It isn't all that great, actually. Really cheesy and very predicable of how certain scenes are gonna turn play out. However, I guess that's the charm of it all, because I would consider this one of my guilty pleasures.

Each character in this movie — down to the smallest one — is an individual rather than a type, prone to spontaneous changes of mood and sometimes amusing outbursts of pettiness or ill humor.

All of these films share one commonality, that being a kind of emotional center that humanizes a cast of monsters.

The movie is wonderful and true, an act of love in all its contradictions and complexity

A heap of human flesh lies asleep on a red pillow. This is the hunk of naked meat that is "Little Joe", a New York hustler who lives with his bisexual wife and baby child. The film follows a day in his life, after he's woken from sleep by his wife demanding that he go out and do the traditional male thing - be a breadwinner. But the use she wants to put the bread to is to pay for her new girlfriend's abortion. We certainly aren't in the traditional family unit here...After playing with his child, Joe hits the streets to cruise for johns. The clients come thick and fast: the ordinary gay man who wants to meet him again because they "work well together", the old English classical scholar who pays $100 to see Joe pose like an ancient Greek athlete; the female topless dancer who blows Joe then boasts about being raped; the ageing gym bunny who doesn't think that what he and Joe do together is queer. After a hard day's work, Joe returns home exhausted, only to be put down by his wife and the girlfriend. He goes back to sleep as they harp and undermine him.Flesh is fascinating as it takes what is a traditional classical mainstream structure - it has an inciting incident (the money for the abortion) and set-up, a confrontation and a resolution (albeit a very downbeat one), even a protagonist with a strongly motivated goal, and then proceeds to concentrate on the details of the day to day routine of these people who are perfectly ordinary to themselves but extraordinary to most "mainstream" people. It all seems very authentic and natural - it's hard to see the acting, the actors are so fully being their roles - but yet the whole thing is a piece of cunning artifice - a beautifully drawn portrait or an intricately carved statue. Director Morrissey carefully plants every incident, every encounter around his theme of human flesh become packaged commodity but with such cunning slight of hand that you almost don't notice him doing it. The wife "packages" Joe's sexual organ, the old Englishmen laments a long gone order of classical beauty which created art and poetry from human fleshly beauty, the transvestite friends of the stripper package themselves as women whilst reading a Hollywood magazine in which "real" women are packaged as products; the gym bunny buys Joe's friendship and affection, thinks artificial porn is real and can't tell, as we can't, that Joe is performing his friendship and intimacy for the cash. The film itself presents itself as the ne plus ultra of cinematic realism but what we might as well be dealing with here is fine art or an early example of concept art.The genius - a word not lightly used - of Morrissey was to find a way of taking Warhol's arty pretensions to film-making, which were interesting sure but boring as hell, and making them into saleable products which remain amongst the most intriguing works of cinema art ever made - commercial cans labelled "Flesh" and "Trash" and "Heat" with a product label - "Andy Warhol" - which sells an idea about the product as much as the product itself. Yet just as you reel from Morrissey's cynicism, you are spellbound by his ability to still maintain the highest of standards and depth of meaning. The constant what seem like camera flashes continually draw attention to the filmic nature of what one is witnessing, yet you get drawn into the illusion all the same - Flesh is surely one of the most extraordinary pieces of cinema magic to ever spellbind an audience.

One of the most sublime of American masterpieces, Morrissey opens the film by sexualizing Dallesandro, with his open mouth snoring on a pillow. We wonder, is he coming off a heroin high? We just see his face, then, flash, his body, flash, his naked rear. I can't think of another film that used this flash-blip form of editing so well to create a hypnotic, druggy mood, an editing method that works wonderfully as both pacing and style. After that introduction, when Dallesandro opens his mouth, his accent is jarring -- we expect him to be some kind of soft-spoken androgyne; instead, he's got the voice of a street thug -- Morrissey isn't comfortable letting our assumptions go unchecked. The lengthy opening is very sexy and playful -- it's a combination of martial troubles, Dallesandro's fascinating lip-rubbing kisses, and early morning sexual escapades; it all kind of flows together, if not always smoothly, then emotionally realistically.What I got from this was the same as what I got from "The 400 Blows" when I first saw it -- this is like a 20-something continuation of that story. There's a sense of camaraderie between the flesh sellers and the buyers; when Dallesandro walks the street looking for men (to fund his wife's abortion) there's the feeling of a secret handshake as boys make deals with each other. I never found it boring, though nothing happens -- nothing happens brilliantly, the boys hanging around, as they do, waiting for tricks. The main trick that Dallesandro finds is fascinating to watch, using Greek descriptions and only touching his back, a form of aesthetic body worship on the man's part. It's also dreadfully funny ("I'm not talking to an empty bed, am I?"). It's one of the most revealing scenes in the movie -- in any movie, I think; certainly any movie dealing with sex and sex for sale. When Dallesandro's eyes seem red and swollen, we can't tell if it's because he's drunk, ashamed, embarrassed, or all.The conversations in the film are cut-up -- they don't matter. (The film is silent in a few scenes, some of the most poignant and beautiful you may ever experience.) Yet when Morrissey chooses to include one, the way he includes it (we sort of piece it together), it's startling, such as one conversation between Dallesandro and a newbie hustler -- and neither of them ever mentioning the word "gay" or "hustler." What follows is a scene where we listen to a pair of transvestites as Dallesandro gets serviced -- this just after explaining to the newbie "getting used" to the job.Dallesandro is a subject worthy of the attention paid to him, both by his clients and Morrissey. He's less than effective as an actor, in the sense of acting as performing, but as far as revealing something he's incredible -- he's someone we immediately want to feel above, yet we go through his experiences, with all their complexities, and we're forced to try and know him. He's the kind of blank slate that we're drawn to but can't get a hold on. And of course he's incredibly striking -- forgetting everything else, this is partially a testament to the beauty of the male body, Dallesandro's gorgeous torso and permanently erect nipples.The movie has one devastating scene, but like everything else you can't really master it -- a girl says that she's been raped, and her only self-defense is in saying that, had the rapist only asked for sex, wooed her, he would have gotten a better lay. It's shattering. The movie has feeling for everyone, but even better than that, it's not merely sympathetic, it actually attempts to help us understand human beings -- and without ever dictating what it is we're meant to be understanding. It neither looks down on nor glamorizes the people within the film. It feels inclusive when we see Joe's arm around a transvestite. When he reads a letter (he talks about not getting past grade eight at one point), he's utterly charming, as he pauses on a word...then says, "woteva," and continues.You can learn something more profound from the interaction between Dallesandro and one of his clients in terms of gay-straight relationships than you can from any case study. Here we have the young boy who smiles (his top lip disappears as he does so) when a 30-something gym bunny Korean war veteran runs his fingers through his hair; it's a scene that feels very profound, this adult man sharing something with a younger version of himself -- it's not two gay men together, or a gay man paying a straight man, it's something else you can't put your finger on; questions of sexuality are beside the point. (Never before has popping a pimple seemed as affectionate.) After sharing something with each other emotionally (though with Dallesandro, since he's there for money, it's never apparent why he's there; though he's never less than sincere, which may be his most disarming quality), "So...can you help me out?" The man says sure. "I don't mean my pants!" 10/10

The opening static shot of Joe sleeping, for a full 4 minuets was very reminiscent of Earlier work done by Morrissey's Quasi-partner, Warhol on the movie Sleep, which is a static shot of some guy sleeping for 6 hours. But Unlike Warhol's work, Paul Morrissey put the narrative into the Warhol aesthetic principals,by giving the actors more substance to each scene, and then moving around the camera, and following the actors actions more closely with a omnipresent eye that doesn't inhibit the actors in sometimes highly improvised situations. (unlike in Warhol's work actors/actresses were aware of the camera at all times and didn't allow them to lose themselves in the moment on screen).Yes there is allot of Improvisation in this film which is what gives it the feeling of watching something that is real. The movie was not scripted, before every scene Paul Morrissey told each actor what he wanted from each scene and the actors were left to their own devices improvising dialogue and advancing the narrative. Choosing the subject of Hustling for a living, selling your self for money, and pairing it with an actor that knows about the lifestyle is what really gave Joe the opportunity to make the character believable. In fact after the movie was shown around the world, people actually thought Joe was Like that in real life, Just like in TRASH, everyone really thought Joe was a junkie. One good scene has Joe picked up by an older gentleman who wants Joe only to pose for some artwork. Joe tells him he wants to earn 100 bucks, (to pay for his wife's girlfriend's abortion) "one hundred dollars!, you'll have to take off all your clothes for that" the old man tells him. The old man is in fact hiding his homosexuality, Pretending to be an artist. Back at his place He tells Joe to take off his clothes, saying that that is the hardest part for anyone to do when posing for art. But Joe's not shy, He takes off all his clothing and starts posing in various olympiadic poses,. While the old man rants on about the different artworks in contemporary society, the aesthetic of greek statues, philosophizing on the beauty of human skin, and how people are obsessed with it, It's too much for Joe, Joe interrupts him asking him for the dinner he promised him. The aesthete's rationalization is paralleled by Joe's last customer of the day, Louis Waldon playing a guy Joe knows from the gym. He pretends that their sex is for the friendlier motive than the money Joe always requests and that despite their sex, "we're not queers." The pretense to friendship is undermined when the customer shifts from the passive suggestions to brusquely ordering Joe about. The client's delusions show his need for purity in a relationship-such as glimpsed in Joe's scene with the baby, where he is nude on the floor feeding the baby bits of muffin. Only with the baby is Joe shown in a relationship were he is not a commodity. Joe runs into some other hustlers on the street, younger ones who sorta look at Joe with respect, because he's the more experienced Hustler, and they being ones who want to learn more. One of the boys asks him if he's straight Joe say's "Hey nobody's straight. What's straight? It's not a thing of being straight or being not straight. It's just...you just do whatever you have to do", and about the johns, he only says "they only wanna suck your peetta!" In another memorable scene With Geri Miller, Candy Darling, Jackie Curtis, and Joe. Morrissey pans from, Candy and Jackie (transvestites in real life) sitting down on a couch reading from an old Hollywood magazine > The trannie's quote stuff from the magazine and then Geri's goes into her dramatic story of her rape, meanwhile Joe (emotionless) listens to it all. Later Geri does a topless dance at Joe's request but he ignores her. The film ends like it begins, but with a difference.Again Joe is Naked on his belly on the bed. Reversing the opening order, the full-length view is followed by the profile close-up. But now Joe is no longer alone. His wife is asleep beside him, but between them lies her new lover, the women's legs ardently intertwined. We see him in the relationship from which he is excluded. Joe's naked solitude is redefined as an alienation within a relationship. The film went on to gross over $2,000,000 dollars, making it a very profitable, considering it was done on a budget of only $1,500. It was banned from England for a while, and in Germany 3,000,000 people saw it making it one of the top movies in Germany in that year. It was the first underground film that was accepted on a wide scale basis, and made Joe a very well known person all over the world.

Flesh is the first film of a trilogy by Paul Morrissey and Andy Warhol, and is perhaps the first attempt to create an icon of desire out of a male leading role. Although the film is focused on an uncomplicated character development of Joe (Joe Dallesandro), a gentle and subtly unhappy hustler, it depicts him as a passive and ambivalent object, who, in spite of a semi-evident sense of self-control, is possessed, shaped, and evaluated entirely by others. Joe is a young and somewhat naive Adonis who exudes comfort and beauty in his independence, but he works the streets to support his lesbian wife and her girlfriend. He is restlessly bored by an artist/customer's speeches on Greek athletic sculpture and 'body worship', but he sells his nudity anyway. He regards the increasing advances of his homosexual friend with ambivalence, but lets them happen nonetheless. This passivity dominates the film and succeeds in creating a visceral element to Dallesandro's appeal: not only is he desired, he is had.Perhaps the film's most interesting element is the balance of its obviously experimental nature with its palpable directness. The snappy editing and fragmented dialogue make it fresh and 'real', yet it manages not to rely on the clichéd abstractness of art-films. It is rough, and indeed a weaker effort than Trash or Heat, but nonetheless presents a collection of perfectly plausible characters in a light of almost absolute neutrality.