The third in Paul Morrissey’s sublime “Flesh/Trash/Heat” triptych. Perhaps the least adventurous of the three in terms of editing style and plot construction, Heat makes up for it with more lulz per capita and a surreal proto John Waters feel.
Its visual style is pure California, and very consistent; the muted blues, red-oranges and beiges, and the omnipresent flesh tones by the poolside make the feeling of sleazy malaise nearly palpable.
The plot is loosely modeled on Sunset Blvd, with Lil’ Joe inheriting the mantel of young-stud-macking-fading-cougar-lady from the incomparable William Holden.
As funny and entertaining as it is “arty”(ugh), maybe start here and go backwards if you aren’t ready for the extended takes of Trash and Flesh. You pussy.