1998
Starring: Vincent Gallo, Christina Ricci, Angelica Huston, Rosanna Arquette, Micky Rourke
Director: Vincent Gallo
Runtime: 110 minutes
Distributor: United Artists
Rating: R

Vincent Gallo is certainly a very polarizing fellow in deed. You either like his stuff or you don’t. Of course, those people who do feel the need to argue about liking his stuff or not, are all instantly brought together in their unanimous agreement that absolutely none of them like him. Without doubt one of the most egotistical shameless self-promoters in the world, Gallo is a man who guarantees controversy whatever he is involved in, whether it be receiving on screen fellatio from Chloe Sevigny in The Brown Bunny or offering himself as a sperm donor for $200,000 (giving new meaning to the phrase making money from a load of old wank), the man is nothing if not provocative. That being said, this early sweet-natured effort, ripe with star cameos and a brilliant minimalist performance from Ricci back before it was discovered that she in fact can’t act at all, is extremely good, excellent in fact.

Freshly released from prison after being forced by a debt to dangerous bookie he can’t pay into confessing to a crime he didn’t commit, the neurotic and bitter Billy Brown (Gallo) kidnaps Layla (Ricci), a naive young girl to pass off as his new bride, desperate to impress his disinterested parents. His resentful mother (a pitch perfect Angelica Houston), a NFL fanatic, has never gotten over being in labor with him the day the Bills won the championship. But as Billy tries to reconnect with his grim past. Layla’s innocent little doe slowly falls for him.

Largely improv-based, with long pauses and much repetition, this film is a sweet, surrealist love story that turns awkward introspection into an art form. Buffalo 66 is heartbreaking, filled with moments of clear self-loathing on the part of its director and at times is even Lynchian in its presentation of isolation and loneliness (witness Ricci’s spotlight tap dance at the bowling ally). It is also thoroughly self-indulgent, with Gallo setting a chunk of the movie in a bowling ally for no other reason than to show us how good he is at bowling (and he is). But credit where it is due, the caustic dialog is excellent and has Gallo playing the bitterness and self-deprecation up for some quite sardonic laughter. Also extremely endearing is Ricci’s vulnerable puppy dog act that can’t fail to melt the hardest heart as the unlikely couple slowly opens to each other in gentle and tender third act that’s nothing short of delightful.

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