Blu-Ray Review: La Grande Bouffe

By Less Lee Moore

Towards the beginning of La Grande Bouffe one of the characters states, “Gentlemen, we are not here to have a vulgar orgy.” It is a droll bit of dialogue eventually revealed to be alarmingly ironic.

La Grande Bouffe, directed by Mario Ferreri, caused a huge scandal at when it premiered at Cannes in 1973, and even though it won the FIPRESCI prize, the film still rankled both audiences and critics. In his review at the time, Roger Ebert not only quoted from but also agreed with a colleague who said that La Grande Bouffe “reaffirms my faith that it is still possible to be offended by a film.”

With a build-up like that, I’m tempted to refrain from any plot synopsis whatsoever and let those curious types who are unfamiliar with La Grande Bouffe find out for themselves. When I requested a review copy from Arrow Films a few weeks ago, I recall thinking it sounded interesting, but when I put the disc in to watch, I must confess that I had almost completely forgotten the plot synopsis of the film. It was perhaps the best way to view it, but I’ll acquiesce to giving you a little something to chew on.

Four middle-aged and well-to-do men—Philippe, Michel, Marcello, and Ugo—convene at the unused, but decadently furnished, townhouse that belonged to Philippe’s father for a literal feast, hence the title of the film. A truck shows up with dozens of animal carcasses, while another offers boxes of dried fish, nuts, and fruits. There is much discussion from Ugo, the chef amongst the group, about how much preparation they must do, and one envies the four men a bit thanks to the townhouse’s sumptuous kitchen. At first this would seem to be a Same Time, Next Year male bonding scenario, except for the fact that Philippe was exceedingly hesitant to reveal exactly where he’s going to his nurse. If you think it’s strange that a middle-aged man still resides with his nurse or that she hand feeds him orange slices for breakfast, you’re not alone.

Marcello, the dashing airline pilot, has brought three large cheeses to the affair along with his rapacious sexual appetite, while Michel—he of the pink turtleneck and ambiguous sexual preferences—assures his coworkers at a TV station that they’ve got enough material for the next four weeks. We assume this is a bacchanal with no fixed end date.

Rather that get into the hows and whys of the gathering, it’s best to let the film reveal itself, although Ferreri is a master of subtlety on this point. Not so subtle are the near-constant scatological references (visual and aural), explicit sex scenes, and endless images of the men eating. Not just eating, mind you, but quite literally stuffing their faces full of food in nearly every frame. Indeed, it’s impossible to keep track of how many days have passed by the end of the movie’s somewhat overstuffed two hour and ten minute running time.

Perhaps that’s the point. As bizarre, grotesque, and possibly—depending upon your point of view—excessive La Grand Bouffe can be, it is also at times genuinely, gut-bustingly hilarious. As a strange counterpoint, it’s also beautifully shot, something made even more obvious by Arrow’s gorgeous 2K restoration from the original camera negative.

The film comes across much like an odd mixture of La Règle du jeu by way of Caligula with hints of The Exterminating Angel and The Big Chill, yet it is undeniably captivating. Critics seem divided on whether or not La Grande Bouffe is a satire about the bourgeoisie or simply a movie about four men getting together for gluttony’s sake, but it’s definitely not a film you will easily forget.

For this release, Arrow Films has put together a sumptuous collection of extras. Although director Ferreri passed away in 1997 and was unable to lend his thoughts to a full commentary track, there are several scene commentaries provided by Italian film scholar Pasquale Iannone, who also created a visual essay for the film. There is a French TV profile on Ferreri from 1975 and an excerpt from the TV series Couleurs autour d’un festival that includes interviews with the cast and crew recorded during the 1973 Cannes Film Festival.

The release includes a contemporaneous news report from the film’s Cannes premiere and behind-the-scenes footage of the making of the film, including interviews. Finally, the package boasts a reversible sleeve with the original art as well as newly commissioned artwork by Gilles Vranckx, plus a booklet with a new essay on the movie from Johnny Mains illustrated with original archive stills and posters.

La Grande Bouffe was released by Arrow Video and MVD Visual on August 18.