Buffalo '66 opens with Billy Brown (Vincent Gallo) being released from prison after 5 years. The first three and a half minutes of this film rank among my favorite scenes of all time. Starting with the fade from white through until the onscreen collage you know you're looking at something special. For me, these moments are emotionally shattering and we know right off that something is not right in the world of this film.

The film as a whole is one half surrealist comedy and one half heart-breaking drama. Gallo's work as director/writer/composer is both subtle and bold. Many would argue that there is nothing original about Buffalo '66. I'm not going to debate that, but I think Buffalo '66 is more than a film that mindlessly borrows from the past. It's about an individual who has nowhere that he can feel at home. The character instead hides behind a wall of false self confidence that everyone can relate to on some level. It is my opinion that portions of the film exist only within Billy's mind and his perception of his surroundings. At the same time the film rings very true in many ways. Gallo's brilliant dialog is endlessly quotable and the one thing that lifts the film out of a place that might have left many viewers feeling either bored or depressed. Personally, I love just about everything about this film. From the oppressive Buffalo surroundings to Billy himself the film remains a very personal statement that most can find some truth in. out of

Mark Balson

I finally saw this movie, and I was so very impressed... and genuinely moved. The first half of the film is so completely oppressive, so utterly unnerving, that it felt as though someone was rubbing brillo against my raw, exposed nerves. I can certainly understand how this extremely heightened level of anguish and violent potential could really put off someone simply looking for a bit of escapism.

I love the look of the reversal stock and I never found the camera angles disturbing. It's an extraordinarily constructed film, but it doesn't allow it's expressionistic techniques to overshadow its true emotion.

Very quickly (with the prison collage) we are clue'd in to the fact that we are seeing events through Billy's eyes. The exaggerated emotions and the over-the-top portrayal of the parents are events as filtered through his experience - a child's eye view. When we see his mother looking directly through him to watch her beloved Bills (on VHS) losing the very game that was the roundabout cause of Billy's prison term, we are seeing her through her son's eyes. We're seeing his whole miserable existence, his whole pathetic history. As she lays out the family albums, filled with Buffalo Bill's memories, but can't quite find the one single 'Billy photo', we experience his whole childhood. When benign explanations are offered for particular events (what happened to Billy's puppy?), we are brought deep inside Billy's mind to witness the stark contrast of truth... or at least truth as filtered through a child's eyes. It is horrifying.

But then we get to the bowling alley. We see Billy's one, pathetic skill - the single thing he's proud of; the sum total of his life's promise. It's at this moment that Layla performs her tap-dance. It's such a momentously joyous thing; her one, most prized ability; her joy. It's her first true expression of self. From that moment on, it becomes a story about two people; a love story. I can't begin to tell you how touched I was by that scene. It certainly has a lot to do with how utterly oppressive and hopeless life had looked up to that point - these two are still pathetic and largely without hope, but suddenly they've begun to connect with one another and with life. But not quite...

I can't say more without giving it all away, but the scene in the donut shop was a wonder. The dialog could have been so banal, so utterly sentimental, but it rang so true and perfect to me. The heart-shaped cookie; the obliging clerk... "who made these?" "probably someone romantic" ... "four dollars?" "including the one you bought for him" "oh yeah" ... the whole exchange rang so true to me, and my heart was pounding with the fear that Layla might have given up on him ever returning. And, oh yeah... that final call to Goon/Rocky outside of the strip club (almost forgot about that one!)... though this movie is very often brutal and hopeless and oppressive, it's also a movie of a million tiny joys.

"I've got a girl. A girl who loves me. She's pretty.... She's waiting for me."

Goddam. A whole life redeemed.

Al Brown

The deadpan tragicomedy aspect of the film reminds me very much of the existentialist angst films of Aki Kaurismaki (influenced by Robert Bresson and Jean-Pierre Melville). The use of superimposed, framed flashback sequences is derived from Francois Truffaut (adapted from the montage techniques of Sergei Eisenstein). The extended fade to black and short take ellipses are reminiscent of Jim Jarmusch.

What this suggests to me is that Vincent Gallo may be a novice, but he is neither self-indulgent nor uninformed in the process of filmmaking. It is obvious that he is passionate about film (and has studied it well), and that he has a deliberate, singular vision in the direction of Buffalo 66. This is not a film that results from a "happy accident" or weak directing and editing; it is a confident and reverent film of self-expression.

Acquarello

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Disc Size: 37,610,488,064 bytes