How many films can Vinny make about male menopause? Lower testosterone,receding gums... Getting old sucks but the Dago Woody Allen will have a difficult time re-inventing himself next time: "The Prostate Affair (Always Gotta Go)" written and directed by Vincent Gallo.Plus how did he get away with a real porn scene? Wouldn't that make the movie X-rated? Seriously, this guy is Woody Allen born Italian Catholic. Like Camille Paglia and Anna DiFranco, still unwashed wops from the provinces of upstate NY. Christ, am I glad I was born and braised in NYC.Have cousins in Middletown...I don't know, out-of-towners are destroying NYC.

A terribly boring film. Though it do has a story to tell, it barely covers any sort of a storyline... At times this makes it hard to sit through. Nevertheless, it is a movie that had to and was bound to be made, as the idea comes through well; and an emotional state which is kind of complex, is portrayed silently, without much interaction, and then, in the end, the reasons and history are revealed. If you look at only certain parts of the film it might seem as if it were but hours of driving, a little atmospheric in a way, but far from enough to give a reason to sit through the whole film... The whole film has an amateur feeling, meaning that there is nothing special in the screenplay, cinematography, or music -- the story itself has one or two lines that are pretty original, though, and around the end it becomes unusually explicit, which gives a slightly realistic vibe to it all in all.

I guess a lot of people were drawn to this movie because of some explicit images of Chloë Sevigny. This is in my opinion the most exciting moment of the movie. The rest is diluted in Vincent Gallo's character self-pity. After a third of the movie it is clear that he is suffering, but the time spent on describing it was far too long.On the other hand, i had the impression that the opening sequence got copied in the opening sequence of Sofia Coppola's Somewhere (2010). This must be a sign of it's importance in the history of movie making. The atmosphere and slow pace are in line with contemporary tendencies in art-house cinema, i.e. putting the average viewers to sleep.All in all, the plot was not bad, but was more suitable for a short movie.

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.