Directed by and starring Vincent Gallo, Buffalo ’66 is a raw, emotionally complex indie film that blends dark humor, awkward tenderness, and haunting loneliness into a story that feels both strangely intimate and bracingly original. It’s a movie about misfits—damaged people trying to make connections in a cold, unfeeling world—and it remains one of the most unforgettable cult films of the late ’90s.

The story follows Billy Brown (Gallo), who’s just been released from prison after serving five years for a crime he didn’t commit. Awkward, bitter, and emotionally stunted, Billy’s first act as a free man is to kidnap a young tap dancer, Layla (played by Christina Ricci), and force her to pretend to be his wife during a visit to his emotionally abusive parents. What begins as a bizarre, borderline surreal act of desperation gradually evolves into an unexpectedly tender and oddly believable love story.

What sets Buffalo ’66 apart is its deeply personal style and emotional vulnerability. Vincent Gallo’s performance as Billy is one of the most uncomfortable and affecting portrayals of male insecurity and childhood trauma on screen. He’s cruel and erratic, yet heartbreakingly fragile, and Ricci’s Layla, with her soft curiosity and detached calmness, becomes the surprising emotional anchor. Their chemistry is strange, but it works, precisely because it’s not conventional—there’s tension, discomfort, and then, slowly, a kind of rescue.

Visually, the film is a standout. Gallo, working with cinematographer Lance Acord, uses desaturated colors and inventive framing to give the film a washed-out, dreamlike look that mirrors Billy’s internal state. The soundtrack—featuring moody tracks by Yes, King Crimson, and Gallo himself—deepens the atmosphere, especially during the now-iconic slow-motion bowling alley scene with Ricci dancing to “Moonchild.”

There’s no clear resolution or easy redemption here. Buffalo ’66 is about the yearning for love when you’ve never truly felt it, about how two broken people might, in the quietest ways, start to heal each other. Gallo’s film may be abrasive and messy, but beneath its rough surface lies a wounded, poetic soul.

For fans of offbeat romances and emotionally raw storytelling, Buffalo ’66 is a must-see—flawed, fascinating, and wholly unforgettable.