"A kind of a genius"

On a rainy day in Manhattan there's no better thing to do than to watch an Andy Warhol film. Luckily, the MoMA was showing Harlot, which consists of one very long (67-minute) shot of a transvestite in a white ballgown, ratty blonde wig, and diamond jewels. 'She' reclines on a couch, nestled in with a voluptuous woman who clutches a beer in one hand and a white cat in the other. There are two creepers perched behind the sofa, one disguised as a prince and one disguised as Marlon Brando. None of the actors speak during the entire 67 minutes. The only movements in the lethargic eroticized black and white tableau: the tuxedoed man smoking cigarettes; the transvestite peeling and eating bananas (at least 4 of them).

One by one the MoMA visitors trickled out of the theatre, ill at ease from Andy Warhol's suggestive banana monologue voice over. The audience dwindled down to a smattering of straggling artists, some hipsters who had brought pastrami sandwiches to enjoy with the show (I overheard them saying: "I'm going to blog about this..."), and a couple New York City creepers.