Vincent Gallo's Knob-Polishing Scene Can't Make Me Not Love Him & My Peculiar Brand Of Movie Review.

Just a few things, Jeff Mac and the rest of you:

It may seem that my movie reviews are stale, because I tend to write them long after the movies in question have been released. This is because I feel I can really dig in and explore my feelings about them only after the hubbub has died down. Also, perhaps laziness.

It may also seem that my movie reviews are b.s. because sometimes I like to review movies I haven't seen yet, or movies that I saw only long ago and maybe didn't even pay much attention to. This is my peculiar brand of review. Let's just say that sometimes what you have to say can be more pertinent when you don't know what you're talking about. If you believe that, I love you, don't ever leave me. For more on this, see the footnote to my Rauschenberg review.

I have not yet seen The Brown Bunny, but I have seen its x-rated knob-polishing scene on the Internet. (Sorry, no links to p*rn on my blog. Google it yourself. I'm already worried about the cretins I'll attract from having typed "x-rated" and "knob-polishing.") The movie is currently jockeying for a top-three spot on my netflix queue, and I look forward to watching it. I loved Buffalo '66.

I consider Ye Olde Knobbe Scene to have been an artistic misstep for Vincent Gallo. I don't have to see the whole movie to know that if you are going to have a scene like that, you can expect viewers to be violently ripped away from whatever narrative you have established, to be dragged down instead into prurient wonder about what the actors, not the characters, are doing, about whether it is a prosthesis, whether he really finished his bidness, whether she swallowed, et cetera and ad infinitum. This kind of brouhaha should be beneath Vincent Gallo (instead of Chloë Sevigny's head). His prodigious talent suddenly gets demoted to prodigious endowment.

The fact that Chloë Sevigny is his ex-girlfriend makes it slightly less icky, but it was still a mistake.

However, this faux pas cannot make me not love the man who cycles around the city, practically singlehandedly made Buffalo '66, and said this:

I don't trust or love anyone. Because people are so creepy. Creepy creepy creeps. Creeping around. Creeping here and creeping there. Creeping everywhere. Crippity crappity creepies.

Forgiveness is very satisfying. I can get on with my life now. I adore you, Vincent Gallo.