Vincent Gallo seemed to hit his peak when he made Buffalo 66. His broken character felt like a shadowy version of himself as he threatens, broods, kidnaps and looks like he would rather turn himself inside out then converse with anyone. But besides the pretty amazing artistic flourishes combined with gritty realism (which looking more like Vogue or GQ fashion spreads), this was a story coiled around revenge for a past gone wrong.

Looking back, this film is something of a time capsule for male instincts unchained which are weaved into white male rage, the Me Too movement, and Indy film scene. Take it in coldly or lap it up boldly, but do smoke that joint to the very end if you’re going to partake in this.