The classic cinematic triangle becomes something else again in Beauty #2, in which Edie Sedgwick and a young man (Gino Piserchio) lie on a bed in a half-hearted, oft-interrupted attempt at lovemaking while, offscreen, Chuck Wein, presumably Beauty #1, interrupts with bullying interrogations. Edie and Gino have as a kind of sidekick/McGuffin, a dog named Horse (like Asta, he provides a welcome diversion from the pressures of sex, alcohol, and the omniscient camera); Wein has his own cohort in the person of Gerard Malanga, also off-camera. It makes for an action-packed stillness (the camera being stationary) of implied eyeline matches ("a fantastically tangled vortex of controlling gazes" --J. Hoberman) and often unintelligible repartee. What is heard, however, is funny and sad by turns and what is seen becomes, with the luxury of time, a witty play of surfaces. Sedgwick, in bra and panties, strikes a posture out of some Egyptian hieroglyph, as if she were afraid to turn her side, let alone her back, to the camera. And with good reason: Beauty #2 is a set-up in which Sedgwick is both coveted and taunted for the narcissism that is her stock and trade. (In her, interestingly, voyeurism is turned inward.) Warhol fashioned his Factory on the Hollywood "Dream Factory" of the thirties and then created superstars in whom he could reveal all the tristesse of stardom, actresses whom he could taunt, like Sedgwick, for being actresses.