August 27, 2004

We have been reduced, it seems, to discussing The Brown Bunny as though it matters, even in a small way. The bottom line is that Vinnie Gallo is a spectacular mediocrity who has developed his own Tarantino-esque cult of personality, writ small, that leaves critics nodding at his films and saying, "What? And give up show business?"

There are a lot of things I like about The Brown Bunny. It has the broth of a great bouillabaisse. Its pretensions are so relentless that they eventually feel as though they are attached to meaning. But in the end, the film is a form of meditation, so that you get from the film only as much as you put in. Never have men who wear raincoats to movie theaters had so much in common with the filmmaker.

Making your own Brown Bunny is fairly easy. Don't wash your car windshield for a month or so. Buy a Gordon Lightfoot CD. Drive for a couple of hours along some Midwest farming territory. Neck silently and inexplicably with a former supermodel at a truckstop. Look for your old apartment. Find an attractive blonde and get her to perform oral sex on you. Remember how it all went wrong. Rinse. Repeat.

I understand what critics see in this film. I do get it. But it is a 20 minute short, not a feature. At 20 minutes, the density of the idea of stream of conscience might bring some real impact. And I am quite comfortable that a two and a half hour version, shown in Cannes, must have been like a third root canal in one seating… enough to make anyone scream. But just because it's better doesn't make it good. This is not good Wenders or even mediocre Herzog. The only real relation to Kenneth Anger is the kink. Breillat has more to say about sex… Leconte has more to say about obsessive love (as does Roger Michel in the - yes, plugging it again - brilliant Enduring Love)… Nolan has more to say about being disconnected… Wong Kar Wai can be just as pretentious, but just plain blows Gallo off the cinematic stage.

My short review of the "rediscovery" of The Brown Bunny has been the same since last year… People won't wait 120 minutes for a blow job. People will wait 90 minutes for a blow job and will spend their idle time waiting doing the work of the alleged filmmaker.

Here is my recommendation. Take your $20 for tickets and $15 for concessions and take your date to a better dinner than you had planned. Get her to perform oral sex on you. Perform oral sex on her. Engage in vigorous intercourse. When you're done, talk about your first love or your first pet. Cry if you can. Send Vinnie a thank you note. Believe me… that time will be far better spent and you will take away far more meaningful memories.

IN ANOTHER THEATER: "My anaconda don't want none unless you've got buns hon." The snakes in the Screen Gems release are not quite as selective. But it may just be the greatest giant snake sequel of all time. (Has there ever been another one?)

Oddly enough, I did not take the time to check out Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2. In fact, I never took the time to check out Baby Geniuses I.

READER OF THE DAY: A SEATTLE HUFF writes: "Don't know if you listen to Howard Stern, but this morning he had the surprisingly entertaining Vincent Gallo on, and Stern brought Roger Ebert on to talk with him about the whole Cannes Brown Bunny fiasco. Gallo noted that Ebert called the movie the worst movie in the history of the Cannes Film Festival, and that Richard Roeper compared it unfavorably to dog shit.

Then Ebert mentioned that when they review the film on their show this weekend that it will only be getting one thumbs down... But he wouldn't elaborate... So, it's entirely possible that Ebert has changed his mind (Gallo DID cut 20 minutes out of the film after all), or possibly one of the two elected to not offer a review and Ebert was being coy (I think it's much more likely that Ebert changed his mind than Roeper, but you never know...)"

E ME: Flip Flop or Thoughtful Choice?