‘Delicatessen’ (1991) is such a strange and eclectic film that an attempt to describe it with any amount of brevity would be futile. Yet one thing about it is clear:’ Never has a film that is ostensibly about cannibalism been so downright delightful.
A directorial collaboration between Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Juenet, who is also the director of ‘Amelie,’ this post-apocalyptic comedy/musical/drama sings with rhythm and life while simultaneously establishing an atmosphere of fear, darkness and suspicion. Walking a fine line between surreal and absurd, its vague politics and dark premise do very little to ruin the fun. And in this film, there is plenty of fun to be had.
The protagonist, Louison, an unemployed former clown, arrives at a dilapidated apartment building in a bombed-out urban wasteland, responding to a want-ad concerning work in exchange for room and board. There’s just one minor caveat to this deal:’ In this building, the weakest of tenants are lured at night into the central staircase and slaughtered for meat by the landlord. Clapet, the domineering landlord and butcher, has gained his authority through serving up the building’s residents at his meat shop, Delicatessen.
While the clown settles into his new life performing odd jobs around the building, Clapet’s kind-hearted and almost blind daughter, Julie, takes a liking to him. Despite her awkward and persistent attempts at a warning, Louison remains completely oblivious to the butcher’s plans to ‘serve’ him. Julie thus sets out to contact a (literally) underground vegan movement of ‘troglodytes’ in order to save her beloved from her increasingly unstable and cleaver-happy father.
In exchange for her father’s secret stash of money ‘- the currency of choice in post-apocalyptic France is apparently grain ‘- these commun ‘- ahem, vegan aberrants agree to rescue Louison by staging a daring yet ridiculously ill-advised kidnapping attempt.
The antics of this new French resistance, coupled with those of the building’s delightfully quirky group of tenants, quickly move the film into the realm of madness.
A querulous family that fears Grandma may become their next meal, a seductress who is strangely fixated on her squeaky mattress springs, a highly irritable luger-wielding postman, a schizophrenic housewife with a penchant for elaborate yet ultimately unsuccessful suicide attempts, and a mysterious frog-eating recluse round out the film’s highly bizarre dramatis personae.
One of the film’s greatest strengths is the fact that it cultivates each of these memorable personalities. Each one has a place in the insanity before it’s all over, and the cast’s strong performances keep the film grounded through all of the erratic twists.
But for all of the richness of the film’s writing, its bizarre and darkly absurd visual atmosphere ensures the film’s images are memorable. The limited setting of the confines of the apartment building accentuate the brilliant set design. Each tenant’s space is unique in decor and reflects his or her personality, while the building as a whole is a character itself with its incomprehensible angles, rich colors, and haphazard design. Bizarre cinematography adds to the effect; strange angles and distortion that would otherwise be tacky are quite appropriate here, and when added to the mix, make for a visually fascinating film.
Sound, though, is the film’s strongest device. Though not really a musical ‘- there is no singing or choreographed dance ‘- clever sound design is employed to transform mundane events into rousing musical numbers. This ‘Stomp’-like medley of domestic and industrial rhythms is another element of the film that would normally seem tasteless, but in this case is too appropriate to displease. Sequences of the building’s inhabitants unconsciously swaying in step to Louison and Julie’s duets ‘- she plays the cello and he a saw ‘- are as beautiful as they are strange.
That marriage of the beautiful and the bizarre is exactly what makes ‘Delicatessen’ so enjoyable. It’s quirky without seeming contrived, strange yet accessible, political without being patronizing, and disturbing without being bleak. It’s among the lightest of dark comedies and likely the most heartwarming post-apocalyptic vision ever conceived.’

‘- Taylor Adams reviews DVDs available at Snell Library and can be reached at [email protected].