Apple Pie

If you're looking for something that makes sense, then you're in the wrong dingy ole New York "independent film" decaying movie house.

This rancid concoction - in the good sense - was put together in that odd space between the 1950's/60's beatnik/hippie NYC and the Trumpster heyday of the 1980's - the 1970's.

For you 21century youngin's you're gonna see absolutely appalling stuff you've never seen before - telephone booths, gigantic V-8 Cadillac high octane convertibles w. No seatbelts, a smoggy NYC skyscape w. A dirty old Brooklyn bridge and a soaring new Twin Towers - a New York where you didn't need permits to film on the streets, stray dogs who just pooped in the curbs, afternoon Discoteques, corded window blinds, aluminum trash cans, etc, etc.

The dialogue is xtreme-xtemporaneous stream-of-consciousness with some very witty throwaway lines: guy falls off a roof, gets a tear in his costume and expostulates: "Ya call this a jumpsuit?!".

What's the point? Well, as the deranged "hero" character played - and I do mean "played" - by the shockingly skeletal Chaplinesque, Gumby flexible Tony Azito - a/k/a "Jacques ... Jacques (the Ace) Blinbaum" - says to a mirrored sidewalk sculpture: "I wanted him to know self-indulgence has style" (of course we don't know who "he" is, but never mind, it's not important)

In a way this is an Andy Warhol knock off in spirit - sort of a Dollar Store Warhol -

So, "a cult classic"? Yeah, I see that for it :-) - and, btw, the dinner scene near the end is absolutely hilarious - is that a "spoiler"???

And, oh, all the girls are pretty!

I recently found a VHS copy of Apple Pie on the net and re-watched it. What a treat. I hadn't seen this film in over 20 years! I first saw it at the Deauville Film Festival in France the same year I saw Nashville and Love and Death there. It was a big hit and got a standing ovation the night I saw it.

The film is a kind of hodge-podge of ideas. It stars Tony Azito (who was a big deal in NY on Broadway and Off-Broadway. He died of AIDS a few years ago). It starts out with him as some sort of gangster who then tells the story (in flashback) of how, when he was a kid, he kidnapped himself and got a ransom from his parents. Then he becomes some kind of nighttime costumed prowler and then he winds up leading a huge dance sequence in the streets of New York (pre-Flashdance) to the music of Darryl Hall and John Oates! It all sounds kind of weird in the re-telling, but once you get the hang of it, it all makes sense. The whole film is a lie made up by the main character (Tony Azito), as a kind of manifestation of his own weirdness. Once you get that none of it is to be taken literally you start to understand it as some kind of fractured New York fairy tale.

This is what independent filmmaking was once all about.

This now 50 year old movie is an example of low budget, high weirdness New York City filmmaking that ended in the early 90s. Tony Azito is the propellant that fuels the various set pieces. Miami Vice fans may recognize Azito as the sinister but soft-spoken drug lord Manolo in a 1988 episode called Mirror Image (Season 4 episode 22). Azito didn't play the role as some raving, violent Mafia coke dealer. He was colder than cold and his spidery physical movements, like Dracula, added to the menace.

Azito was going to continue working in the show, presumably as Manolo, but fate intervened. He was hit by a cab and badly injured, then diagnosed with cancer and HIV. Which killed him.

...as I was when this movie came to an end.

How this film has anything less than a 7.5 rating is beyond me. It should be required viewing - especially for anyone in the arts industry.

Every choice made by every person involved - the writer/director, the cinematographers, the costume designers, the actors (most of whom were clearly given creative freedom to move around and adlib) was a perfect choice.

The whole thing is so genuine and authentic that it feels more like witnessing a camera follow real people around during a random day of their lives. You want to know these people and interact with them.

And as for the incredible dance number at the end: it makes "You Cant Stop the Beat" from Hairspray feel more like an 8 year-old's dance recital. If it doesnt have you on your feet, moving and shaking (or at least sitting there with a gigantic, goofy grin on your face), then you may want to check your pulse for signs of life.

I am a cinephile or a film critic. I had seen many so called film cult movies. This had never entered my list and would leave my interest as soon as I put the dot at the end of this long sentence; garbage.