Original subtitles

I haven't used one in so many years.

Oh good...

Perfect. A perfect forgery.

* "My Dearest Darling" by E.J. Bocage, P Gayten

* All I need

* is someone like you,

* my dearest darling,

* please love me too.

* Within my heart,

* I pray your answer's yes.

* I'll make your life

full of happiness. *

Hi. I'm Candy Darling.

I'm an actress here in New York.

I've been in eight pictures.

Small parts in big pictures and big parts in small pictures.

We're doing a picture together. Candy Darling.

Well, we're calling it "Blonde on a Bum Trip."

Jane Fonda is going to be in Warhol's next movie

- at least she thought so. Warhol did not.

I hope!

Who is certainly going to be in it is Warhol's newly discovered star: Candy.

I call myself Candy Warhol now. (laughter)

Cash me in!

I was with my father and my uncle. I had done a reading.

And they came to see it. And Candy was there.

They became very courtly with her: she demanded that.

I remember when she left, my uncle and my father stood up,

and I'd never seen them do that before.

Everybody had left the theater, it was 3 or 4 o'clock,

and it was the two of us, and we spent like an hour there.

But I remember this pasty white makeup that was kind of coming off,

and underneath it I could see a beard, and, um...

I said to them, I said, well,

now I don't know if she is a transsexual or a transvestite,

I said, but this is not a woman that was born a woman, like when she was born

the doctor slapped her on the backside and said "it's a girl".

And they went "what?", I mean, they both, like, ...

Probably shouldn't say this, but I went out on the sidewalk afterward,

and something about the division of the sexes,

or something that must have gone back to my childhood, I threw up on the sidewalk.

And after they recovered there for a few seconds,

I remember my father taking a gulp of his beer, a couple big gulps,

he said, "Well," he said, "God bless her, she certainly pulled it off."

"WALK ON THE WILD SIDE" by Lou Reed* Candy came from out on the Island.

In the back room, she was everybody's darling.

But she never lost her head, even when she was giving head,

she says Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side, hey babe take a walk...*

I was in Max's, and she told me

that Lou Reed had written a song about her.

And I said, "In a pig's ass Lou Reed wrote a song about you!"

And she said, "OK, Mr. Wise Guy, I'll show you,"

and she walked over to the jukebox and put on "Walk On the Wild Side".

I was totally amazed.

I made the, uh, transfer last night. I moved the ashes from, um, the urn...

I just wanted to show this, 'cause...

I don't know if I can get it out without much problem...

um, this picture, little picture, meant so much to Candy.

It could be Germany, it could be anywhere, it's, uh, sort of a dark church and a road,

and Candy, when we lived together, always wanted it, you know. She really...

And I liked it, I kept it, I said I don't want to give it to you.

But when she was sick, I gave it to her.

And she said that was her favorite possession.

And I believe it, 'cause she really liked it for some reason.

And she used to say, "Well, we'll both meet by the church and continue on this road."

So, she's getting it.

All right, let's take down the picture, Jeremiah!

This is my life.

Get her down, she's getting out!

Get her out of here! We don't need her in this theater anymore!

Get a close-up of this! Who is it, who is it?

This is a piece of the dress that she wore when she was buried,

and in it is her hair.

The cat is interested in this. See.

This is her hair, when she was healthy, and it's still very full and, you know...

Uh-uh, get down...

All right, well, she is taking all these things with her on her travels,

and I wish her the very best.

And when I was a child, I used to fill up the bathtub,

and put blue food coloring in the bathtub to make the water blue, like in Technicolor.

And a few years later, I discovered, uh, Kim Novak, in "The Eddie Duchin Story",

and I was always attracted to women with white hair.

I thought it was the prettiest.

I remember Candy once told me that when she was very young,

she sent away for an autographed photo of Kim Novak.

When the mailman finally delivered that envelope, and she opened it up,

and she saw the photo of Kim Novak, and it said

"To James, love, Kim Novak", or something like that,

she said that she couldn't stop looking at the photo...

...for the entire day.

And she told me this story very, very seriously.

It was apparent that it was one of the most important moments in her life.

I had to understand, from that point on, that to be a movie star,

to be considered a beautiful woman, to be considered a beautiful movie star,

was the most important thing in Candy's life.

She idolized women who had achieved this, and this is what she wanted to be.

This was the most important thing in her life, this is why she was alive.

[KIM NOVAK, IN "PICNIC", You know, some boys,

well when they take a girl in their arms to dance,

Some boys when they take a girl in their arms to dance

well they make you feel sort of uncomfortable.

you feel sort of uncomfortable

But with you,

But with you I had the feeling

that you knew exactly what you were doing,

and I could follow you every step of the way.

Did you see "Picnic?" You know when she said that to William Holden?

Kim was my favorite star,

I went nuts over her when she came out.

- I know

You know, she was so strong, that's why I liked her.

There was something stable about Kim, something so strong and...

Joan Crawford had that, and Barbara Stanwyck,

we were talking about that before you came in, they had that very strong thing...

Oh, but Kim, Kim was also vulnerable...

- I understand that Kim...

and I liked Kim's looks.

Her model was something at least one, probably two, generations previous.

That comes from, you know, I guess, watching television.

Or, you know, looking at movie magazines, or, living in someone else's past,

not even her own past. You know? So it was all a fantasy.

No, she didn't live in the past. She was a humorist.

She and her particular type of humor, had to do with

making fun, a little bit, of film stars of the past.

I don't need you...

I don't need you!

I don't need anyone!

I'm Jeanne Eagels!

That's Jeanne Eagels (laughter)

I remember going to the Cedar Tavern with her once,

and she was playing out the scene from Jeanne Eagels jumping off the fire escape.

You know, there was a lot of dying as the young, beautiful star.

She lived that out, it's very odd.

Yeah, I want to arrange for a burial on Saturday.

Uh, two people, my mom, and a person named Candy Darling, who was an actress,

and my mother's name was Katherine Newton.

And they died in 1974 and 1989, they were cremated.

And when I di-- When she died, and I saw her lying in the coffin,

it was almost as if I saw myself lying in the coffin.

This horrible scream went through my body, and people really wrote me off afterwards,

afterwards they thought, "well, you remind us so much of Candy,

we really don't want you around."

I wish she was here, but she's not.

There's nothing I can do about it, nothing.

I can't mix a potion, I can't stand on my head in Times Square,

I can't do anything. It's over.

When you're in your 30's and 40's, you don't think about death.

It only comes later, it creeps up at you at night.

The little voice says, "Well, you know, Jeremiah, where are you going to go when you die?"

Honey, come on!

I'm not answering the door, Lance!

You open that fucking door,

I'll kick your fucking face in!

I'll answer it.

NO!

Come on!

Hi, honey! Hi, honey!

What the fuck is going on in here?

* One, two testing one, two,

And the date is October 15th, 1974

I first met Candy on a street called Greenwich Avenue.

I must have been about 15 years old. I was frightened of her.

I didn't know whether she wanted me sexually...

She told me to call her, and I called her and told her she couldn't stay with me,

and she was very, very disappointed,

because she was desperate to get out from where she was living.

Oh, no! Oh, Lance! Please! That's all there is!

You fucking cheap slut!

I was living in Flushing, on a quiet little street,

and the next-door neighbors would have talked.

I didn't want them to think that I was living with some sort of drag queen.

Stop it!

Her personality was just so strong. I wasn't ready for her.

(loud thump) Good riddance to bad rubbish.

But, when I got my apartment in Manhattan, we were best friends, all of a sudden.

We became really close friends. You know, it was like a book opened.

Meet Andy Warhol.

Oh really? Oh.

"Andy Warhol" by David Bowie * Andy walking, Andy Tired, Andy take a little snooze

Tie him up when he's fast asleep, Send him on a pleasant cruise

When he wakes up on the sea. Be sure to think of me and you

He'll think about paint and he'll think about glue. What a jolly boring thing to do *

Andy came into a luncheonette where I was working as a waitress.

And he came over to me and said "You should be in movies". (laughter)

* Andy Warhol looks a scream, hang him on my wall.

Andy Warhol, Silver Screen, Can't tell them apart at all*

Andy, why is it you're making these films?

Um, well, it's just easier to do.

It's easier to do than, um, painting.

Normal films, the burden is more on the director.

And, I mean, if you're doing

a scene, and you can't,

if you don't feel well that day,

or you can't think of anything to say, it's just too bad.

You know, maybe you won't do another scene.

Candy wanted to be a movie star.

Candy was a man who wanted to be a female movie star.

And, you know, fell into the clutches of Andy, who told her she was.

And she thought that she was discovered, by Andy Warhol,

you know, the new, the biggest, uh, the MGM of the East Coast,

that he was going to really make her the next

Jean Harlow, Lana Turner, Marilyn Monroe, all rolled into one,

and she would be the biggest movie star on the planet.

Tell us about the film, what's the film about?

Uh, it's called "Blonde on a Bum Trip." What's it about? Candy?

Islam!

It's about, um, a naive young lady...

who goes to Hollywood to make it big.

And the thing about Candy that was kind of curious, in that

here she was in the middle of this very avant-garde scene, of Andy Warhol's factory

and underground film-making, and Pop Art, and she really was a throwback, you know,

she was someone who wished the studio system still existed,

and sort of saw Andy as Louis B. Mayer, except Andy, in some ways, was,

but he didn't have the resources of a Louis B. Mayer.

And she wanted to be Kim Novak, she wanted to be kind of the queen of the studio.

*Oh yes we do, we love you Andy, and we'll be true...

When you're not near to us, we're blue, Oh, Andy, we love you.*

I think Candy was very avant-garde,

in terms of who she was and how she invented herself.

In terms of making comparisons between Andy's Superstars, I mean,

there was nothing fragile about Candy, she was just a very potent,

very confident, very powerful presence in a way.

I had Limburger cheese and bagels for breakfast; garlic dressing for lunch;

steak and onions for dinner; but you'll never know.

Because I'll always stay "Kissing Sweet", the new "dazzle dental" way.

Cut!

Nico was the silent type,

so you really were engaged with Nico on the level of the way she looked,

which was very dynamic in its own way.

I think Edie was maybe trying too hard, on a certain level,

to assume a certain role or a certain stance, in terms of taking herself seriously.

But I think Edie was searching, more, for the kind of identity

that Candy had already arrived at.

I think a lot of artists, their greatest work is themselves,

I think Andy is in that category as well, and Candy was an artist,

and her - she was her own artwork.

Feel pretty good about being shown here at the Whitney Museum?

Uh, oh, I don't know... Candy, what do you think?

Well it's good...

This is the first time Candy's been to a museum.

Oh, is it? You've never been to a museum before?

Um, maybe when I was, um, in school, but I live only across the street,

so I can come here all the time.

What do you think of the exhibit?

Well, I think it's, uh, colorful, and, uh, it's so... it's all right...

There's a lot of room here.

I think that's more the part where Andy liked Candy,

the fact it's a person playing the part of being themselves,

it's a weird dichotomy, it's: they're real, but they're not real.

I was in Toronto, Canada, on a publicity tour with Andy. It was so exciting.

Did you see my picture in Photoplay? What? You didn't know?

Yes my dear: your famous cousin has finally made page 5 of the January issue of our old bible.

Remember how we used to pore over those fan magazines?

Drooling over Liz and Kim, hating Debbie?

Well, now they can drool over me, because I'm famous, and I'm beautiful.

(In my 82 pounds of makeup.)

Candy could be embarrassed. Candy got ashamed about things.

Candy, he liked people who had a sense of shame.

It's funny to say, but it was like, Jean Michel Basquiat was the same way,

he would turn red, you know. And Andy, it touched him,

because Andy was the same way.

Andy was older than Candy, quite a bit, I would imagine,

and Andy was obviously much more successful than Candy, um,

but probably, just being gay anytime before five minutes ago,

everyone had the same childhood, which was: Escape. And which was: Dream.

Your real prospects: not fabulous.

"Pink Shoe Laces" by Mickie Grant

* Tan shoes and pink shoelaces. A polkadot vest and man O man.

Tan shoes and pink shoelaces and a big Panama, with a purple hat band *

She grew up very near where I grew up, in a town called Massapequa,

in eastern Nassau County, and I grew up in Plainview,

and these were towns that were sort of built on potato fields in the mid-1950's.

It was very flat.

They built these developments with all ranch houses, or all Cape Cods,

or all split-levels, and everybody came from Brooklyn or the Bronx.

These communities were, like, uniformly middle-class,

they were very uniform in so many ways.

And all the public schools were completely new, everything was completely new:

the churches were new, the shopping centers were new,

and it was all very sterile in a way.

Uniformity was really prized in these communities.

* ...and a big Panama with a purple hat band...*

It's evening now. I'm home and I'm very tired. Thinking all day about Candy.

Terry showed me some pictures of Candy, when Candy was 14 or so.

Candy looked so incredibly adorable, and sexy, for a little boy.

Candy always had very good legs.

I can picture her as a little boy, showing her legs off to the best advantage,

sneakers and heavy white socks, and her long legs.

She told me how abusive her father had been to her,

very abusive father, and that, even in kindergarten, that she knew,

again, that there was something different about her,

that she wasn't the way other five-year-olds are.

I have lived most of my life starving for affection.

Both spiritual and emotional hunger. I lived through movie stars.

Most of my teen and pre-teen years were spent very lonely, looking at movie magazines.

I was in love with Laurence Harvey.

Every day I would watch the Million Dollar Movie and long for him.

Too gentle. Too gentle for the bullies.

Nobody loves me, or wants me.

I lead a dull, uninteresting existence.

I'm in homeroom now, and there's a bunch of chicks in here, and they all hate me.

Someday, I'll be a movie star. That's it.

And I'll be rich, and famous, and have all the friends I want.

And she told me how her mother would try to protect her.

Terry said that Candy would come home and, um,

she would see, her lips would be very red, and she'd say, "Why, uh, Jimmy,

are you wearing lipstick?" and Candy would say "No, no, of course not!"

And sometimes Candy's cheeks would be a little bit flushed,

and Terry would say "Are you wearing makeup?"

It was a place for people who didn't fit in.

Not people who pretended not to fit in.

People who actually could go to jail. People who actually couldn't get a job.

People who actually did something that no one was interested in.

A lot of people were either really crazy, or pretending to be really crazy,

you know, both of which were annoying.

People were so stoned, and so screwed up, that from one minute to the next,

you didn't even know who you were talking to.

People were becoming more into image,

and less into what was the reality of things.

And you basically were what you said you were.

When I first met Candy, Candy wasn't even in women's clothing,

because it was illegal in New York. It was called female impersonation,

if you were wearing any, uh, any women's clothes, they would arrest you.

You know, you had to wear pants, or, you know, she... we all dressed with bulky sweaters,

mohair sweaters as a matter of fact,

tight pants, and just a little bit of mascara,

that's all you could get away with.

And if the cops put a flashlight to your face, and they said "you're wearing mascara",

and it was true, (sqwish) they would throw you in jail,

that's how tough New York was at that time.

It was dangerous for a man to walk down the street wearing a dress.

You know, it was illegal.

And it wasn't just dangerous with cops; it was dangerous.

And believe me, if someone had gotten beaten up for doing that,

no one would have felt sorry for that person.

Well, I'm a surviving street queen from Christopher Street,

and, like, a generation of people who were on the streets who were gay,

just hung out together, and Greenwich Village was the place to do it.

The times were not easy, and, as I said, a lot of us had to carry shopping bags with our drag,

and later, stepping into doorways and what have you,

got further in drag, until the magic hour, after dark.

But much later, you were screaming, screaming, and feeling very comfortable,

because there were so many.

For want or reason, we would all get out, and stand under the street sign that said "Gay",

and yell "what is the name of this street?" "GAY STREET!"

But Candy would do it so much like a glamorous star: "Gay Street..."

Not many people really, like, knew her during that,

because she was "Hope Slattery" then. She went through many personas.

She was trying to, like, figure out where she was going.

The very first time I met Candy, was, uh, I remember,

I was facing Washington Square Park. And Candy was against the railing.

And, um, she was sort of, she hadn't gone completely drag at that time.

She was sort of like at a transition stage, you know.

And, um, I thought she was, at first I thought she was a lesbian.

You see, when we first met, a long time ago,

she was staying at the Hotel Seventeen, and I was living here,

and we bumped into each other, and she used to wear the same suit all the time,

so I knew it was her, 'cause then she was sneaking out of the Hotel Seventeen,

'cause she wasn't paying her bill, you know.

She and Jackie became very close, and Jackie was into theater,

she was a playwright, you know, she was into the Off-off-Broadway thing,

you know, she was into theater and Candy, you know, normally, got into it.

And then she got the love from an audience. Every night. And started becoming a star.

"Jackie Curtis' campy 'Glamor, Glory, and Gold',

at the Playwrights Workshop," and this is by Dan Sullivan in the New York Times,

"a skinny actress billed as Candy Darling also makes an impression.

Hers was the first female impersonation of a female impersonator

that I have ever seen."

Warhol came to see the first "Glamor, Glory, and Gold" and gave us a quote:

"For the first time, I wasn't bored."

This was about, this was about 1967, right?

Right, she wasn't that notorious yet, you know.

She wasn't always as careful then about her beard.

She was just a talented girl, as far as I was concerned, that at that time,

needed her hair bleached to blonde.

And then, after that, she, she stayed blonde.

And she also stayed with that blonde attitude.

"MAKEUP" by Lou Reed * Then comes pancake, Factor Number One,

eyeliner, rosehips, and lip gloss, such fun;

you're a slick little girl;

you're a slick little girl...

Rouge and coloring, incense and ice;

perfume and kisses, ooh, it's all so nice;

you're a slick little girl;

you're such a slick little girl...*

I am an irresistible magnet, with the power to attract unto myself

everything that I divinely desire, according to my thoughts, feelings,

and the mental pictures I constantly entertain and radiate.

I am the center of my universe.

There was a period when Candy was going around

picking up, uh, handmaidens. Little assistants, little slaves, all of the above!

You know what I mean? Without paying them.

Just, you know, just: "You are in the presence of..." You know, that was enough.

I, I think Jeremiah, at one point, was one of Candy's little,

"Would you like this, would you like that?", you know...

Jeremiah Newton was like a younger brother to Candy Darling.

Um, she knew he was star-struck by her beauty and her talent,

and therefore would do anything for her.

He was willing to do anything for her. And Jeremiah did everything for her.

She did open doors for me, no doubt about that.

And of course, the Factory, she brought me up to the Factory,

and introduced me to Andy and Fred and Bob and Vincent and Fran Lebowitz,

and all these people, and they were very cool, so... And, um, and great,

you know? That was great, the fact that I could go up to the Factory,

and when I got up to the floor, this eye would look in the door,

the door was always locked,

and there was a peephole, and the eye would look in the elevator, like this,

and you'd still be standing in the elevator,

and then when they'd see me, they'd open the door.

"Oh, it's Jeremiah, let him in," you know? And that was very cool.

Going out with people who don't enjoy my fame. And people who enjoy it too much.

People who are constantly looking at me when I go out.

There are so many different kinds of fame. My type is curious.

When strangers talk to me, they don't really listen. They're too busy looking.

If one desires money and fame too much, it can poison this life.

I must conquer New York - or be conquered.

* "In Crowd" by Bryan Ferry

I'm in with the "In" crowd, I go where the "In" crowd goes

I'm in with the "In" crowd, and I know what the "In" crowd knows *

Part of our life then was going to Max's every night.

So, you know, you'd go to Max's, and you'd go to the back room, and you'd meet Candy Darling.

A wonderful, simple, minimal, pink sculpture in the corner of the room,

where I, which was my table, and Nico's.

And then Andy had a big round table over in the other corner,

with whoever it was he was flattering, Candy, Jackie, whoever.

I wanted to go. I wanted a cool place to go. I knew Candy went there.

She'd go into the back room, and you know... models, fashion designers,

they were all going oh, oh, Candy, Jackie, Holly, mwah, mwah, can I touch you!

Basically, you're talking about an entire group of people

who'd have a tantrum if everyone wasn't paying attention to them.

And it was not just for the attention of Andy,

it was for the attention of the back room at Max's, you know, they wanted to be stars.

Once in a while Candy would say "Oh!", let out a slight shout,

and then go back into her glamour, just being watched.

I remember sitting there, and a few of my high school chums,

that I didn't like, saw me in the back room.

And the guard at the back room said, "Boys, you can't come in here. This is special."

And they were so mad, they couldn't believe it. And I loved it, I said "Yes!

This is good, this is really good. I'm so happy now!"

People were very interesting. I mean, even in retrospect.

Not every person. It was a, I think, pretty interesting group. It was fun.

I mean, it was really fun.

Oh yes, I'd love to.

Well, um, I'm at the Factory. I'm at the Factory,

924-4344.

"Dear Candy Darling, I'm sure you remember me.

I was the manager of the Vista Theater on Sunset Drive, Hollywood, California.

You meet me" - he wrote "meet me" and not "met me" - "you meet me last November"

- he's an Indian, I think - "while seeing the movie 'Lorna', a Russ Meyer production.

I am currently in the New York area for the next few months,

but will return to Hollywood for a similar position."

Maybe he'll take me with him... if I get in a similar position.

"If you are in the New York area" -

I have a dirty mind these days, I don't know what happens to me.

I think that something happened to me since I became a redhead - I got more torrid.

Uh... do you like the color of my hair?

Well, I think the atmosphere of Andy's studio in the early 70's

was a big departure from the Silver Factory.

It was considered by some more formal.

So there was this time, I think '70 to '73, um, when the 60's were over,

but the 70's hadn't started.

And that's when this surge of Hollywood nostalgia came in, and Candy was right in there,

somewhere between the past and the future.

There was really something there.

There was really something about to be... really like Marilyn, it was there.

It needed urging, and bringing out,

and being in love with by the person on the other side of the camera.

And being adored, and being allowed.

That's the biggest verb in anyone's life, is to be allowed, to be yourself.

Candy fit in perfectly.

Because she was like a real

movie star from MGM or something, at the time

only in a world that was filled with LSD.

And speed, really. Speed.

There was a concerted effort to have a stable of stars.

I mean, Andy collected film stills, framed, of various movie stars,

there was a studio that started evolving.

And Jackie, and Candy, and Holly Woodlawn, those were the three pre-eminent ladies,

in quotes, if you want to say, but those were the three, you know, stars.

And Jackie would give you an hour of, a philosophical hour of something,

you know, and Holly'd just, you know, swig something and say "Motherfucker",

and Candy'd just give you that look: the "I'm too grand to sink to your level" look.

They lived from hand to mouth, they moved in with friends,

they would come to the office once in a while, drop in to use the phone,

'cause they didn't have phones. They couldn't have phones, didn't pay phone bills.

Candy could come up and just hang around there, and look through scrapbooks.

Or, you know, wait for Andy to come, when he was done shopping, and say

"I want to talk to you about something,"

and maybe she'd have an idea for a way to get money out of him, or an idea for a movie,

and, you know, he'd be glad to see her.

I remember when she came up with Jeremiah Newton, as a young kid,

you know, I think we were always trying to figure out what was going on there,

and Andy liked to ponder these kinds of things, so it was interesting.

Andy never was afraid of Candy.

Andy never, never thought that Candy would turn on him.

Andy never had to be locked up in the editing room because of Candy.

He did because of Jackie, and Holly, when they would completely freak out,

and demand money, and be screaming and shouting and pounding on the door.

You attract a lot of those people up at the Factory, though, in your films?

What? Closet queens?

Not closet queens, drag queens.

Drag queens... well, the people we use aren't really drag queens,

because drag queens are people who just sort of dress up, for, uh, you know,

8 hours a day or something like that.

And the kind of people we really use are people who think they, uh,

are really girls and stuff, so that's sort of different.

Pre-op, post-op, transvestite, drag queen,

transvestite that's straight and fucks women, transvestite that's gay and fucks men,

daytime drag queens, the, the, the classifications go on and on and on.

And Candy was not a transvestite. Candy was a transsexual.

She wanted to be a woman.

She didn't want to be called "he"; she wanted to be called "she", because she was a she.

She was a beautiful, female goddess.

Candy Darling, what is a goddess?

A goddess is someone that's worshipped from afar.

And a star is someone that has an unknown quality.

A transgender person, uh, the medical profession call them transsexuals,

perceive themselves as women.

They either want to be a woman, or they already perceive themselves as a woman,

and they were gypped by having a male's body,

so what you do, you take hormones. Candy took hormones.

She took hormones in order to make her body fit what was in her brain.

The doctor told me that, um, the pills she was taking,

which was the cancerous pills, did nothing for her.

And I threw them down the toilet bowl.

They were big, black pills, shaped like an eye, like sort of, um, almond shaped.

And they sat in that toilet and looked at me, so help me God,

they just sat, they wouldn't dissolve, they just sat there.

And she said "Put your hand in the toilet and get the pills out,"

and I said "I'm not doing that."

And when you get to a point where you're doing the hormones,

and you're looking good, and you can pass in the streets, you're like, you can breathe.

You're like, no one's yelling "faggot" at me anymore. No one's calling me a man.

Someone's saying, (cat whistle)"Baby, you want a date?"

And that's a big, hunky straight man talking. And Candy loved that.

She was really cool looking, I'll tell you.

You didn't care if it was a guy.

As a girlfriend, Candy was totally feminine.

I never thought of Candy as a man, I never had any sense of a man there with me.

It was always a woman.

One time she suggested we get together and wash each other's hair,

and I thought "I wash my hair in the shower; I don't think I'm ready for that!"

"She's About a Mover" by Doug Sham * Whoa, she was walking down the street

looking fine as she could be?

It's a little bit over the top.

Although, Candy kept it, but there were times, sometimes, you could see, it was a little...

the reactions, the movements, you know,

"oh yes", that kind of thing, even the voice,

the serenity of the voice - you know, women don't speak like that all the time.

* Hey, hey, She's About a Mover, (mover)

She's About a Mover She's about a Mover *

A real woman doesn't think about it. You know, I mean, it's not a goal.

So there's not all that intention. And there's not all that desire.

And real women know all the, also, bad things there are about being a woman.

Candy loved it. She attracted so many men.

She dated, uh... she tended to date, uh...

She never was with anybody. Not that I know of.

...European nobility. Minor nobility.

I...she never discussed any of that with me.

I don't know anything about any of that.

She would borrow my clothes, when she was living with me in Queens,

and she would go off in my clothes...

Maybe she talked to other people about it. But me, she would just sort of -

and then come back the next day, and they would be ripped, shredded,

I would say "well obviously your date didn't go, you know",

and she would say, "he wanted me to put out!"

* Yeah, baby what'd I say

She was engaged to an Italian count. He was gorgeous.

And I know she was in love with Gerard Malanga.

I'm flattered. I didn't know that.

And I would tell her, I said, you know, honey,

eventually you're going to have to come out, you know, and be honest,

and say hello, you know, this, in here, down here, whatever, you know,

is not what you... you know... and you either love me for me,

and this is the icing, or, you know... Keep on looking, Candy.

I am not a genuine woman.

But I am not interested in genuineness.

I am interested in the product of being a woman, and how qualified I am.

He called me beautiful. I am!

You are. Just... just beautiful. Come on.

They all had to say I was beautiful.

Prettier than she is.

She was at the Italian Consulate,

and she came down the stairs into the ballroom.

People stopped, dead, she looked that good.

And she said to me afterwards, she said, "You know, all these men love me,

but if they knew, they would kill me."

I have always found that socially unacceptable people

make the best lovers because they are more sensitive.

Sandy spoke to me on the phone today and suggested a sex change.

Tricky Mother Nature.

She realized that, uh, she wouldn't be Candy Darling any more.

She had seen other people who had sex changes, and they weren't fabulous,

they were like normal women.

I showed some pictures to Steven of how I used to look.

There was a picture of me about 8 years old. I was so beautiful and real.

It had a very sobering effect on me.

There's a tremendous earnestness in wanting to be another gender.

I mean, what's more earnest than that? And naive?

I mean, I think it's tremendously naive. Especially a man who wants to be a woman.

You know, I mean: Keep your winning hand.

I've been up all night, alone, wondering about my identity,

trying to look for an explanation for living this strange, stylized sexuality.

Realization cuts feeling off.

I try to explain my identity as being a male who has assumed the attitudes,

and somewhat the emotions, of a female. I don't know which role to play.

A 25 year old man, who becomes a 25 year old woman,

is not a woman at all, because a woman first has to be a little girl,

okay, a man first has to be a boy. Candy was never a girl.

Candy was a fantasy. She created herself.

If you called Candy a "he", it was a flinch. Like with me,

if I hear "he", it's a flinch. It's like someone slapping you in the face.

You have to accept a transgender person's perception of what they are,

or you are disrespecting their gender, and that is really wrong.

And to those people that want to call Candy a "he", you are transphobe,

and you shut your mouth.

I mean, we were very happy when we were in the play that we did last summer,

called "Vain Victory".

Oh, we had our, you know, tiffs.

Oh yes, but even that was fun, it was exciting, you know,

we were always appearing in front of people, and getting a lot of applause.

I mean, I love the sound of applause.

I mean, I suppose these days, you're not supposed to like those things, you know,

you're supposed to be very humble and like the earth, and all that. And we do.

You know, actually, I'm very athletic, which nobody ever seems to realize,

because, I mean, I would love to go camping sometime, but, I mean,

my friends never ask me, because they just, uh,

probably always think of me as the salon type!

* da,da,da,da,da,da,da,da

* "Oh, Flo, such a shame you know, When she left the Village she was shy,

But alas and alack, she's come back, With a naughty little twinkle in her eye."*

It was the first Off-off-Broadway show to rehearse for six months,

as opposed to a week, and it ran for six months,

which is the first time an Off-off-Broadway show had run for longer than two weeks.

So we were successful in that way.

And everybody came to see us, either in rehearsals, or when it actually opened.

I mean, even Andy Warhol showed up for opening night.

Candy was the real star of the show.

* My place tonight fellas, my place tonight fellas...

Who is that lucky boy *

"Vain Victory" was a living piece of theater.

There was a structure and a story, but it kept evolving.

This is all I could find, it's done by Bob Gruen,

who was John and Yoko's official photographer,

and this was taken at LaMaMa's rehearsal loft, on Great Jones Street.

We have Ondine, who's in heaven, Candy, who's in heaven,

Jackie Curtis, who is in heaven,

and then we have Dorian Gray, who is in heaven, and then there's "moi".

Many playwrights were doing so many kinds of things, there was no wrong,

you were expressing yourself.

We lived very hard.

We lived 24 hours a day. I mean, we were all on speed.

Candy would say "oh, our tits are flying now! Let's go!"

I think that it was probably an outlet for transvestites as well,

because, well, it was the Village, a lot of it was happening in the Village,

and there was such a lack of discrimination on every level

that everybody had a chance to develop without society's judgment on them.

Pacino was in that basement, and Jill Clayburgh, and DeNiro, of course, and a lot of people.

She was totally accepted there. That's what saved her, really.

And she could get right into the fantasy world, you know, of the avant-garde,

because the plays were above reality.

A story so touching, it must be told with a whip.

A love tale of vicious simplicity, involving two pyromaniacs,

freaked out over a couple of flip-out hairdressers,

who chained them to a beige hairdryer,

to match the lithograph of the Maltese Vertebrae.

It's a very difficult thing to make someone believe your fantasy.

And Candy did that.

I was always looking for something that was different, that was theatrical.

And I thought she would be great, theatrical, in a nightclub act, to do a show.

So I had several meetings at my office, just with Candy Darling.

Now I'd never seen her sing. But I didn't care.

Because I know that she would have been good, and even if she wasn't good,

she'd be interesting enough just to sit and talk about her life.

And I could have staged her in such a way, you know, with

black, with very white, hot light...

She was witty, funny, smart, beautiful,

and had a certain cachet as being revolutionary, just by how she lived her life,

especially at that time. She was one of the front-runners of that.

The other ones were freakish, and she was beautiful, in a way that really put people off,

and drew them to her at the same time, because it confused them.

You could say "well, she was an actress every second of her life."

You know, that's what you would call it now, you know, but then you might say

"she was phony every second of her life."

I never went that far with Candy Darling,

with really getting her out there to do something with her, because...

I don't know what stopped us. Maybe Andy stopped it.

Maybe Andy wanted to get too involved. Would have been an amazing thing.

Because I think it would have been big in Europe.

Paris, and Germany - and forget about America.

You do a couple of cities here, and that's about it.

If we still had French Symbolist poets, they'd all have written poems about her.

She was just somebody who was kind of this figure, floating through all kinds of scenes.

Visually, photographically, and conversationally,

she was every time a coconut. Everything was interesting.

You know, they gave me a 75 dollar hairdo. Can you believe it?

I didn't pay for it. I can see it now, in the light, what they did.

Was it good? Was it worth it?

Oh God, no... I wouldn't even pay for it.

I never pay for anything. I never have. I don't have to.

I never pay for a thing, I never pay rent, I never buy my own clothes,

I don't pay for anything. I put it all in the bank...

The reality... she wouldn't deal with it.

You're only the star of an Andy Warhol movie, and as we all know, Andy Warhol,

well, we're not talking MGM here, you get $25 a scene for Andy Warhol,

everything else is, you know, your next meal is coming from

hopefully being invited to a party, you know:

you meet rich people, and they take you out to dinner, and then,

the next morning, you're eating what's left over from the dinner from the night before.

Do you think I like eating bean soup and peanut butter

for strength and protein, instead of steak? Well I don't like it.

Do you think I like this mop of goldish-red hair, instead of the darkest ash blonde,

with tan pearl streaks? Well, I don't like it.

And I don't like wet cakes, and day-old bread, either.

And I'm tired of going to beauty culture schools for a permanent. I'm just tired.

She always had this glamorous aura about her,

but she was always sleeping on somebody's couch.

I had a studio apartment then, too, with red walls, I remember,

and I would go to work in the morning, and she'd be sleeping,

and I'd come home at six, seven o'clock, and she'd still be just getting out of bed,

in a black slip.

And I used to get very annoyed, I'd say, "Look at this.

How does she get away with that?"

She managed to convince her mother, and a number of her friends,

that she needed to devote her entire life to trying to become a movie star.

So she didn't even have to get a job.

I would say that Candy is probably one of the greatest hustlers I have ever known.

As a hustler, Candy was an ace.

I think Candy, in order to survive - she was a survivor

- would go and do a lot of things that she didn't talk about.

No. She never did that. No, I'm telling you, they're wrong.

She didn't do that. She didn't have to do that.

Too many people loved giving her money because she was so fabulous.

I know, she hated it.

I now live at 14 West 68th Street, with Sam Green, who took me in.

I will live here until, God forbid, he throws me out.

Not that he will, and even if something did happen, I could always go to Jeremiah.

It is now November 24th, about 4 a.m.

Today is my birthday, and I am happy. Jeremiah is such a dear.

He called and wants to have a party for me. I hope we are friends forever.

I had a birthday party for her, um,

it was fantastic, we invited tons and tons of people.

Dear Kathy, it is Wednesday morning, December 16th, 1970, 5:30 a.m.

I got up a little while ago. There is a storm outside. The wind is very scary.

Candy moved in with me, this is where I had her famous birthday party

- can I go in with you? I used to live here. I lived here in 1969.

The party was a great success. Candy was fabulous.

Everyone was fabulous.

I had balloons up, and streamers, and somebody gave Candy a 1923 box of Kotex,

all sorts of really crazy things.

There was a lot of grass.

It's a good thing you did not come to the party. I'm glad you didn't.

First of all, these unexpected people showed up

and left a boy there who was mentally retarded.

Every time I moved, he would sit right next to me.

And there was a boy, who looked perfectly normal,

except he wasn't, he was retarded.

And he adored Candy, he sat at her feet, and he just adored, he said

"You're so beautiful, you're so beautiful."

And she said "Yes, I know, I know."

Jeremiah said "Do you want to sit down in the next room?"

knowing he was cuckoo. And the boy said "No.

I want to sit right here, next to her."

And every time I looked at him, he looked away in shyness. Well, nobody knew what to do.

But Jeremiah took the boy's wallet, and found his name and address in Connecticut,

and called his parents at 2 a.m.

He had been missing for two weeks. I was not surprised!

At about six-thirty, a very normal looking man with two sons appeared at the door

and was very appreciative.

There were tears in the eyes. It was very touching.

And Jeremiah even refused the $20 the father pressed into his hand in gratitude.

That should give you a clue as to Jeremiah's character.

I do hope the man didn't hear me whispering "Keep it, we need it."

Oh, I see: "Politically Involved Girls".

I don't suppose you've heard about women's liberation.

Women's liberation has shown me just who I am and just what I can be!

I can't stand the sight of men.

And if I can't make it with men, then I'll make it with women.

This is absurd.

*

I think in Women in Revolt, she's just charming, and lovely,

and funny, and, uh, she's a true star. She's a real movie star.

I don't think there's anything that ironic about her.

I think Candy, certainly, uh, you saw something totally wonderful

and likable and good. Enormous identity. Enormous distinction she had:

not just her beautiful appearance, but the attitude and the tone of voice,

and the hard work that went into doing what it was she did.

We're going to invite the chic-est, richest,

prettiest, youngest people

- PIG'S - in Manhattan.

I think Women in Revolt is one of the best Warhol movies.

I think it was originally called P.I.G.S, "Politically Involved Girls",

and I think it was Paul making fun of feminism, but in a weird way,

it is a feminist movie. It's a real feminist movie,

that comes across, I think, very well, politically.

When the women's movement started in New York,

they published this manifesto saying Candy Darling was a threat to women everywhere,

and she should be destroyed.

And Candy thought that it was very funny, but she was scared.

She said "Those bitter lesbians..."

I just remember at the opening,

we had the "WOMEN IN REVOLT" up on the marquee, you know,

the typeface that we had picked out.

It was known as a porn house, and Candy worked the line of the people coming to the premiere,

you know, doing her number down perfectly.

And thinking it was a porn movie, "Women in Revolt", these guys would be walking in,

"hey, we're gonna see something," and it's not what they expected.

What are you, anyways, a he or a she?

I'm young. I wanna be loved.

You've been loved, and you've been loved by me, your own brother.

There's nothing like mass love. My psychiatrist says I need mass love.

The incest... Incest, lesbianism...

Incest, lesbianism: I'm ready for Hollywood, right, Johnny?

We did get an invitation to the first Los Angeles film festival,

with "Women in Revolt", in, I think, '71 or '72, I'm not sure.

So we took Candy - not Jackie and not Holly -

it was obvious that Candy wanted to go to Hollywood, and I sat next to Candy,

in sort of a back row, and at some point she turned to me, and she said,

"You know, Paul, I can't believe what I'm seeing.

I'm here in Hollywood, in Grauman's Chinese Theater, watching myself in a movie,

and the audience is clapping and liking the movie so much."

She said "This is unbelievable to me."

That this dream of hers, to have, uh, to be in a movie, to come to Hollywood,

uh, it was unreal.

Andy Warhol

All I can tell you is, don't get involved with drag queens. It's trouble.

Truman Capote

Candy Darling would make a great mistake

to have that sex change operation.

Oh, she doesn't want one.

You should really write a play for Candy.

She's really a great actress, and there's no chance of her even going anywhere

unless someone important writes something for her.

Tennessee should write a play for her.

She has a certain vulnerability about her that doesn't have anything to do with

whether she's pretty, or not pretty: She has an aura.

We could line up 300 girls who are prettier than Candy in every way,

but they just don't have any aura.

It was Tennessee Williams who finally decided to champion her.

She was so excited about being in Tennessee Williams' play.

She was so happy. I never saw her so happy in my life.

Tennessee Williams didn't suffer fools. I mean, maybe if they were a cute guy.

But they weren't sleeping together. He liked her, plain and simple.

I saw "Small Craft Warnings" and I loved it.

It was at a small theater uptown, and Candy was just heaven, you know.

And it was like, my wonderful acting teacher, Herbert Bergdorf,

said he wants to see an actor go on stage right out of real life, and just continue.

[ROBERT HEIDE]: Candy, uh, after the performance, came out in a white chinchilla coat,

and a big hat, and looked like a Ziegfeld girl.

Walked down the street with Tennessee in his cream-colored Southern suit,

and little hat, and all eyes turned.

It was her first chance to get away from just doing the Warhol stuff.

She was beginning to believe that she, you know, could do a lot of other things.

Did you have any difficulties with Candy playing Violet at all?

How did you feel that Candy related to the other people in the play?

I remember. It was all cluttered and full of junk.

Here Candy gets dangled her dream, which, how could it ever happen?

How could it ever happen that her dream was coming true?

She was with Tennessee Williams.

Tennessee?

Yes, darling? (laughter, conversation)

Thank you for having me in the play. It's wonderful.

And then, all of a sudden, it turned out to be this ephemeral thing.

And the carnival had moved on.

Saturday morning. Four a.m. I have no one. Everyone has left me.

I am alone here tonight, in room 1005 at the Diplomat Hotel.

I was not meant for this world. I don't know.

All I know is, I love, and I am not loved. I do not know happiness.

I know despair, loneliness, and longing.

My biggest problem is I have no man to love me.

So nothing else matters, or makes much of a difference.

"CANDY SAYS" by Lou Reed. * Candy says,

I've come to hate my body,

and all that it requires, in this world.

Candy says,

I'd like to know completely,

what others so discreetly talk about.

I'm going to watch the bluebirds fly,

over my shoulder,

I'm going to watch them pass me by.

Maybe when I'm older

What do you think I'd see,

if I could walk away from me *

Could you pick this up here, and let me see how deep that is?

That's three feet, that's not... that doesn't seem very deep, does it?

I'll be worried that somebody will dig them up.

You know, some fan will come and, you know...

I'm worried that she's not really protected, and that it's not deep enough.

Yeah, hi, this is Jeremiah Newton again.

I just wanted to ask you something.

The funeral is tomorrow, and I'd like them a little deeper.

Yeah, but I really want it a little deeper. I'll dig it myself, you know.

I want to make sure she's OK, if there's a flood or something? I'm just worried about that.

Well, I don't think she expected to die. Or trust me with her legacy.

I just, I thought I stepped up to the plate, because nobody else was going to do it.

I started doing audio interviews with everyone I could,

and I interviewed everyone from Tennessee Williams to Candy's parents.

And I wanted to know more about her through these interviews.

I would play them, and listen to the words.

I stayed in touch with the mother and, uh, we wrote back and forth.

She told me she had remarried.

She married a man who was very, very anti-gay. He hated homosexuals.

He had no idea that there was another child that was now dead,

and if I visit her, promise, don't say anything to anybody.

Well, her husband was away out of town, so I got on the bus -

it was like a 4 or 5 hour bus ride - and the mother met me,

and we really talked about Candy, and her papers and possessions.

Which the mother said, "Go through everything, and take what you want,

and leave the rest, and I'll send them to you next week."

I took as much as I could carry.

* Getting on the bus, the mother gave me her son's ashes, and said

"Take this back to New York, Candy always wanted to be with you."

I never saw the mother again.

And I asked for the rest of the papers and costumes,

and she said that they were all destroyed. She'd burnt them all.

She didn't want her husband to know anything. She was so ashamed of her son.

Candy said, "Jeremiah, you must never leave things behind.

Keep everything, don't lose everything.

If you don't want it, you can keep it at my mother's house.

Don't ever give anything up." She was right.

The Sixties were over everywhere.

Andy wouldn't have continued on in the Sixties mentality

any more than the rest of the world did, least of all Andy.

There was a whole turning point. It was the beginning of yuppies.

I think the baby boom generation turned its focus very much towards hedonism,

consumerism, materialism, and Andy, and "Interview",

and certainly Paul Morrissey, Fred Hughes, they were all,

we were all part of that wave, we weren't resisting that at all.

We were out there trying to sell ads for "Interview" and sell portraits to rich people,

so that "Interview" could exist, actually.

She really believed that Andy was going to take care of her

like Louis B. Mayer. He just wasn't.

And he got kind of - Andy would get tired of people,

and sort of toss them away like Kleenex.

And they already made a movie without her. They made "Heat".

And they didn't even invite her to the opening of it.

'Cause at that time, Andy said "Oh, I don't want to use chicks with dicks anymore,

I want to use real women, that's what Hollywood wants."

So they started making other movies.

She was very unhappy about it. She was very, very unhappy about it.

She didn't like it at all. She didn't know what to do.

One: a beautiful big house in Long Island, and one in California.

Two: Learn languages and sew.

Three: Cabin on Lake Winnipesaukee.

Rug for my room, color TV, fall new clothes, white backless shoes,

hormone treatment, electrolysis.

Dog. Fur coat. Car. New house.

Well, sometime in the future, I may hope to be married.

I mean, I know it might sound ridiculous to my friends, but -

No, it doesn't sound ridiculous.

It doesn't? Oh -

We're with you, behind you, all the way.

Well, um, I mean...

I've already made myself happy.

I mean, because I am in film, and, um, well, there's nothing quite like it.

I feel like I'm living in a prison.

There are so many things I may not experience.

I cannot go swimming, can't visit relatives,

can't get a job, can't have a boyfriend.

I see so much of life I cannot have. I am living in a veritable prison.

What? Are you kidding?

What did I do to you? Well, where will I go?

Okay... Thank you very much for making me wish I were dead.

She said "Put your hand on my tummy," and I put my hand on her tummy,

and it was swollen. Like, you know...

and I said "Whoa, what is this?" She said "I'm pregnant.

God has answered my prayers."

Then she said she was going to the doctors.

And they examined her, and they told her she had a tumor, a huge tumor inside of her.

I didn't believe it. I thought she was making it up.

I was at work, and she called me, and she, "I have a tumor."

I, "Oh come on: a tumor?"

The word "cancer" was never mentioned.

So, uh, off she went into the hospital.

She said more than once, like she was acting in a Susan Hayward movie,

"I don't want to die! I don't want to die!"

But she was saying it in a very, kind of, uh, the way Candy would say it,

as if she was, uh, making fun of, a little bit, Susan Hayward, saying it.

I had the secret feeling that she was enjoying it.

It was another role for her to play.

She was going to play it because she believed it.

And she believed it, this time, because it was true.

Jean Harlow, Marilyn Monroe, they all died young, blonde, and beautiful.

Candy, in a way, wanted to go that route.

Candy had to be what she was.

She, she had to be what she was; she couldn't have been anything else.

And then it was her time to go, and she could die thinking,

"Well, I lived my life the way I thought, and I lived my life the way I felt it."

I went with him when he went up to take that picture.

She asked him to come up and take that picture.

I was kind of horrified at the idea. I said to Peter, "She's dying, she's sick.

Why would she want her picture taken?"

And she loved that picture, and she really made a big effort to look like that,

because she already looked very unwell. She was extremely sick

when that photograph was taken.

I will not cease to be myself for foolish people.

For foolish people make harsh judgments on me.

You must always be yourself, no matter what the price.

It is the highest form of morality.

* " Candy Says" by Lou Reed

* Candy says I've come to hate my body,

and all that it requires in this world

Candy says I'd like to know completely,

what others so discreetly talking about

I'm gonna watch the blue bird fly over my shoulder,

I'm gonna watch him pass me by

Maybe when I'm older

What do you think I'd see, If I could walk away from me

Candy says I hate the quiet places,

that cause the smallest taste of what will be

Candy says I hate the big decisions

that cause endless revisions in my mind

That's why I'm doing fine

Oh, I'm gonna watch the blue bird fly over my shoulder,

I'm gonna watch it pass me by

when I'm older.

What do you think I'd see, if I could walk away from me

Oh, I'm gonna watch the blue bird fly over my shoulder,

I'm gonna watch it pass me by

when I'm older

What do you think I'd see, if I could walk away from me?

To whom it may concern: By the time you read this, I will be gone.

Unfortunately, before my death, I had no desire left for life.

Even with all my friends, and my career on the upswing,

I felt too empty to go on in this unreal existence.

I have arranged my own funeral, with a guest list, and it is paid for.

I would like to say goodbye to Jackie Curtis: I think you're fabulous.

Holly, Sam Green, a true friend and noble person.

Ron Link, I'll never forget you. Andy Warhol: what can I say.

Paul Morrissey, you know I loved you. Andy, you too.

Jeremiah, don't take it too badly. Just remember what a bitch I was.

I guess you saw it coming. I'm better off now.

Did you know I couldn't last? I always knew it.

I wish I could meet you all again. Goodbye for now,

love always, Candy Darling.