Movies

Yeah, I got it. It took a torturous 1-1/2 hours to get there but I was spared the 26 minutes more that others had to suffer through in the original cut.Strange camera angles of pumping gas, lying in hotel rooms,urinating, eating, driving, driving, driving. Crying, hugging women wordlessly. Driving Driving Driving.Yeah, the fellow is grieving a lost love with a flower's name, yeah, he's attracted to other women with flowers' names. Yeah he was sorta responsible for the loss of his love. B-b-b-b-ut we never know what that love was all about, was it as shallow as depicted here? You can't care about the main character, how can you. You know nothing of him.This is one of the most self-indulgent movies I've ever seen. With a money shot at the end.Avoid. 2 out of 10 for the Gordon Lightfoot song on the soundtrack.

Why bother? Vincent Gallo, a motorcycle racer, is so magnetic that waitresses throw off their jobs and leave farewell notes at a hint. (He produced the movie.) He's not particularly good looking but he's sympathetic because he acts depressed all the time and women want to cuddle him. Montgomery Clift could pull this off very well. He could make us believe it. Gallo can't. The movie amounts to a porno film with only a few seconds of celebrity paparazzi shots of Chloe Sevigny. (What is she doing in this piece of garbage?) If you want to see a male narcissist suffer for no particular reason while women fall all over him this is your kind of movie. As for me, I think the motives may be no more than those behind Sylvester Stallone's skin flick, an opportunity to seal on film how sturdy your erections are.