And if you see how ugly this dog really looked, you'd partly understand why.) It seems to have been enough for her to learn about the chromosome difference between men and women to start arriving to bizarrely idiotic conclusions. A really intelligent person presents their case with logic and facts, not with silly generalizations and theories that have as much of a scientific basis as the infamous babblings of Hitler's and Stalin's medical and biology scientists, with their ideology-driven b******t research. A highly intelligent person in her place - insane or not - would first ask themselves why they hate men so much. She simply hated them, without analyzing herself. How do I know that? Well, she seems to treat everything else with superficiality; judging from this film - and there are plenty of quotes from her junk writings to form a relatively clear picture of her. Her only way of approaching any idea or concept was to disregard all facts, but instead go full steam ahead with emotion, and emotional thinking is the most essential ingredient in arriving to irrational and absurd conclusions.Ironically, with her unceasing emotionalism and lack of logic she was in fact only giving more support to all the male chauvinists of this world who consider women to be emotional and illogical, while she was trying to prove the opposite - that it is men who are inferior. But whether it's men or women, one thing is for sure: the most inferior species of people on this planet are fanatics, radicals and other morons who view the world in black and white terms. And I am not talking about politicians who oversimplify to achieve their goals without actually believing in the ideologies they are selling themselves - I am talking about the real believers, the low-life losers like Valerie S.; pitiful and bitter sods whose intensity of their beliefs should never be mistaken for genius.Perhaps the chauvinists are right; it does seem that women have a surplus of illogicality and emotionalist thinking; after all, it's no coincidence that the late 20th century feminist movement is one that exceeds in stupidity more then any other contemporary movement I can think of - except maybe the Green movement and PETA. But, the again, they are also run by women; there you have it.Anyway... The film is interesting mainly due to Taylor's convincing performance, and the dialog is interesting enough.If you're interested in reading my extensive satire on modern/abstract art, "Picasso", contact me by e-mail.

Lili Taylor plays Valerie Solanas, an educated loose cannon, guerrilla female activist and self-described 'bull dyke', who was taken into custody in June 1968 after shooting and wounding Andy Warhol at his New York City office/hangout The Factory. Good-looking movie investigates a hazy chapter in history, yet leaves some unanswered questions in its wake (I wasn't aware that apparently an assistant was also shot, though the film makes no attempt to explain what happened to him). However, this small-budgeted film captures a decadently apathetic, coolly indifferent time and place quite vividly, as good as any post-'60s movie has yet managed. Taylor is appropriately forceful and ungainly in her role, which is more complex than one might think, and yet hers is the least interesting or intriguing character on display. Stephen Dorff does a pretty terrific job as transvestite Candy Darling, Tahnee Welch is unrecognizable as Warhol's most famous starlet Viva, and Jared Harris is flawless as Warhol (he nails it). Terrific art direction and composition, but the film lags a bit in the narrative department, with Solanas meeting an anti-bourgeois activist which doesn't come to much and has a facetious, puzzling relationship with publisher Maurice Girodias which seems half-baked. **1/2 from ****