Filmmakers would have you believe that Edie Sedgwick, the doomed protagonist in Factory Girl, is compelling as all get-out to watch, a vibrant ball of energy which unfortunately spiraled into a whirlwind of tragedy. But as depicted here, the life of this artist's muse is about as interesting as watching paint dry.

In a role she probably thought would catapult her to stardom, Sienna Miller (Casanova) portrays Edie Sedgwick, who, as the film opens, is a bright-eyed young artist in the early 1960s. The daughter of a wealthy family, Edie makes her way to New York City, where instead of letting her own creativity soar, she caught the eye of an emerging artist by the name of Andy Warhol (Guy Pearce). Andy's world of parties, pop art, and pill popping strike Edie's fancy right off the bat, allowing her to live a carefree existence as a pretty face starring in Andy's underground movies.

However, as every episode of VH1's "Behind the Music" has ever taught us, fame comes with a certain price. For Edie, her increasing dependence on drugs and generous nights out with friends deplete her trust fund fast, and after she's seen cavorting with a very Bob Dylanesque musician (Hayden Christensen), Andy and his fellow Factory fixtures slowly start to ostracize her, kick-starting a terrible descent that all the money in the world can't prevent.

Like Paris Hilton today, Factory Girl leaves one with the impression that Sedgwick was famous just for  being famous. The basic biopic structure is at work (bright beginnings, tumultuous rise to fame, tragic downfall), but the one key component director George Hickenlooper (the man behind such excellent documentaries as Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocalypse and Mayor of the Sunset Strip) forgets to include is a reason to care about Sedgwick in the first place. Over the ending credits, real-life people who knew Edie talk about what a sweet and lively person she was, all but ordering us to think of Edie as someone important; but the only image Factory Girl presents is one of a bright girl who turned into a junkie and paid the price: no poignancy, no lasting impression, just your garden-variety, "drugs are bad" cautionary tale. Miller has received acclaim for her performance here, and she doesn't fare too badly, but the thin script doesn't give her much to do but smoke, scream, and cry her way to the end.

Factory Girl is at its best when focusing on Warhol, played with frightening accuracy by an almost unrecognizable Guy Pearce. Pearce does an incredible job of endowing Warhol with every droll, passive, pretentious note to be found within the character. He comes across as a subtle Svengali who uses Edie as another peg for climbing the ladder of fame -- yet not without a couple of slight, blink-and-you'll-miss twinges of humanity. The interactions between Warhol and Edie are fascinating to watch, a much more absorbing improvement over seeing Edie take a predictable trip down Self-Destruction Boulevard.

Christensen also fares very well as an enigmatic musician who stirs up Edie's life and bears more than a passing resemblance to a certain Mr. Tambourine Man. In fact, Christensen is better here as "Not Bob Dylan" than Eddie Murphy was as "Not James Brown" in the pretty but overrated Dreamgirls. The rest of the cast is filled with familiar faces, from Mena Suvari and Jimmy Fallon to Illeana Douglas and Edward Hermann, though hardly any of them get the chance to emerge and really flesh out the plot very much.

By now, most people have heard Andy Warhol's famous declaration that everyone will be famous for 15 minutes. By my estimation, that's about how much  time Edie Sedgwick serves as a compelling figure during Factory Girl -- at least in the way the script presents her here. 

MY RATING: ** 1/2 (out of ****)

(Released by The Weinstein Company and rated "R" for pervasive drug use, sexual content, nudity and language.)

NOTE: This review refers to the unrated DVD edition of Factory Girl, which features a running time nine minutes longer than the version released into theaters.