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The Worst Film Ever

Let me be very fair here, this is not the best movie in my opinion. But, this movie is fun, it has purpose and is very enjoyable to watch.

The movie's neither hopeful in contrived ways, nor hopeless in different contrived ways. Somehow it manages to be wonderful

I saw it years ago and have the DVD, but will never watch this thing again. Never. It has got to be the most boring movie ever made. It is like watching close-circuit security camera footage in an upmarket neighborhood, static imagery with no prospect of anything happening to liven it up. Chloe Sevigny? Yes, I had heard about the controversial blowjob scene, and I DID enter for that reason, mostly to see the mainstream interpretation of something only seen in porn, but, boy, was I put off by the lethargic pace, this dude who is so SO into himself that he believes it would be fun to watch him the whole time, however inconsequential his deeds. Watch Vincent do this, watch Vincent do that. The biggest egomaniac of all. Looks like FACEBOOK THE MOVIE featuring a motorcycle racer. Minus any excitement except Chloe - but wade in after her at your own risk. Not worth the bother. The movie is so bad it looks like maybe perhaps at the DVD store the guys broke the original Hollywood movie and quickly made a replacement. You're going to feel like the dumbest fool for watching. I kid you not.If they showed this on TV with ad breaks, the commercials would be the high point of the show. The weather forecast would hold your interest a whole lot more. You would be asleep long before the BJ.And if you wanna see hot chicks doing that stuff, try Hustler's Barely Legal, Vivid, Private and Digital Playground.

After racing in New Hampshire, the lonely motorcycle racer Bud Clay (Vincent Gallo) drives his van in a five-day journey to California for the next race. Along his trip, he meets fan, lonely women, prostitutes, but he leaves them since he is actually looking for the woman he loves, Daisy (Chloë Sevigny). He goes to her house and leaves a note telling where he is lodged. Out of the blue, Daisy appears in his hotel room and soon he learns why he cannot find her."The Brown Bunny" is an independent very low budget movie by Vincent Gallo. The plot is developed in slow pace and is dull and boring in many moments. The revelation of Daisy's secret is totally unexpected. However the movie has become famous only because of the unnecessary fellatio of Chloë Sevigny, maybe to satisfy Vincent Gallo's ego, since does not add anything but a polemic scene to this movie in a poor hype. My vote is five.Title (Brazil): Not available on DVD or Blu-Ray

The Satellite of Love crew would've had a field day. Manos: The Hands of Fate's opening scene stretched amongst about 60 min of film. Wait, there's more! Within the first 2/3s of the film we have the hero do amazing things! He buys gasoline & Chinese food! He drinks coffee! He buys a Coke! He takes a shower! He kisses a complete stranger in a park! But wait! There's more! Most importantly, he drives! And drives and drives. And then…drives some more. Watching someone drive such a distance is like watching someone read for an hour. I have read reviews where people complain nothing happens. I laugh at the movies they pick for these comments? They need to go back to edit their reviews on those movies. This could've been rated G until the finale, a completely unnecessary sexual scene (or two). We get the point; we get to the surprise twist. I watched to the end, every minute of his journey from the East to the West; his loneliness. Yes, I liked the ending, the reason for all the madness but for shock value alone was the graphic closing scenes. I gave it 1.5/5, an additional .5 for the meaning at the end. I'll be kind & save you some time? He is lonely and depressed, he drives and if you can skip to the final 2-3 scenes, you'll understand why & save yourself 1.25 hours of watching one drive to get to the point. I have two side notes: #1 I am a true believer in extras on a DVD, the delete scenes, the making-of, etc, and thank GOD, this had no delete scenes? Boy, anyone could do without extra **exciting** hours of driving from Albuquerque 2 Vegas. And #2, though I love Las Vegas scenes in movies – I'm a gambler, sue me- he would've taken a long detour to go from where he was headed to Sin City. Don't screenplay writers ever research their material, their physical journeys before putting pen to paper? This is a story of one man, his journey and a director's vision of hard porn for about 3 min. Buckle up, it's gonna take you 90 min to get what you rented the film for.

Roger Ebert called this the worst movie ever to appear at Cannes and the writer of Beneath the Valley of the Dolls knows crap when he sees it. Vincent Gallo - who wrote, directed, produced and edited this item, probably in his garage - stars as a motorcycle racer who drives across the country to compete in California. He drives. And drives. And drives. And considering that he is supposed to be a professional racer, he doesn't seem to have much enthusiasm for it, or flair, and this is a key failing. Racers are speed demons and daredevils. Dale Earnhardt would trade paint with you in a supermarket parking lot. Gallo makes the act of piloting a vehicle about as exciting as washing one.The road movie as existential quest has a long cinematic tradition, and this means that any new entry in the field needs to achieve genuine novelty or risk being trite. Yet, with its hand-held camera shots of Gallo driving in medium closeup, most of the film comes off like a drive cross country with your uncle, complete with randomly bad song choices and fly splatters on the windshield. Like a lot of indie films, this one tries to make a virtue of its lack of conventional film aesthetics and its grungy production values, as if this somehow makes it 'realistic'. Reality, of course, is boring. Thus 'realism' is only a worthy goal if its makes the fiction more compelling. Very little in this film is in any way compelling. The storytelling certainly isn't, as next to nothing happens. We get occasional glimpses of Gallo interacting with random women along the way, and some of the moments quietly yet articulately convey his character's pain and neediness. Unfortunately, this only serves to remind us that when he is alone in the scene, we get nothing from him as an actor. What we get is dead air. Note to Gallo: fiction is supposed to be interesting. And his portrayal of an emotionally bled out loner just isn't. He fails to make his character even minimally sympathetic or interesting, and thus although the viewer recognizes that his journey is a search for meaning in a life gone somehow off the rails, that viewer doesn't really care. Gallo could find the meaning of life or drive into the ocean with equally uninspiring results. In short, the film fails as a character study as thoroughly as it fails as a road movie. There is little to see, and even less to contemplate as we go along on this American odyssey. I suggest counting the windshield bugs.If you must watch this dog, look for Cheryl Tiegs as a woman sitting at a bench at a roadside rest stop. Yeah, sure, EVERY rest stop has a retired supermodel hanging out there. Highways are thick with 'em. Anyway, she hits the perfect note as a wary, yet in her own way needy person when she meets Gallo. Moments like these in the film hint that there was the germ of a successful idea here. Gallo lacked either the vision or the discipline to carry it through over the film's length. Filmmaking is generally a collaborative exercise. Indie artists decry Hollywood's committee approach as an artistic melting pot that confines cinematic mavericks. This is certainly true. It has the advantage, however of creating checks on directionlessness and egomania, and I suspect that a trusted collaborator could have pointed out the flaws in Gallo's approach before he exposed them on film. Ebert was right. This thing sorely needed a better edit. There was probably a pretty decent ten minute short in there someplace.What truly shocked me about this film was not the brief explicit scene - if indie film artists want to use sex to distinguish themselves from Hollywood's puritan wary mainstream, they should go right ahead. What was shocking about The Brown Bunny was that it cost $10 million, or roughly the budget of Pulp Fiction, to produce a movie that looked like somebody's film school thesis project, and which was thoroughly hated by 90% of those who saw it.If the road trip really is a metaphor for the pursuit of meaning, then Gallo got nowhere because this movie is pretty much lacking it.