Why did Valerie Solanas shoot Andy Warhol? The bizarre and shocking attack on pop art's leading figure in 1967 is one of the most misconstrued events in New York City lore. Was it the power imbalance between the flophouse philosopher who authored the "SCUM Manifesto" and downtown's biggest star? The general way misogyny met Solanas's misandry and painted her solely as an unhinged stalker? The fact that Solanas shot Warhol one day before Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated and the story faded away? Whatever the reason, for decades later Solanas was cast as a caricature in the shadow of Warhol's colossus—that is until Mary Harron, then a journalist, decided to put her near-decade of research into Solanas towards a feature film.
"I Shot Andy Warhol" was Harron's 1996 directorial debut, and despite her later renown through classic films like "American Psycho" and "The Notorious Bettie Page," it became something of a ghost in the internet age. Once a piece of cool New York cinema of the sort that defined the celebrated indie film movement of the 1990s, in recent decades it has not even been streamable, except for shitty rips that are gummed up from the movie being in distributor limbo. But a rescued and refurbished version of "I Shot Andy Warhol" opens at IFC Center tonight before a release nationwide, marking its return to theaters for the first time in 30 years.
Rewatching the film, which Harron directed and co-wrote with Daniel Minahan, her experience as a journalist is clear—her devotion to presenting Solanas and Warhol as they were, rather than lionized renditions of either, complicates a mythologized time in New York history. Solanas, played by the always phenomenal Lili Taylor, is a scrappy young writer who side-hustles as a dispassionate sex worker to get by as she works on her treatise about the uselessness of men. When she finally meets Warhol, played by the also phenomenal Jared Harris, Solanas thinks her problems are solved—artistically, if not monetarily. But as her buzzing energy curdles, she begins to suspect Warhol is planning to swindle her artistic work.
The film is a bold, charismatic character study that humanizes its titular character while not excusing her many flaws. We began our video chat with Harron last week to discuss the rerelease of her debut film, and immediately found ourselves blushing. "I love Hell Gate. I'm a subscriber to Hell Gate," she said. "My daughter's studying journalism at CUNY, doing an MA there, and she said, you have to subscribe to Hell Gate, it's writer-owned and all this. And I'm addicted to it, the Morning Spew." Well, hey!
Hell Gate spoke with Harron about her research into Solanas's life, how she views the film now, and what "I Shot Andy Warhol" might mean to viewers today.
This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.
Hell Gate: I wonder if you can think back to the circumstances in which you made "I Shot Andy Warhol," and whether there was more infrastructure in 1996 New York for it.
Mary Harron: It was one of the first films that Christine Vachon's Killer Films did, with ("Swoon" director) Tom Kalin. They were co-producers. And they were great at making low-budget movies because the budget was under $2 million—$1.7 million, I think, which was low for a period film. I think we were very lucky because the Dia Foundation was about to take over this old factory building in the West Village, sort of in Chelsea. But they hadn't renovated it yet, so we were able to take over the entire building for the shoot. We made one floor out of the factory, and the floor above was like, hair and makeup, costume, extras holding. So that became a mini studio.
I've actually done that on almost all my films—I never shoot on a stage, really, unless I'm doing TV. You find an inexpensive place that you use as if you were in a studio, and everybody's focused. We stayed there for like two weeks. And then I think we were in New Jersey in these very cheap hotels, for the hotel scenes. And we were lucky because it's set in the Village, which hasn't changed that much. You know, Washington Square Park. But you have to be really careful. There's no CGI, obviously, at this point, so you have to simply block out modern windows or close the streets so there's no cars. Even on a low-budget film, you can recreate the world.