Failing miserably to achieve the existential-racer-chic of “Two-Lane Blacktop,” yet not quite so awkwardly inept as the bored-road-sex turd that is “Twentynine Palms,” “The Brown Bunny” has a few moments, but is still an embarrassment. Somehow, only Michelangelo Antonioni and Gus Van Sant know how to make “these types” of movies work — I don’t know how they do it, but they do. A big problem with “The Brown Bunny” is that if your film is going to be (mostly) non-narrative and non-verbal, you’d best have a specific visual/design agenda. Gallo does not. Gallo’s “Buffalo ’66” is still a masterpiece, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and just chalk this up to failed concept and wish him better luck next time.