Overview
When churlish mobster Albert Spica acquires an upscale French restaurant in London, he dines there nightly, effectively scaring off the clientele with his bad manners. His wife, Georgina, is especially disgusted by him, and soon begins an affair with regular guest Michael. Despite their best efforts to keep it secret, Spica learns about their trysts, and he plots a terrible revenge.
The scenery, the camera angles are a thrill.
And the rest is the aestheticization of trash.
** The Golden Week of the Grotesque.**
From now on, anyone who is not washed and dressed appropriately for dinner will pay for it. I'll have to give you lessons. I'll write them down, Georgina can print them: "Notes for gourmets." It's French for those who like to eat well. Right, Borst? Gourmets don't burp. On the contrary, on the contrary, they are just burping. It shows that you enjoy the food.
It turns out that I miss the theater. But this time, the theater, with all its inherent atmosphere and emotions, came to my house thanks to the recommendation of dear beth . And how I would love to watch this movie on the big screen, so that the emotions received would increase exponentially, but even now they have exceeded all possible levels of delight and pleasure.
This is a real feast in the name of hedonism. Subtle barbarism, sophistication in abomination, and numerous more enthusiastic epithets in the direction of everything disgusting in its essence, the concentration of all possible vices and thrilling beauty in every frame, every constructed composition.
I can't think of a single movie where everything that happens on the screen almost explodes from the synergy of violence, pure human filth and paradoxical touching sensuality from such a neighborhood. Well, the final scene simply drowns you in catharsis, forcing you to forget and beat off both palms in applause. It is a delight, terrifying in context, but therefore more powerful, more valuable. A real work of cinema art!