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view with a soundtrack reportedly cobbled together from Basquiat's record collection (Tom Waits, Iggy Pop, Charlie Parker) and a cult clique of a cast (Bowie as Warhol, Hopper as the Swiss dealer Bruno Bischofberger), but it actually tells us little about the artist, the impulses behind his art, or what drove him to his death. Wright is supremely self-possessed in the title role, but Schnabel allows him to sail through life oblivious to anything save his talent. One scene with Christopher Walken, however, hits home. He's an intrusive journalist who asks Basquiat all the right questions, about colour, celebrity, and the true value of art. They don't speak the same language, but even if we only get half-answers, it's fascinating to see Basquiat's unease when he's really being pressed. Otherwise, this is just another tale of the perils of stardom overlaid with kitsch symbolism.

Basquiat
Bomb Rating:

I know what I don't like.
We should all pretend to like "Basquiat." Then about ten of us can sit arounda coffee table made to seat two people while we sip frappuccinos and comment that our appreciation of such a film makes us incredibly smarter than common riffraff who "didn't get it."
Rest assured that you'll feel like an idiot walking out of this film, which is reason enough not to see it. The pressure created by the surrounding throngs of pseudo-intellectuals who'll never admit that something went over their heads, down their back, through the crack of their ass and right into the gutter is so great that it's just easier to scream "fabulous" and faint. You might know that Basquiat was a famous '80s artist, but unfortunately, fellow artist and first-time filmmaker Julian Schnabel doesn't seem the least bit interested in telling a story. What he does seem interested in is patting himself on the back for being involved in the hip art scene.
Like his art, Basquiat (Jeffrey Wright) is portrayed as commanding...