Eating Raoul

With filmmakers so cynical and despairing today about America, it's refreshing to see a film with so much faith in the American dream. This is a classic tale of rags to riches, of a respectable married couple, down on their financial luck, who, with initiative and a novel idea, manage to fulfil their dream, a hotel in the country. If, to get there, they must pose as bondage merchants, murder their clients, rob their wallets, give the bodies to a petty thief who sells them to dog-food companies as choice meat, than such is the nature of success.

RAOUL declares itself as a true story from the Sodom and Gomorrhah of Hollywood, where fantastic wealth co-exists with degrading poverty. The film is a moral tale, about steering the middle-course, about what it takes to be normal and decent. It plays like straight John Waters, but just as hysterical, even if, eventually, it cannot sustain itself.

The featured couple are called, appropriately, the Blands, and it is significant that their serial-killing weopon is a lethal frying-pan. Paul, played by the director, is the epitome of his name: balding, pedanctic, so obsessed with fine wines that he gets fired from his low-rent off-licence for over-ambition. His wife, Mary, is less bland, which is why she is more easily tempted by the dark side. While Paul remains sweetly virginal, she, a hospital nutritionist, works in an evnironment where she is continually harrassed by lecherous lotharios, and is knowledgeable enough to know that the most humiliating revenge is to have them receive their enema from a burly dandy.

Bartel is a Roger Corman alumnus, and this can be seen in the fluid, economical filming, the functional set-ups that are actually quite complex. The film's very classical structure is at odds with (piecemeal) filming that has characters seem, ineptly, to wander up to the camera, although this has the unsettling effect of making the creepy nonsense seem curiously real.

There is also a hint of suppressed Gothic in the telling - Mary's hysterical normality is so camp she could be Vampira - while the Blands' blandness is under attack from all sides. It's bad enough to have 'swingers' (a charmingly 50s word for perverts that chimes with the Blands' adorably tasteless 50s furniture left them by Mary's mother until she dies) crowding the tenement for sleazy, Warholian, sado-masochistic parties, but to have one of them storm into your apartment, throw up all over your carpet, nearly die in your lavatory, bring your husband to the party to be humiliated/initiated by Doris the Dominatrix, and then come back to violate your wife, is an imposition.

The film makes satirical points enough - the rich and professional classes are all vile, violent sleazes, while the S&M 'sickos' are sweet, loving mothers who live in pleasant suburban avenues so indifferent to capitalist Darwinism that they help out the competition. The racism needed to keep normality normal is shown in the horrifyingly hilarious shooting of a store-robber, or in the final fate of self-confessed 'Chicano' Raoul, which suggest Peter Greenaway might be a fan of the film. The cannibalism theme has a long satirical history in jibes on the bourgeoisie, and it's no surprise to learn that Bartel is a devotee of Bunuel.

But the film's real satire is to show how normality must survive in a society, Hollywood, that has obliterated any recognised sense of reality.

Eating Raoul is so eager to please and never overstays its welcome. Shot for what seems to be $3, it's amazing that the film turns out as nice and polished as it is. Paul Bartel and Mary Woronov play the aptly named Blands. They dream to, one day, start their own eatery, but it seems as if it's just not in the cards for them. After a mix up, they end up accidentally killing a man and, thinking he's a nobody, they take his wallet. At that moment, a brilliant business plan is born and the Blands pose as sexual deviants to lure people to their homes, kill them (with a frying pan) and steal their money. Things get complicated when a young man named Raoul discovers their secret and wants in on their scheme.

The basic concept of Eating Raoul is so damn goofy that it's amazing it works as well as it does, but Bartel and Woronov smartly play everything super straight and it works.

If you consider yourself a dark comedy fan and haven't seen this movie, you need to change that right now.

The late Paul Bartel made several interesting and overlooked cult movies in his sadly too short career, including his exploitation classic collaboration with the legendary Roger Corman 'Death Race 2000', but of all his movies he will be remembered for this one, 'Eating Raoul', a minor masterpiece. Shot on a shoe string budget as a real labor of love it is still one of the most entertaining black comedies ever made. Bartel himself co-stars with the tasty Mary Woronov (Warhol's 'Chelsea Girls'), who he had previously acted with in the wonderful romp 'Rock'n'Roll High School' among other things. They show lots of on screen chemistry and make a delightful team, something they obviously realized themselves as they went on to work together several times after this. However they were never better together than in this movie as the uptight but sweet Blands. The Blands have ambitions to open up their own restaurant but have limited means at their disposal. By accident they stumble across a way to get the cash they need using swingers whom they detest. All goes to plan until they encounter the shady locksmith Raoul (Robert Beltran, best known now to Trekkers worldwide). Things then start to get a little more complicated. The three actors seem to love working together and this gives the movie an added zest. The script in witty and unpredictable, and there are some funny bits from the supporting cast, especially Pee-wee Herman sidekick John Paragon as a pushy sex store clerk, and Ed Begley, Jr ('Meet The Applegates') as a horny hippie. This is a wonderful movie, a real comedy gem, that I highly recommend. Paul Bartel R.I.P.

One of the greatest comedies ever made (right up there with National Lampoon's Vacation, Caddyshack, Dumb and Dumber, and Clerks) that really makes a strong statement about swingers, s&m, rape, murder, and cannibalism without becoming tasteless. This is Bartel's greatest accomplishment. A major cult hit and deservingly so.

* * * *

This movie keeps ending up on my top ten list, no matter how many others come and go with the years. Director Paul Bartel began with a ridiculous premise, and then had everyone play it perfectly straight, which resulted in a comedy that doesn't telegraph its laughs. It's evident that the film was lovingly polished (again) in postproduction, down to the level of tiny incidental sound effects that add immeasurably to the hilarity if you happen to catch them. The story is full of murders, but there's no gore 'n guts here; it's all as discreet as an Agatha Christie novel, where Death is tastefully signaled by a thud from another room. EATING RAOUL is an excellent introduction to the topics of Los Angeles, food, swingers, and real estate loans, and resist as you may, you'll end up cheering for Paul and Mary as they work toward their dream of opening their very own restaurant.