A ragtag group of hustlers, blue-movie stars, and transsexuals, the colorful New York City characters in Dan Ireland's heartfelt misfire The Velocity Of Gary represent an odd throwback to the earnest dreamers of old Hollywood musicals and soapy '50s melodramas. Hopeless street urchins mired in a life of poverty, violence, and disease, they're still capable of seeing the city as a big movie set where they fancy themselves the stars. This sad interplay between fantasy and reality underlined Ireland's previous effort, The Whole Wide World, an incisive portrait of pulp writer Robert E. Howard, the reclusive Texan who channeled his demons into the swords and sorcery of the Conan The Barbarian stories, among others. Vincent D'Onofrio's ferociously physical performance dominated that film and he returns, to much lesser effect, in The Velocity Of Gary as the key player in an unusual love triangle. A bisexual porn star slowly deteriorating from the AIDS virus, he's flanked by a soft-spoken gay hustler (Thomas Jane) and a temperamental waitress (Salma Hayek) who compete for his affections. Their aching desire for D'Onofrio to reciprocate their love has the makings of a potentially bittersweet story, but Ireland and his first-time screenwriter, James Still, don't have a clear handle on the tone or the characters. None of the principals seem to belong together: D'Onofrio, a hugely charismatic actor, has rarely seemed this remote, Jane remains a cool enigma, and Hayek's non-stop histrionics are far from endearing. As a seedy, off-kilter slice-of-life, The Velocity Of Gary was made in the spirit of modern classics like Outrageous! and Paris Is Burning, but it doesn't approach their resonance.