User Reviews

After Flesh, this is the second of the Flesh-Trash-Heat trilogy of the Joe Dallessandro-Andy Warhol-Paul Morrissey collaboration. This is much more pacier than Flesh, and it has more solid conversation although obviously the actors have again been left on their own to improvise. The context is much more specifically set than Flesh again (thanks to better editing I guess), and the mood is darker and gloomier.

The transvestite Holly Woodlawn is truly grand as the lost and desperate girlfriend who is helplessly in love with the impotent drug addict Joe.

Trash is also more critical about the state of the American nation in the 60's.

After viewing Trash a second time I have to say that if Joe Dallesandro had not been in this film I doubt people would want to sit through it more than once. Maybe, but most likely not.

The film isn't bad but the acting is amateurish just enough to be distracting. The film is gritty, grimy and has a.... well, a trashy feel to it. Even Joe's fingernails in close-ups are dirty. But he is beautiful to behold. Young men today would give anything to have that body and let's be honest here, the camera loves his nude physique and we see a lot of it here. Full frontal male nudity.

It's hard not to become involved in the film because these people are desperate. They are barely able to survive. Somehow they manage to hold their heads up high and demand respect from other people even though they are living at the bottom of the barrel and very much need the welfare payments they are seeking.

The delivery of the dialog is out of place at times and it's hard to figure out how the actors went from point A to point B. Still, it is interesting to watch and Joe definitely looks good on screen.

Trash does everything a good underground movie should: it portrays a squalid milieu unabashedly; it deconstructs cinema technique to the point of obliterating it; it provides the kind of transgressive kicks that can normally only be had in places frequented by men in raincoats. It's a sick movie but it's far from repulsive. Spatially it's a disaster, and performance-wise it's even worse, but the rawness of it, the (nearly) complete lack of pretense, is refreshing given the false nobility of so many films that seek to criticize the same dregs, the same lower-rung wash-outs, that this movie unflinchingly presents. The film offers undistilled squalor, unfiltered dubious behavior, but does so with its tongue planted firmly in its cheek.

The "plot" is a loosely connected series of episodes involving the strangely magnetic Joe Dallesandro's encounters with various women, all of whom want to get in his pants. What Joe wants is not sex but drugs; he's an unapologetic junkie whose life entails drifting from one partner to another, holing up here and there, doing whatever women want as long as he thinks they'll give him money. And what an array of women: first there's the young go-go dancer (Geri Miller) who does a charming nude frolic to a rock and roll tune; then there's Holly (the drag queen Holly Woodlawn), Joe's main source of housing and income, a buck-toothed broad (?) who furnishes her apartment with garbage she picks up off the side of the road (her coffee table is a lobster-trap). And of course we mustn't forget the woman identified only as Rich Girl (Andrea Feldman), a Grosse Pointe, Michigan deb, transplanted to New York, whose house Joe breaks into, much to her delight. The most memorable sequence involves Rich Girl, who becomes giddy at the prospect of the muscular, well-endowed Joe raping her (she invites him to do it on the couch), then helps Joe bathe while her husband (Rich Guy?) waits in the living room. The performance of Andrea Feldman can only be described as gratingly off-key, but Feldman, with her plucked eyebrows and fabulous bone-structure, is fun to watch anyway, doing the most outrageous, unfair caricature of upper-crust vacuity imaginable. The sequence reaches a kind of crazy comic height when Joe starts shooting heroin with Rich Girl and her hubby watching, Rich Girl rattling on and on about how she's never seen anyone shoot drugs before, and has never done drugs herself, and was a virgin when she married her husband, the heaviness of Dallesandro's muscular, veiny body providing a kind of counterpoint to the vapid, nasally flow of words. Much of the movie hinges on the contrast between Dallesandro's druggy torpor, his eyes barely able to focus, and the nervous energy thrown off by the various women. The parade of horrendous, high-pitched female acting streams past while Dallesandro remains immovable, a lean, sexually-indifferent force of nature.

It's amazing to watch Dallesandro, a man devoid of anything you might call talent but blessed with more raw magnetism than most Hollywood stars. You can't say that he has personality, exactly, but he does have an overpowering physical presence, and a strangely likable quality that he conveys almost in spite of himself. He spends almost the entire movie listening to women babble, enduring their clumsy seductions, and what makes it all so funny is how oblivious he is, how unconcerned with anything but figuring out how to score more smack. Joe (the character) is a man of total integrity - he makes no particular effort to ingratiate himself, and doesn't pretend to be anything other than what he is. Director Paul Morrissey has an enormous affection for Joe, who he sees as a silent movie character, a smack-head Little Tramp (the film opens and closes with a tune straight out of a silent movie). Had the film been made in the twenties, Joe would've been the dogged hero suffering the abuses of society while never losing his dignity or his hat; in the '60s, Joe is not dignified so much as impenetrably dense, and whatever drives him forward is not doggedness but a kind of blind instinct for survival. Society's abuses are not delineated much (except in the clankingly phony last scene, where Joe and Holly try to swindle a crooked Welfare rep, and the tone becomes almost self-righteous), but there's always this suggestion of forces at work against Joe and his companions, the looming specter of injustice.

The film is consistent in its anti-film aesthetic, its transgressive attitude, its sub-hard-core sense of shock. It's not an avant-garde film in the same knowing, self-absorbed way as one of Kenneth Anger's fetishistic, devilish orgies. It has an innocence to it, the innocence of two kids playing doctor in the bushes. It's not the kind of movie that wants to beat you over the head with hipness; it's a surprisingly accessible film, at times a lovable one. Of course it helps not to be too uptight when viewing it: a catalogue of the film's more explicit content includes oral-sex (shot from behind the man, the woman's hands all over his pimply butt); some rather blunt, not-particularly-erotic "regular" sex; numerous images of Dallesandro's impressive member; penetration-by-beer-bottle; and, of course, lots of needles going into veins (and one pubescent backside). In another film this might all seem repugnant, even irresponsible, but in Trash this material represents the mere facts of life. And who but the most easily offended could get riled about the facts of life?

Trash is a classic. It is a film that could only have been made in the early '70's. It captures people, locations and scenarios that existed then. I haven't seen this film in 20 years so viewing the DVD was a revelation. This type of guerilla filmmaking is less about a script and more about capturing a moment. I can't imagine these actors sitting around rehearsing scripted lines.It feels more like they were given a situation and then created the dialogue on the spot. I love this movie for this reason. One thing about this trilogy (Flesh/Heat/Trash) is that you feel like your watching documentaries not movies. The fact that these films really have no beginning or ending lends itself to this definition. I'm always anticipating meeting the characters in these films. They may not be individuals that I would want to know , (ie.neurotics, psychotics, junkies, poseurs, losers and the like.) But they are the environment in which the main characters are forced to reside. John Waters' films of this era were similar but have a more scripted sensation to them. We will never see the likes of this type of filmmaking again. It is an era unto itself. It's obvious that the late 70's/early '80's films of R. Kern or Nick Zedd were influenced by Morrissey and Waters but they are pale imitations. See this film. At times it can be banal and boring and insane but so is life.

When Andy Warhol approached Paul Morrisey about making a film dealing with drugs,Morrisey thought right away of making it as anti drug a film as possible. The proof in the proverbial pudding is 'Trash',which started out being called Drug Trash,but was shortened at the last minute by Morrisey & Warhol,themselves. This is a film that one could look at as being either a dark drama,or even darker comedy dealing with the various persons who use/abuse Heroin. Joe Dellisandro is a young junkie trying to keep one step ahead of his addiction (and usually failing). It also chronicles the various low lives that weave & bob in and out of his existence. It has some of the ugliest scenes of Heroin use that I've seen,outside of some of the footage that could be seen on a weekly basis on the series 'Intervention'. Toss in wall to wall male & female full frontal nudity,rampant sexual romping & various other droppings, and you have yourself a film that could easily scare one away from even considering trying Heroin,or any other self injecting drug. This film does,however have a grainy,kitchen sink,"do it yourself" (or D.I.Y.)look that does give the smarmy going's on a requisite,dingy look that really works (it was originally filmed on 16mm film stock & blown up to 35mm for distribution--i.e.the early John Waters' films,such as 'Pink Flamingos,and all of the other pre-Polyester films) Originally slapped with an 'X' rating by the MPAA,this film serves up the above mentioned drug abuse (with some truly ugly scenes of shooting up Heroin),nudity,actual on screen sexuality (including an on screen rape), a scene involving masturbation with a beer bottle,and lots & lots of profanity

Quite liked Flesh and looking forward to Heat but couldn't help but feel Morrissey grossly exploited most of the "performers" featured here. Stumbling around naked in a narcotic stupor seems to be all Dallesandro was capable of in this feature--a huge and heartbreaking contrast from Flesh. His semi-erection in a few scenes is the only indication that he might be acting; mostly it looks like something he did to buy drugs. Woodlawn is a revelation all right--she is the embodiment of the Lower East Side. But hers is a one woman show--she rarely engages the other performers though, it has to be said, her sex scene with a beer bottle definitely leaves Halle Berry in the shade when it comes to cinematic displays of raw passion. When she pounces on a young, would-be lover it is with the ferocity of a vampire. Two of the female performers, Andrea and Jane, have such annoying voices you'll have to mute the sound to get through their scenes. The fact that several of these performers committed suicide or were murdered a few years after only adds to the air of exploitation. But they were probably desperate to get in front of Morrissey's camera anyway. There probably isn't a worse way to spend a Saturday night but at least it brings a specific time and place vividly to life.

I became familiar with the Paul Morrissey-Joe Dallesandro trilogy by watching "Flesh". I loved it, but there were many flaws that could not be overlooked (i.e., forgettable acting, bad editing and sound, boring intervals in plot). I did expect better with "Trash" and it delivered more than I wished for.

Joe Dallesandro gives another fantastic performance as a junkie who will do anything for heroin. But unlike his appearance in "Flesh", Joe barely creates any sexual longing from the audience. The plotline is simple: Joe wants heroin, his girlfriend Holly wants welfare, and you get to see some strange characters and situations as they try to reach their goal(s). Morrissey produced several winning actors in "Flesh", one of which was Geri Miller as a ditzy but lovable stripper. Geri plays another ditzy but lovable stripper and is just as good, if not better, here. For those of you who remember hearing her conversation about choosing between plant juice or silicone for her breast implants, you can't help but wonder which she picked, for in a stripping sequence, Geri's breasts are noticeably larger. It is in this film that I noticed Morrissey's casting is similar to that of John Waters: Morrissey-Geri Miller; Waters-Cookie Mueller Morrissey-Jane Forth; Waters-Mary Vivian Pearce Morrissey-Andrea Feldman; Waters-Edith Massey (in the "where the hell did they come from?" category)

Candy Darling and Jackie Curtis are gone from the cast, but to take both of their places is Holly Woodlawn, who steals the film from absolutely everybody! She was supposed to have been nominated for an Oscar for her performance in this film, but because Holly is a transvestite, there was questioning as to which category? She is fabulous, better than any other Warhol star before or since, and is both hilarious and heartbreaking. Andrea Feldman is a wild, outrageous character actress and while her voice is annoying, her personality is interesting. Jane Forth, a 16-year-old actress, has an equally annoying voice, but her performance as a talkative rich snob is great. Other notable appearances include Johnny Putnam, who was Holly Woodlawn's 16-year-old boyfriend, as a teen looking for dope and Michael Sklar as the welfare officer. Diane Podlewski as Holly's pregnant sister and Bruce Pecheur as Jane's husband aren't as memorable.

"Trash" features better editing style, better sound quality, better improvised dialogue, better stylistic camerawork, great sets, and a MUCH better ensemble cast. I would recommend this film more than any other Morrissey film besides perhaps "Blood for Dracula". Highly recommended!

This was the first Andy Warhol-Paul Morrissey film I ever saw; the shock value wears off a bit after a while, but its boldness and uniqueness never do. "Trash" will probably offend anyone who's not prepared for it, with its full-frontal nudity, close-ups of needles entering veins and a scene of a woman who replaces the impotent hero with a beer bottle as her sexual companion (!), but the dialogue (which seems to have been written on the spot) has a ring of authenticity and Joe Dallesandro walks around in a constant stupor so utterly convincingly that it's hard to believe he wasn't actually "on" something when this was being filmed! But be warned: the script is non-existent and the transitions from one scene to another are often very abrupt. (**)

What in the hell is this? Well, lets see, Independent, improvised. Only one word can truly describe Andy Warhol's Trash, Hilarious. This story of sleaze begins with a close-up shot of Joe Dallesandro's ass.This time Joe plays a heroin addict, who, after years and years of heroin abuse, has lost all ability to enjoy anything, or to even get an erection. Did I mention that Joe is only 18? Also, Joe looks as healthy as a horse, seriously, he looks like hes been hitting the weights. way to go, guys. After ten minutes of nudity, and incoherent conversation, we're finally introduced to Joe's girlfriend, Holly. Thats right, you guessed it, Holly is a trans-gender, I mean a trans gender, who is playing the role of a real woman, otherwise, that would just be weird. Holly is actually, by far, the trashiest thing about Trash. Joe and Holly, broke and lazy, living in some crummy basement, stealing whatever they can, dealing with his addiction and her nymphomania. Their ultimate goal? Welfare.

If the people in this film gave just a little bit of a damn about their performance, then Trash just wouldn't be the diamond in the rough, that it is. Joe Dallesandro's natural indifference to everything, and everybody, more than makes up for his non-heroin addict appearance, although, he really just acts like a stoner, I guess. Strangely, the most horrifying thing about Holly would be that massive over-bite, which seems to grow as the movie progresses. Of course, the highlight of Andy Warhol's Trash would be the hilarious, Jane Forth, she makes it all worth it, with her inability to decide whether she's playing a crazy house wife, or a brain-dead nymph, her "performance" will leave you speechless, Trash will leave you speechless. Normally, when something is improvised, like Reno 911 for example, there is usually some basic idea of what's supposed to occur, I don't think Trash even has that. Unlike one of John Waters' trash epics, the trashiness of Trash is (a little) more subtle, which gives our brains more room to take in exactly how funny all this is. Aside from Frankenstein and Dracula, this is probably Paul Morrissey's best work. The only thing, I just wish they hadn't stopped playing this on the Disney Channel. 8/10

This could be taken either as a farce or a serious drama, or an intermingling of the two -- I think that's the best way to watch it, as some scenes are undeniably funny, but to view *all* of this as a joke would suggest that it's a lot more distanced than it is. This is really an ode to and worshipping of nakedness -- real nakedness, blemishes and all -- naked genitals, naked emotions. (What makes the naked emotions so interesting, dealing with most of the performers except Dallesandro, is that they're based on extreme affectation -- "I've got to get some aaaacid" -- but still reveal more than the majority of more "accomplished" acting does.)

It would be easy to look at this as a parading of freaks -- the light bulb credits, and Geri Miller dancing topless to the line, "Mama, look at me now!" But that wouldn't take into account the fact that Miller is nothing if not sincere. The movie works by capturing literal abstractions, if that makes any sense -- out of focus close-ups that work both as simple pieces of formal beauty (Joe's silhouetted face on the street, with a golden background, as he talks to Andrea Feldman), and as insistent closeness.

This is the real reality of drug use -- dirty, pimpled, de-glamorized, and, above all, boring. Morrissey has always worked with satire and seriousness intertwined, so it might be difficult for some people to note the complexity of his work. When Joe begins to rape a woman, it turns into semi-passionate sex. Another woman hears about this and asks him to rape her. Another woman suggests that, since you have sex with strangers, why not family? Morrissey is making fun of all of this at the same time as he's probing into it; this isn't *just* a comedy, it's much more than that -- look at the scene where Jane Forth says to Dallesandro that his complexion is looking a little rough, a statement so intimate, so aware, so personal that it knocks him off guard. (Sometimes it's just sex without any moral judgment, such as when Holly Woodlawn, in a performance that defies categorization, declothes and fondles a young boy.)

It's often absurd, as in the scene where Joe is stoned stupid and naked, and Forth and her husband are bickering as he stumbles around their living room, a scene of bourgeois mockery. When Forth's husband asks him what it's like being a junky, his curiosity almost makes it seem like the junky life is a worthy life -- at least it's individualistic. 9/10

Warhol's name is emblazoned all over this and many others but it's Morrissey's film, one that lends the idea that he just let the camera roll and let his cast improvise the rest. It's Midnight Cowboy without the gloss factor and it all works. Andrea Feldman of course is a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket and still wants LSD, Joe can't get it up and Holly Woodlawn botches her attempt to get welfare by losing her pillow but gets to keep her trashy shoes. Not exactly upwardly mobile or in Woody Allen's neck of the woods but an extremely funny and occasionally touching portrait of people in society just trying to get by. Great film.

This is absolute drivel, designed to shock and titillate the 60's mindset. The acting is completely wooden, consisting mainly of ad-libbing, which results in the sub standard actors dribbling the first thing they can think of, repetitively.

The end result is of a badly written play being read by people who have no idea and couldn't care. The one exception to this is the lead character "Joe" (played by Joe Dallesandro) who spends a lot of the film in a naked stupor (either stoned, or the only one in the piece who can act!) Please don't think I don't "get" Warhol - this is plainly and simply a Stinker that should never have made it out of a film class.

Morrissey has said that he wanted to show how drug addicts are really nothing more than trash, which I guess would make this film little more than a 60s "Reefer Madness." Fortunately, he is enough of a filmmaker to let himself (and us) be surprised by the insanely goofy, and sometimes just insane, performances of the people in front of his camera.

Dallesandro is very photogenic, and seems to really be trying to shape and stay in a character. Andrea Feldman is simply crazy, with her flat expression, drawling monotone, and probably pathological rhyming speech, but she does manage to rip out some of the film's funniest lines. Jane Forth doesn't have a lot of control (she seems to be struggling not to laugh while dragging the naked, O.D.ing Joe around her apartment), but her story about Danny DiVito and the tank is not to be missed. Holly Woodlawn is every bit as good as you have heard. As screwed up and drug-addled as she may have been (and, fortunately, no longer seems to be), Woodlawn is a natural actor with a broad range and a raging intelligence.

Finally, the film, though out of focus at points and probably shot with terrible equipment, is surprising beautiful. Morrissey's later, and weaker, "Spike of Bensonhurst" shows that this is no accident. He really does have an eye, and he shows in "Trash" that he has a willingness to let the performances speak for themselves, even if he has no ability to shape those performances.

As was to be expected, this presents more of the same from The Andy Warhol Factory, even more so because this is actually a continuation of the story started out in FLESH (1968). Even though lasting for a strained (and strenuous) 110 minutes, as a film it's undeniably superior to the previous outing: the plot, if so it can be called, now sees Joe Dallesandro's hustling years behind him and he just bums around and fills himself up with dope, while doing the occasional robbery to procure the money needed to satiate his fix! Likewise, the diminutive go-go dancer/stripper played by Geri Miller in FLESH returns here just for the opening sequence where it is clear that she has finally had the breast implants she craved (and whined for) so much in the earlier film!

Otherwise, we meet a variety of new (and irritatingly neurotic) characters: first and foremost is Holly Woodlawn, a temperamental transvestite with bad teeth who also happens to be Dallesandro's landlady and lover. The scene showing her satisfying 'herself' sexually with a beer bottle because Joe is impotent due to his excessive drug use is both unnerving and hilarious; as is the final sequence of the film where the low-life couple are visited by a social worker with a foot fetish (he's willing to throw the necessary red tape aside and recommend them for welfare status, if only Holly would let him have her shoes – which she picked off the garbage to begin with)! Woodlawn's performance was much admired at the time and, reportedly, gay Hollywood director George Cukor had even actively campaigned for her to be considered among the year's Oscar nominees!!

The gallery of society drop-outs also feature Woodlawn's ugly pregnant sister who seduces Dallesandro but is caught in the act by Holly who, in a hysterical fit, throws her sibling out into the streets despite her condition; a girl (played by one Andrea Feldman, more on her later when I get to the third entry in the series) with an annoying drawl and obsessed with laying her hands on some LSD – truly, she is one of the most annoying characters ever committed to celluloid; and a young suburban couple whom Joe meets while attempting to rob their place: the wife is a chatterbox nymphomaniac and the whole scene degenerates into a violent family squabble just as Dallesandro OD's on crack and gets unceremoniously ejected from the apartment!

Therefore, it goes without saying that, apart from copious full-frontal nudity – again, primarily from Mr. Dallesandro (as had the case with the appropriately-titled FLESH) – the film contains graphic scenes of drug-taking. For the record, the "Holly" and "Little Joe" characters referenced in ex-Velvet Underground frontman Lou Reed's 1972 hit single "Walk On The Wild Side" actually refer to…drum roll, please…Holly Woodlawn and Joe Dallesandro!

I've read about the movie's low budget process and expected a low quality flim, but I was surprised by how good this movie is. It is so raw and the actors are so natural that it feels almost like a documentary (perhaps the actors are not so different from their characters, but none the less they are fascinating people).

The characters are strange and high most of the time, which makes the movie absolutely hilarious. This is a brilliant, unique film, thanks to Paul Morrissey and Andy Warhol's eccentric vision and their Superstars.

I enjoyed Trash very much, and would probably go so far as to call it my favorite Warhol/Morissey film. I mean, what's there not to like about it? Joe walks around looking pretty and dumb, and Holly just talks her head off like only she can. It's a gas. It's much better than Heat, which I thought didn't really go anywhere...or was that Flesh? God bless those interchangeable plots. Thank you, Andy!

I think Trash really sucks. I watched it a couple of weeks ago and I haven't seen that kind of c**p at the cinema since Female Trouble by John Waters and that was even worse. The dialogues, the acting; it really stank, it was so bad it made me want to leave the cinema and ask for my money back. But actually I am glad I saw it, because then I could tell my honest opinion on it. One should see this film, even though it stinks.

This film's realism dispelled the myth "that drugs are supposed to free people from inhibitions". This movie for me was a revelation in film making, a affirmation of the beauty and pathos of human degradation. Joe Dallesandro plays a junkie living with his girlfriend Holly (played by Holly Woodlawn) in the streets of lower east side N.Y. They substitute their income from Holly's knack of bringing home trash from the streets which she inturn either keeps, or sells. Holly takes her trash seriously. As she warns Joe when he's carelessly moves their pedestal sink, "Careful. people are gonna pee in there." From the outside perspective, the characters themselves are trash, like the trash they drag in from the streets. The camera follows Joe around in from one place to the next while he shoots up, gets naked, or is seduced by all women he comes in contact with, mostly a combination of all. In one scene with Geri (played by Geri Miller) and Joe, Geri wants to screw with Joe so badly, trying first blowing him, then dancing naked on a stage she constructed in her home, fondling, and then more blowing to no avail. The use of drugs by Joe has made him totally impotent, but he doesn't miss it, in fact he never even remembers that he used to be "dynamite" as Geri concedes. The more sympathetic yet ludicrous of Geri's attempts to arouse Joe include appealing to his mind by asking of political issues like: "Do you think we should have war?". In two wholly improvised scenes, Holly shows a dignity and self-respect that deny her the label trash. When she finds Joe in bed with her pregnant sister, Holly explodes, because of the betrayal by her two most cared for people in the world. In Woodlawn's on camera improvisation, her original emotions of sexual jealousy and indignation soften under her maternal sentiments: "There's her mattress, now she's never going to use it. And her kid's bassinet - so what if it's only a drawer." Her anger unleashed on Joe mostly from the inability of Joe making it with her, and now finding him with her sister, to which Joe responds with " I just wanted to see if I could do it." Holly's integrity is confirmed later, when she refuses the offer of Mr. Michaels (Michael Sklar), the social worker, to give her welfare support in exchange for the silver platform shoes she found in the garbage. Individual shots carefully conceived, inserts of street life, which root the narrative in the real world, are more carefully pointed to the characters. Morrissey's static tripod camera suggests a cool, unflinching eye watching life of real people unfold. Trash represents Morrissey & Dallesandro at their best work out of the Three Movies (Heat, Trash, Flesh.).

This is the second film collaboration, of three between Paul Morrissey and Andy Warhol, and certainly it is the most serious and depressing of the three. The acting by Joe Dalassandro is actually good in this one, but the rest of the cast is poor and unprofessional. This one also has a home movie look to it and is extremely low budget like the others. It also is oddly fascinating, like a voyeur looking in on strangers private lives. They are hard films to rate, because the quality is so bad, but on the other hand the crudeness of the movies is appealing in a strange sort of way. One thing for sure, the films are unique and controversial, even now.

Yes, it's pure trash. It might be interesting for every guy who likes experimental cinema (like me) to see lowlifes babbling and doing nothing for almost two hours, but it gets very painful when you realize you have actually paid for this. Probably, this is one of those films you love to watch for its complete emptiness and nihilism. I accept it though for its shock value, decades before Trainspotting and Pulp Fiction.

Overall Trash by Paul Morrisey revolves around the unfortunate reality of unrestrained addicted junkies. After watching the film for the first few minutes, I was skeptical about watching the rest. This film shows the extremities of being an "addict" and basically how pitiful yet funny watching stoners can be. This film is a good one too show to older kiddies. I'm sure they would never abuse drugs in fears of getting molested by a woman as (Holly) played by Holly Woodland. Trash overall revolves around the life of Joe Dallesandro & his daily pursuit of heroin. Joe has become impotent due to his addiction & has no sex drive … that is until the end of film. He ends ups up doing his girlfriends very pregnant sister. On the other hand Holly (his girlfriend) has her way with a high school student right in front of him. Joe says and does nothing …. as with the stripper, the rich LSD junkie and the desperate housewife who he meets. Threw out the film Joe Dallesandro is a zoned out zombie on a mission for money or herion most preferably just herion. Unfortunately on his path are incredibly immoral, high pitched annoying woman. A beer bottle scene that would leave you speechless. The truth about getting welfare or …better yet the inability to receive welfare. Holly prefers her silver shoes over welfare when she is asked to give them up..(zombie!) The woman hoards everything (literally) in the dump of a basement she shares with Joe. The movie will shock many with scenes so unexpected ,but then this is also the reality of how certain people live. There are no morals, restraints or passion in this film. Well the only true passion lies with Joe in his desire to get heroin. There is nudity of mostly defiled Joe by the woman in his life. Who he finds no real use for, what a life! Overall a good realistic movie of the classic natures.

You have to love movies very much, to be a "life dedicated" to resist to see films like Trash from head to tail. It is very boring, only talk. Plus some scenes in which Joe Dallesandro is repeatedly sticking needles into his veins(well, his character is a drug addict and that's all he knows to do...). But, however, the film has undeniable merits. With the exception of Dallesandro, about whose acting skills I do not want to talk (most likely he was Himself in front of the camera...), the actresses are really exceptional, of a unmatched naturalness and credibility. I mean specially Holly Woodlawn and Jane Forth but also Andrea Feldman, Diane Podel and Michael Sklar.