SUBTITLES:
By Anita Sarko

For the life of me (or what passes for it these days) I cannot understand the savage reviews of “Party Monster”! Or, maybe I can… people hate to confront what they hate to believe … in this case, that the depiction of misguided kids just wanting to have fun (and having it) can actually provide a satisfactory morality play. For some reason, most of the reviews claim that the film has no message. Actually, if that were true, it would be totally representative of the scene it depicts. The Club Kids (or “Klub Kinder”, as Rudolph, who was a Creative Director of Palladium and Danceteria at the time, dubbed them) celebrated superficiality above all else. Therefore, isn’t it rather hilarious to demand depth?

Let me explain…

One day, sometime in the early to late 80’s, as I was leaving my apartment, I was brought to a halt by a shrieking boy, either in his late teens or early twenties, and obviously Gay. “Oh my God!” He yelled. “You’re Anita Sarko!” I skidded to a stop and stared at him. “I have you on my wall!” He screamed. I didn’t know whether or not to be flattered or scared, so I decided to be both.

“ Why do you have me on your wall?”
“ Because you’re in “Details”! Because you’re in Stephen Saban’s column! You and Haoui Montaug and Dianne Brill and Michael Musto and Patrick McMullan and…” He went on and on. “That’s why I came to New York!”
“ Why did you come to New York?” I asked my new friend, thinking I had missed something.
“ To be in “Details”! To be in Stephen Saban’s column!”
“ And, what do you do?”
This time, he just stared blankly at me.
“ Do you do something? Do you have a profession? Are you a student of something?”
“ No. What’s that got to do with anything?” He was clearly bewildered.
“ Well,” I explained patiently. “Everyone that Stephen writes about does something. I’m a DJ, Haoui is a Doorman, performance artist and writer, Dianne designs clothing, Michael is a writer and singer, Patrick is a photographer, other people are painters… These people came to New York, did something and Stephen and “Details” found them interesting because of this. Now, why did you come to New York?”
“ To be in “Details”! To be written about! To be famous!”
“ Famous for what exactly?”
“ Nothing!” The kid said firmly. “Just famous! I want to have my picture in “Details”. How do I get my picture in “Details”? How do I get Stephen Saban to write about me? That’s what I want? That’s what I want to do!”

And that was the end of that. Actually, what I didn’t know was that was the beginning. The beginning of a whole new Age: The Age of Celebrity. Which, of course, we are still living in. And you thought that the Hilton Sisters were something new? That being famous-for-being-famous was something new? Hahaha! As long as there’s an interest on the public’s part for pretty or odd things to look at and read about, there will be this fervent embrace of all things superficial. Who doesn’t love tabloids? That’s why every serious news outlet has succumbed to tabloid ideals – they sell. In decades past, it was two-headed Dog babies from Mars. Now it’s the Hiltons. So what! Same thing. And what “normal” person doesn’t dream of being able to do absolutely nothing except be beautiful, shop, party and get laid, with absolutely no other consequences except the need for a few hours more sleep or a dry-out session at some pricey rehab spa, which they can easily afford or, at worst, a nasty invasion of privacy? No one really cares about the finger-wagers. The head-shakers may hide behind morality or “caring”, but anyone can tell their concern is really based in jealousy. Yeah, life’s not fair.

Which brings us back to “Party Monster” For some strange reason, Hollywood has a tough time retaining any degree of authenticity with subject matter based on reality, particularly reality from the recent past. Usually this is because either people who weren’t there made these films or, if they were there, were outsiders. Luckily, in this case, everyone involved with the production – Fenton Bailey, Randy Barbato, James St. James - knows what they’re depicting, having been – particularly in James’ case– in the thick of it. Fenton and Randy were certainly around in those days and deeply Downtown, but I remember them as their counter-identities, The Pop Tarts, a musical /performance art twosome. I first met them when they were major Marc Almond fans who had tracked me down because they found out that Marc was one of my best friends. In those days, Fenton even looked like Marc. They deejayed and created their own synth-based Soft Cell-ish music when they weren’t playing old Disco. I once took Marc to see them and it was a love-fest on both sides. Of course, Fenton and Randy then went on to form World of Wonder, which has gained renown for managing Rupaul and creating some very interesting documentaries (“The Eyes of Tammy Faye”). As for James , well he literally wrote the book (Disco Bloodbath), right?

I was the M.C. of the first event that Michael Alig threw – The Dirty Mouth Contest. I loved Alig. I had so much respect for him because he actually did something. He became the ringleader of all these visually creative urchins and gave them a stage from which to play out their fantasies. He was a promoter. He actually earned a living. As for the drug dealers being welcomed at his events, that was how it was in those days. Any club promoter or party giver knew that the only way to assure a proper vibe was to have the substances that fueled such vibes readily available. Particularly Ecstasy. Who wouldn’t want entire rooms filled with wildly dancing sweaty young thangs swooning “Have I told you how much I really love you?” to each other?

The Dirty Mouth Contest usually took place at Limelight. The other judges were Saban, James, Michael Musto, DJ Andy Anderson and Alig. We did that ersatz contest for five years. Every year, we awarded the prize to the cutest guy we could get to take his clothes off. Nice clean fun. In fact, no matter how decadent and out of control everything got, no one really paid it any mind because, hey, that was what the times (mid 80’s to early 90’s) were all about.

It was only when Alig phoned me to announce that he had discovered heroin that I refused to give my blessing. “You can’t win with junk.” I advised. “Everyone I know that got involved with it back in the Punk days has either died or is back in the Midwest.” As a fellow former Midwesterner (Alig was from South Bend, I was from Detroit), Alig understood that these two options were the same thing, as far as I was concerned. However, I could tell that Alig wasn’t buying into this Early Warning System. I knew that I had lost him. And what a loss this was – he was so smart, so capable, and so much fun. I absolutely adored him. And there really was a person there, despite what “Party Monster” might lead you to believe. That’s why, when he was on-the lam and phoning me, protesting his innocence, I actually believed him. I wanted to believe him. The reality was way beyond my comprehension – which is saying a lot. We wrote for a time after he was put in jail, but a combination of not being able to keep up with his letters (he has a lot of spare time, obviously) and the festering resentment over his lying to me caused me to stop.

So, sitting through that movie made me very sad. It was great to see a lot of the survivors, but we seem to run into each other a lot anyway. I was probably most surprised at Richie Rich telling me that he had never gotten into drugs. I was astonished at that! Then again, I guess that’s why he’s been able to make such a success for himself with his fashion line Heatherette. And, where was Julie Jewels? I know she’s a married woman now, but, wasn’t she curious? I mean, she wasn’t even in the movie! Luckily, Clara the Carefree Chicken was up there on the big screen, which raised my spirits a bit. I always loved Clara.

When I caught up with James and Fenton and Randy at the party at Plaid following the screening, they asked me what I thought about the movie. It was hard to put my feelings into words. I thought it was excellent, but what was excellent about it – the authenticity, the performances – couldn’t undo my melancholia. I complimented Macauley Caulkin on managing to show the humanity and intelligence under the mess, which seemed to please him. I heard Randy tell him, “She really knows.” I thought I did. It’s kind of funny to me that the photographers I spoke to afterwards told me that Culkin was evasive with them – until they put away their cameras. He couldn’t have been more personable and friendly when I was gushing over him. Maybe he’s still suffering from his alleged agoraphobia or whatever his alleged phobias have been or still are.

I’ve just received an e-mail from Saban. I haven’t heard from him in so long. “’Party Monster’ rocks really hard, f’shizzle, m’nizzle, right?” He wrote. He was really taken with Marilyn Manson (wasn’t everyone?), as well as Seth Green, Chloe Sevigny and all the rest. Just check the pics on the web site for who was in it and at the party in Manhattan. As a bit of a footnote, it was Saban who first gave Patrick his chance by featuring Patty-Mac’s photos in his column and schlepping him around to events. Saban was also the first person to do a feature on me: In those days, no one really gave a fuck about some girl DJ. Anyway, Saban said that he’s actually read some great reviews. My favorite is by Roger Ebert. Check his out if you want to read a really insightful one.

Let’s move on, shall we?

What a night Patty-Mac, Sam “Natural Blonde” Bolton and I had on September 4th! You could tell that “The Season” had begun. It was so damned muggy outside, which made the backyard of Reed and Delphine Krakoff’s gorgeous home even more glorious – if that was possible. It was. The house was packed to capacity for the cocktail reception given by the board of directors of the CFDA to welcome the newest members. That was our first stop. Look at the pics on the website for who was there and a glimpse of the home. Our photographers were especially impressed with the hosts (“They looked really hot!” One remarked about their looks, not their body temperatures) and new member Sean Combs, who apparently charmed everyone, especially the more “senior” members. And, considering the age of our photographers, anyone over 30 is a “senior”.

From there, we went to a preview of Alain Ducasse and Jeffrey Chodorow’s newest eatery named Mix. After a big hug for Four Season’s king Julian Niccolini and wife Lisa (looking so beautifully bodacious), we were joined by jeweler to the stars Janis Savitt and photographer Sam Bassatt. Janis swore she wouldn’t eat because of some run-in with a pint of ice cream the night before, which had left her feeling mighty guilty. Nevertheless, she found herself seduced into breaking her fast by the yummy clam chowder, the scrumptious buffalo steak and oh those Floating Islands!

From there, Patrick dragged us way west to the Chelsea Art Museum for a party hosted by Nike to launch “a technology the sneaker world has never seen”. Whatever that was, I’m still in the dark about. But, oh, how I loved those mini grilled cheese sandwiches! Yes, even after stuffing myself at Mix, I was still grazing. (Oink!) The place was packed with pretty young people I’ve never seen before in my life. I did see Gina Gershon, as I’m sure you will if you look at the pics Pat took. There were lots of strange lights all around and lots of beer and lots of stairs to huff and puff up and down on. Fabulous. As we were leaving, we ran into some of our favorite people – Andre Balazs (owner of hip and groovy hotels like the Mercer and Chateau Marmont), Angela Janklow Harrington (Always “It Girl” and Dolce & Gabbana P.R.) and nice couple Nancy and Andrew (co-founder of MovieFone/ director of Sundance 2003 Grand Jury Prize winner “Capturing the Friedmans”) Jarecki.

We finally ended up at Patrick’s studio. I conducted an interview with Patrick for the November 2003 “Interview”. It’s about his upcoming book So80S. So, if “Party Monster” leaves you wanting more or dissatisfied or if you’d just like to have one huge gorgeous book around to give you a real good glimpse of those fabled times, start saving your money. It’s coming out at the end of October/beginning of November. Just keep checking the web site. Anyway, Angela and Andrew stopped by the studio to have a look. Angela’s picture is represented, as is a piece she wrote. Oh what whooping and hollering there was! Of course, that’s Angela’s natural state, which is why we love her.

Which brings me to something else this studio loves: Stephen Bender’s t-shirts. What a riot they are! With sayings such as “Bender” (hahaha), “Hebrew School Dropout” and “Is that a Xanax in your pocket?”, we laughed and laughed as he gave them out to pretty ones all over the city. Stephen was formerly a Fixed Income Trader with Prudential who got canned when they discovered that he had written a novel, The Devil Wore Burberry, on his e-mail. “They got me on a technicality!” He cries. Well, he’s not crying now, actually. As a joke, he printed up a shirt with the logo “Who needs the Hamptons?” for a 4th of July party in Brooklyn given by buddies from Brooklyn Law School. “I wore white pants and slicked-back hair,” he laughs. His friends were wowed by the T and told him he could sell it at Barney’s. That has yet to happen, but he’s certainly moved forward with, what he hopes is, a calling card to what he really wants to do: Copywriting or marketing. We wish him great and lasting luck.

Which brings us to someplace you can go to pass out your calling cards, do something, be someone, or just BE. That would be Delft, the cutest happening bar at 14 Ave. B (between 2nd St. and Housten). Remember to give a huge hug to your host, Crazy Finger. Remember to give a huge tip to the lovely Lori, bartender-extraordinaire. And fall under the spell of tne magnificent DJ Erzen, whose talent will make you lose all sense of yourself and release all those tired old inhibitions. Who knows – you might become the next Party Monster – only try to keep on this side of the Law, okay?