‘Delicatessen’ REVIEW: A near-perfect blend of quirkiness and dystopia
‘Delicatessen’ REVIEW: A near-perfect blend of quirkiness and dystopia
Jean-Claude Dreyfus as Clapet in Delicatessen | Still taken from IMDb
What happens when a cannibal, a former circus clown, and a woman on edge, among others, live in the same building? In Jean Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro’s Delicatessen, we get a glimpse of that arrangement to the tune of an eccentric — almost goofy — desolation, where meat is now a rarity and lentils are used as a currency.
The film begins with a barren city of factories and concrete under a sepia tint. White clouds are replaced by smog, and clear air and optimism look nothing but far-off dreams to the city’s residents. Delicatessen further magnifies this through the diverse dwellers of a butcher-owned tenement.
In a pivotal prelude, one of the occupants attempts to escape the building by disguising himself as garbage and hiding in a bin. However, the butcher landlord Clapet (Jean-Claude Dreyfus) catches him and hacks him to pieces. As Clapet delivers his first chop, the intertitle is revealed.
The oddity element of the film is mainly seen in the close-up shots of the characters’ faces. These are done not just with basic cuts but also with the actual zooming movement itself. The close-ups are also weirdly angled, defying any form of symmetry. Some shots emphasize a character’s eye, sometimes a forehead, and even scenes where it’s just plainly slanted.
This would be an irk to some, but the intentionally crooked cinematography adds to the kookiness it wants to portray, an unusual breath of fresh air from the putrid despair outside the infamous building.
Dominique Pinon as Louison and Karin Viard as Mademoiselle Plusse in Delicatessen | Still taken from IMDb
One of the film’s charms was also its pseudo-musical scenes. Even with a lack of an extravagant score and appealing technicolor, the rhythmic sequences scratch an itch in my brain. Besides a woman rehearsing with her cello, the orchestra is basically just a renter dusting a carpet, someone repainting a wall, and even the squeaks from a bed. This was also a clever way to show the daily lives of those inhabiting the building.
The newest tenant is Louison (Dominique Pinon), a former circus member who came to reside in the complex as a maintenance man. Clapet was talking about the hopelessness of the world just before Louison arrived with an ambitious glint in his eyes, applying for the building maintenance job. It’s clear that Louison embodies hope and a positive shift to the lives of his fellow tenants. He performs a bubble show for children in the building, dances with a resident, and even goes on a date with the butcher’s daughter Julie (Marie-Laure Dougnac).
Though there were lighthearted quirks, the conflict was dark enough to balance it out. Marcel Tapioca (Ticky Holgado), one of the residents, is struggling to pay the debt he owes Clapet. The butcher threatens him that if he cannot pay, he would have to give up his mother-in-law (Edith Ker), citing that she would soon go bad and “won’t be good for more than marrow paste.” This suggests that they have resorted to eating people.
Another group is introduced, The Troglodytes, which is a rebel group of vegetarians who lives underground. When Julie realizes that her father is after Louison, she seeks the help of The Troglodytes to rescue Louison out of the building. But as simple as the rescue operation sounds, the execution of these scenes lacked clarity. The motivations of The Troglodytes were initially unclear, both in their principles in their rescue mission. It also doesn’t help that Julie struck a deal with them, leaving an impression that the group may either rescue or abduct Louison. And if it’s the latter, then what was the reason? What did they want from Louison?
The film is far from boring but it does also have its fair share of instances that disrupts the plot’s momentum. Some dialogues are clipped and too vague, failing to paint a clear picture of what a character plans to do. This ambiguity also translates to the arcs of the other residents. Their storylines were fleshed out evenly with the main protagonists, but their choices by the end of the film put a question mark on one’s head, and lack an explanation.
Nevertheless, Delicatessen is an odd delight which one should watch at least once in their lifetime. It seamlessly fuses a urine-dyed post-apocalyptic world with the whimsy of humanity’s dispositions. It’s smart, zany, and fresh — just like a deli.
Delicatessen screened at the 12th QCinema International Film Festival as part of the Rediscovery category.
