The cast is an independent-film dream ensemble. Jeffrey Wright is excellent in the title role, wandering aimlessly between naivete and opportunism; his facial expressions run the limited gamut from blank to stoned, but anything more would be overacting. David Bowie does a sharp, graceful turn as Andy Warhol, ably playing the icon as an effeminate oddity. Dennis Hopper portrays the Swiss art dealer Bruno Bischofberger as a gently befuddled Daddy Warbucks. Gary Oldman plays the fictional Albert Milo, a superstar painter based on Schnabel himself, with smarmy chic and a benevolence not usually associated with egomaniacs. Claire Forlani, as Basquiat's fictionalized girlfriend Gina, is allowed the only role with any emotional range (and audience sympathy); she plays it with style and charm.

There is an element of sarcastic and simplistic caricature in some of the characters, notably Mary Boone (Parker Posey, too WASPish and frisky, is miscast) and Annina Nosei (gamely played by Elina Lowensohn); these women art dealers, who were in fact more responsible for the '80s art boom than any male art star that they marketed, are dismissed as greedy and grasping harpies. Likewise, adulatory critic Rene Ricard is represented as a jealous young queen by the scenery-gnawing Michael Wincott. One gets the definite sense that Schnabel -- as both director and participating artist -- isn't looking back with fondness or gratitude at the people who formed his ladder rungs.