Delicatessen (1991) [Blu-ray]
Comedy | Fantasy
Tagline: A futuristic comic feast
From the director of Amelie, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, comes a post-apocalyptic comedy that's both bitingly hilarious and absolutely one-of-a-kind. When meat becomes so rare that it is used as currency, residents living above a deli must depend on a menacingly
strange butcher (Jean-Claude Dreyfus) for their supply. But when a new talent (Dominique Pinon) arrives and takes a job as the building's handyman, he unknowingly steps into the butcher's trap... to serve him as the next meal!
Storyline: The story is centered on a microcosm of a post-apocalyptic society where food is so rare it's invaluable and is used as currency. The story centers on an apartment building with a delicatessen on the ground floor. The
owner of the eatery also owns the apartment building and he is in need of a new maintenance man since the original "mysteriously" disappeared. A former clown applies for the job and the butcher's intent is to have him work for a little while and then
serve him to quirky tenants who pay the butcher in, of course, grain. The clown and butcher's daughter fall in love and she tries to foil her father's plans by contacting the "troglodytes", a grain eating sub-group of society who live entirely
underground. The "trogs" are possibly the most sensible of the lot, as they see food as food and not money. Written by Anonymous
Reviewer's Note: Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman, September 25, 2010 -- In the long and storied history of international film, there have been perhaps surprisingly few pairs who collaborated together as co-directors. In fact,
probably the only such pairing that will immediately spring to most people's minds is the iconic Archers duet of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. But in the early to mid-1990s, another pair appeared briefly on the scene, sharing credit on two
somewhat linked films, Delicatessen and The City of Lost Children. These post-apocalyptic fantasies share several common elements, including some cast members, but their unity of vision and technique can probably be squarely traced to the
two men behind the camera (in both directorial and co-scenarist roles, indeed much like Powell and Pressburger), Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet. If Caro's name doesn't immediately ring any bells, Jeunet went on to several high profile films, including
Alien Resurrection (for which Caro provided storyboards) and the charming Amélie and A Very Long Engagement. On the SD-DVD of The City of Lost Children, star Ron Perlman in his often very funny commentary, begins his monologue
with something along the lines of, "Here's the very strange opening of the film." (Pause). "Which is followed by the very strange middle section and, finally, the very strange ending." That same précis could well be used for Delicatessen, a
film which manages to combine a sort of Sweeney Todd plotline with a low-fi post-apocalyptic feel that is strangely redolent of mid-1960s American International films like Panic in the Year Zero.
In a dusty yellow Brazil-esque post-apocalyptic future, where of course everything from phones to cars looks like it came out of the 1940s-1950s, the butcher Clapet (Jean-Claude Dreyfus) has found a ready supply of meat for his customers, namely a
seemingly endless array of maintenance assistants he hires to help take care of his apartment building where the butcher shop occupies the ground floor. Delicatessen opens with the unfortunate demise of the latest of these assistants, and soon a
new recruit, Louison (Dominique Pinon) has arrived, unaware that this welcomed job offering has a rather unseemly ulterior motive. Unfortunately for Clapet, soon Louison and Clapet's daughter, Julie (Marie-Laure Dougnac), strike up a friendship which soon
blossoms into a rather awkward romance. (This sort of stuttering relationship seems to be a regular feature of Jeunet's films, from Lost Children through Engagement, not to mention Amélie, of course). Julie is aware of her father's
plans for Louison and she soon hatches a plan with a literally underground group of (vegetarian) rebels to help preserve her lover's life.
Delicatessen is full of the sly, and extremely understated, humor that also colored The City of Lost Children. This is not the in your face comedy that tends to "tart up" American releases. Instead, it's quieter moments like the ostensible
taxi cab which Louison takes to get to the butcher shop early in the film, which Louison himself is pushing, as the taxi driver steers. The driver then charges him for the privilege of pushing his luggage to the destination. Delicatessen is a
frankly odd, yet often extremely charming, film which teeters on the edge of political incorrectness virtually all of the time, but which due to its almost childlike innocence, never really seems smarmy or unseemly.
Pinon, who has been such a bizarre yet lovable feature in other Jeunet films like Lost Children and Amélie (he was also the wheelchair bound mechanic Vriess in Alien Resurrection), brings the perfect amount of whimsy to the role of
Louison, playing on the character's past as a circus clown to create some odd, yet magical, moments, such as filling soap bubbles with cigarette smoke. Contrasting that is Dreyfus' boorish and nefarious Clapet, who nonetheless comes off as a sort of
doddering, often very funny, oafish idiot a la Brutus in the old Popeye cartoons.
A lot of this film indeed plays out like a cartoon, with an emphasis on action instead of dialogue. One of the film's most famous sequences, which was used for the theatrical trailer, is simply a marvelously edited montage of the apartment house
dwellers rhythmically going about their various chores in time with Clapet's vicious sex act above them. It's both comical and slightly horrifying at the same time, something this film manages to achieve regularly throughout its relatively short running
time.
If you've seen either the Caro-Jeunet The City of Lost Children, or any of Jeunet's fantasy laden films since then, you have at least an inkling of what to expect in Delicatessen. If you're new to these directors, prepare yourself for a very
strange trip through a surreal world where everything is just this side of hallucinogenic, yet which makes sense within the context of its own insanity. It's a "rare" achievement, more often than not "well done."
Delicatessen may not be everyone's cup of tea (so to speak), but for those who enjoy black comedy, it's a very tasty morsel and is certainly one of the more unique films of the relatively recent past. This Blu-ray offers a considerable upgrade in
image and audio quality from the previous home video releases (though curmudgeons will probably take issue with the softness which accompanies the many mist-laden shots). Recommended.
[CSW] -4.6- This one-of-a-kind dark comedy was one of the best I have ever seen. Although I'm sure that there were several French references that I missed because I don't read French and other French resistant references that I only vaguely grasp, it was
none the less still a great comedy and I'm not a big comedy fan.
[V3.5-A4.0] MPEG-4 AVC
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