The original 124 minute cut of Paul Greenaway’s 1989 film was given an X rating for its sexuality and violence. And at the time, this was likely an apt rating for the films prolonged sexual escapades and climatic cannibalistic entrée. Michael Gambon demands his screen time as the brash, overbearing, insult-slewing thief. His wife, Helen Mirren, is surrounded by decadence in food and fashion despite her fleeting moments of being clothed. Her lover, a bookworm/book depository owner finds moments of her company hidden within the restaurant.
The restaurant, home of the four namesake characters, is a lavish and baroque set piece. In turn, the set itself is divided into four parts. The alley; a dark disgusting home to a pair of trucks filled with rotting food and home to a pack of roving canines. The kitchen; a green workshop of pots, pans, servants, fowl, bread, and all manner of food preparation debauchery is fitting transition into the dining room. This blood-red room plays host to Gambon’s petty gang whose threatening antics control the locale. And the stark-white coed bathroom is home to the beginning stages of Mirren’s dangerous affair.
Greenaway’s lavish film studies the dangers of food, of sex, and of violence. Aided by Michael Nyman’s dramatic and self-propelled score, the visual indulgence combined with the fluid elegance as characters stroll through the linear set creates an experience inspired by stage but unfit for anything but film. With hoards of opulent food, accents of hallucinogenic lighting, and scenes of passion and aggression, Greenaway’s film is a visual feast and experience for the senses. Much akin to A Zed and Two Noughts, this stimulating cinematic orgy demands an additional viewing.
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