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Review :: Arts |
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Review of "Brown Bunny", playing at the Art Theater |
Current rating: 0 |
by anon reviewer
(No verified email address) |
09 Oct 2004
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Vincent Gallo’s "Brown Bunny" has been widely reviewed, with few coming down on the film without strong opinions. In its longer, original form, Ebert called it the worst film ever screened at Cannes. It has received a number of positive reviews after being cut down, and even now Ebert gives it a thumbs up, though there are still plenty of terrible reviews to be found. As I watched it at the Art Theater, a number of people walked out roughly 30 minutes in.
At about an hour and a half, appreciation of the film requires patience with arguably obnoxious composition, and gritty cinematography. Many of the scenes border on tedium, though the talented viewer will use this time for the parallel self-reflection Gallo is counting on.
If you view the film thinking about the man behind it, you will likely be annoyed. As the writer, director, producer, and star, the roughly 30 minutes of the film that are spent on tight shots of Gallo’s face (playing “Bud Clay”) might lead you to believe the whole mess to be the work of an egomaniacal madman—with the most widely cited scene in the movie—an unadulterated blowjob scene with Chole Sevigny—as the climax of Gallo’s egotism. (Even if you don’t like the film, you should be able to appreciate the role it will play in inspiring scores of young men to become filmmakers.)
I was able to put aside what is an obvious self-indulgence of the artist to appreciate the simple and dirty beauty of the film’s demonstration of loss, loneliness, and self-doubt. Having had experienced these three things all at once at some point will likely compel a viewer to appreciate long shots of a bug-spattered windshield as Gallo’s character transverses the country. I myself have gazed at an identical windshield, driving for days in search of that Gallo’s character is in search for—self-awareness after losing the partnership of someone who was an integral part of his/my identity. If you find these scenes tedious, do as I do when I drive such distances under such circumstances: let your eyes go out of focus, absorbing shades and shapes of the surrounding landscape in defiance of the splatters. Often, Gallo does this for you with intentionally unfocused shots that serve to send the viewer inside his or her own head, where most of the action is taking place.
As with most movies, your experiences will define your reaction to the film. I believe that to especially be the case for this film, though, where Gallo is clearly counting on the ubiquitous experiences of loss and solitude to resonate in the consciousness of the viewer; counting on us to mentally perceive the film at the same time we feel the tinge of visceral emotion coincident with those experiences in our guts.
I recommend seeing the film if you fit the above criterion, or have an decent capacity for empathy. Whatever you do, though, DON’T WALK OUT! Even if you are counting on your own experiences to frame the film, there is indeed development at the end that may or may not be necessary for you to understand the character’s position in the world (again, depending on your own experiences).
To my knowledge, it will be playing at Boardman’s thru Thursday, but check their website. |
This work is in the public domain |
