Original caricature by Jeff York of various folks in the documentary MAKE ME FAMOUS (Keith Haring, Jean Michel Basquiat, David Bowie, David McDermott, Madonna, Marguerite Van Cook, James Romberger, Annina Nosei, and Edward Brezinski. (copyright 2025)
Back in August of this year, it was my privilege to guest on the podcast KICKING THE SEAT with host, friend, and fellow film critic Ian Simmons to discuss a documentary playing the festival circuit entitled MAKE ME FAMOUS. Filmmaker Brian Vincent took a deep dive into New York’s East Village art scene of the 1980s and since both Ian and I were alumni of the American Academy of Art in Chicago decades ago, it spoke to us on the level of artists as well as film critics. We found the documentary compelling for many reasons, not the least of which is that it’s a shrewd critique of the art scene in that period. But perhaps more fascinatingly we discovered that the film also presented a compelling mystery of what happened to an artist named Edward Brezinski who disappeared during his quest for fame and fortune in the New York art scene. Brezinski did not achieve either during his time in NYC, and Vincent examines why as well as what became of him after he left the States. It’s a fascinating film worth seeking out, and please do give the podcast episode a look for a deeper dive into it https://bit.ly/450yYQj.
Here are some additional thoughts I have on this arresting documentary and why it should speak to any audience about the difficulties in being an artist, let alone chasing fame and fortune.
MAKE ME FAMOUS feels in some respects like the last hurrah for not only Brezinski as the film practically plays like a memoriam for him, but also of the art movement in New York that once held so much of the zeitgeist enthralled. Back in the day, going on 4-5 decades ago now, painters like Andy Warhol and Jean Michel Basquiat became famous worldwide, almost rockstars of their day in a way. Today, not so much. Famed artists are more likely to be filmmakers, musicians, or even TikTok and Instagram ‘influencers’ than traditional painters, sculptors, or even photographers. Watching a film about starving artists and their uniquely sheltered world feels downright nostalgic in 2025, if not wholly quaint. And by focusing on wannabe Brezinski, Vincent has found the perfect poster child to mourn the end of an era.
Brezinski was a nominally talented artist, in search of meaning in his work, let alone a discernible style, but that didn’t stop him from coming to New York hellbent on becoming rich and famous. Whether Brezinski wanted to be famous or a great artist first is open to debate, but from what Vincent shows us, I’d say it was more of the former. As presented in the film, Brezinski is regularly presented as a desperate soul, looking for attention constantly, and more than happy to use controversy when his art wouldn’t suffice. He was outspoken, moody, temperamental, sexist, and had quite a drinking problem to boot, so he had a lot of tools in that kit. All of his colorful personality definitely made him a presence in the NYC art scene. His paintings? Not so much.
He started out with good prospects having been raised in suburban Michigan from a well-to-do family and enjoying a collegiate art education courtesy of the prestigious San Francisco Institute of Art. But when he moved to New York, he ran headlong into many others with the same dreams and aspirations, and it seemed to drive him almost mad. He produced less, drank more, pissed off as many as he impressed, and endangered his standing with gallery owners through his belligerence to the point where he almost became a pariah. At one point, he threw a glass of red wine into the face of famed gallerist Annina Nosei when she snubbed a friend of his, and while the film makes hay of Brezinski’s legendary defiance, it presents a portrait of a man who is childish in temperament and foolish in biting hands that could feed him. None of his art showcased in the film stands out particularly, and many artists and peers from that time period easily eclipse him. Shrewdly, Vincent has gotten many of those still living to talk on camera about their art, that heady time in NYC, and indeed, the fly in the ointment that was Brezinski.
Vincent gets fascinating testimony from numerous standouts from that period including artists David McDermott, Marguerite Van Cook, James Romberger, Peter McGough, as well as others from New York back then including Nosei, Eric Bogosian, Patti Astor, and various art critics who do a great job of illuminating history even further.
The film also does an excellent job of showing how fame was changing during that period, often favoring image over substance. After all, this was the early 80s, with cable television, mass media, and MTV broadening their influence and a worshipping of artists, fashionistas, and pop stars who came up quick and were more flavors of the month than lasting contributors. Traditional artists like Pollock, Johns, and Lichenstein certainly had their time in the sun, sure, but by the mid-80s, their world was shrinking to make way for all sorts of folks wanting attention.
Vincent makes a fascinating little history lesson here, touching on everyone from Keith Haring to David Bowie to Nancy Reagan and their influence on those in the East Village, let alone how MTV, sex, and provocateurs like Madonna held the public enraptured. Feminism, AIDS, the internet, and globalism all seemed to shift focus too and as the East Village shrunk in comparison to the new movers and shakers, the tone of MAKE ME FAMOUS takes on an almost funereal feel. The final third of the documentary even finds Vincent and crew traveling to Europe, along with artists James Romberger and Marguerite Van Cooke, to find out what happened to the controversial Brezinski after he left America years earlier. Rumors of his death circulated for many moons, with some wondering if Brezinski might have even faked his death as a last-ditch effort by to create headlines, stir gossip, and perhaps cement some sort of legend.
Ironically, with this documentary, Brezinski now achieves the sort of broad fame that evaded him during his heyday in the East Village. In fact, MAKE ME FAMOUS ultimately serves as a fitting epilogue to the troubled artist’s life and struggling career. The film eulogizes that time too when art was more substantive, not just deemed “content.” Back then, artists were more interest in saying something about the times they lived in and using their talent to make bold, brave statements. Brezinski wanted his work to speak for him took, but he seemed all too willing to bridged the gap to fame with whatever would make him memorable, be it controversy or notoriety.
In some ways, Brezinski’s greatest artistic creation was the bad boy image he painted for himself during his time in NYC, even if it was then and now, a rather unflattering portrait.
