Shot in beautiful black and white by the elusive Bruce Weber, we follow the saint of the jazz scene through his biggest fears and most elaborate dreams.
London swings, and boy, was that pendulum swingin’ in the late ’50s. This was the time to be a young cat or kitten, prowling the dives, lookin’ for fresh kicks.
Flesh, the first of a trilogy that included Trash and Heat (1969 and 1970 respectively), is likely the best-known (and most enjoyable, continuity-wise).
It’s textbook Walken, tailor-made for his blank stares and jaundiced sneers. From taking out mob bosses, to dancing, we adore the man for doing what we can’t.