Joey Davis is an unemployed former child star who supports himself as a hustler in Los Angeles. Joey uses sex to get his landlady to reduce his rent, then seduces Sally Todd, a former Hollywood starlet.
Sally tries to help Joey revive his career but her status as a mediocre ex-actress proves to be quite useless. Sally's psychotic daughter, Jessica, further complicates the relationship between Sally and the cynical, emotionally numb Joey.
Heat was based on an idea by writer John Hallowell.[4][5] The film was shot in Los Angeles in 1971. Without a written plot, it was produced for less than $100,000 in two weeks.[6][3]
The film was well received at Cannes Film Festival and the New York Film Festival screening was standing-room only and was received by a generally enthusiastic crowd however three people walked out, with one lady claiming "It's the most disgusting thing I have ever seen" and referring to the films of the era "Make them, make them, just don't show them to anybody."[9][7] At a panel discussion following the New York Film Festival screening, Otto Preminger called it "depressingly entertaining".[7]
After previously ignoring most Warhol films, the New York Daily News reviewed the film, with Kathleen Carroll awarding it three stars.[12] The advert for the film was censored in the Daily News with a t-shirt painted on Dallesandro and a bra strap on Miles.[12]
Andrea Feldman, who had a much larger role than in previous Warhol films, committed suicide shortly before the film was released.[13] Her performance garnered positive reviews, with Judith Crist, writing in New York magazine, "The most striking performance, in large part non-performance, comes from the late Andrea Feldman, as the flat-voiced, freaked-out daughter, a mass of psychotic confusion, infantile and heart-breaking."[14]
In a review for the Los Angeles Times, Kevin Thomas described Heat as a "captivating but too drawnout parody of 'Sunset Boulevard' crossed with 'Where Love Has Gone.' He added, that the film "rings true at its core; it's around the edges that indulges in self-defeating spoofery and sexploitation."[5]
Peter Schjeldahl of The New York Times wrote that Heat is "by far the slickest and most coherent specimen of Warholian cinema to date; it is also, for me, the least interesting. If it lacks the harshness and distraction of previous Warhol Factory productions, it also lacks their sense of serendipity and thorny life. Without being boring, it's a bore."[15]
Jerry Stein of The Cincinnati Post described the film as "an unexpectedly cold, harsh comedy in its lack of compassion."[1]