Nummy, nummy ….
One of the more difficult genres of story to review are what I might call black surrealism, and that’s where Delicatessen (1991) exists. It’s a movie which repays close attention because the detail the storytellers use is creative and thorough, but not necessarily repeated for the benefit of the casual viewer – in other words, you have to pay attention.
And you have to read the captioning, because this is in French.
In some alternate Universe, nuclear war came and went in the 1950s, and folks somewhere in France are short of food & hope. In an apartment building cum butcher shop, though, there’s meat, meat you don’t want to examine for its origins, paid for in grain, the new currency. The butcher, Clapet, has become a rich man, but this doesn’t make for a happy family, between a wife who despises him – I think – and a daughter, Julie, who is terrified of, well, everything. As one of the guests is exiting, a new guest arrives, Louison, a former circus star, who now offers to fix up the apartment building in return for living space.
Seeing both sides of the argument.
Things become crisply confusing quite quickly, as everyone in the apartment building reacts to the new guy: a chance for a way out, more wealth, a new sexual partner, meat. And then enters the … militant underground vegans.
Plenty of detail, plenty of plot mystery, and some good acting. Possibly my favorite was around for only a short time: I call him Mr. Eyes.
It requires a sense of whimsy, a willingness to play with taboos, and a lack of nausea; if you appreciated Eating Raoul (1982), then this is the surreal second cousin that dropped some acid.
Enjoy.
