Immediately upon seeing the opulently prepared food, knowing it would be rendered into refuse as the story progressed, I was reminded of a long-time favorite of mine, the Peter Greenaway film, “ The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover ” (1989). As a person with a deeply ingrained appreciation for the pleasures of food, not only for nourishment and enjoyment of it, but as a rich and sumptuous visual metaphor, this movie fed my art-house cravings.

Artist and filmmaker Peter Greenaway had made five feature length films and numerous shorts before "The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover" in 1989. Experimental in nature and far from being commercial or structurally traditional, Greenaway followed in the footsteps of abstract artists that challenged their artforms by introducing ideas what were not frequently explored. He had stated that most cinema has been a retelling of novels but in a visual medium, and that there was little to be excited about by its straightforward and linear structural state. His early features "The Draughtsman's Contract" (1982), "A Zed & Two Noughts" (1985), "The Belly of an Architect" (1987), and "Drowning by Numbers" (1988) were critical hits, with the last two nominated for the Palme d'or at the Cannes Film Festival and Greenaway winning the Best Artistic Contribution prize for "Drowning in Numbers" there. But this was only the beginning. "The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover" was bigger, bolder, more extravagant, more daring, and eventually more controversial than anything he had done on film up to that point. Peter Greenaway has said that the Jacobean play 'Tis Pity She's a Whore provided him with the main template for his screenplay. [4] Music [ edit ] The central theme of food is a subject of earthly needs and desires, but also of excess and greed. Sensuality can be found in finely presented feasts, and sexual drives are aligned with the need to be fed an most basic urges, a thought so inelegantly expressed by Spica himself as he states “The naughty bits and the dirty bits are so close together that it just goes to show how eating and sex are related”. The affair and the meeting of sweating, naked flesh occurs in uncomfortable proximity to the food that will be used by the kitchen – the storeroom full of cured meats and bins of uncovered food is notable, and creates a feeling that the lovers themselves are, in this moment, the feast. Interlaced with images of knives reducing food to component parts, focus on the shapes of food that are meant to mimic genitals and set a threatening aura that highlights the danger and the urgency of their trysts. All the while, the rich and saturated use of color spills everywhere.

Contribute to This Page

They hide for a time in the bookstore, which Georgina cannot fathom. “What good are all these books to you? You can’t eat them.”. Food is desire; how can he remain enthralled by something so ethereal? Yet books are symbolic of intellect, a facet of self that Spica has no hope of owning. He uses this symbol so dear to The Lover to extinguish his life; it is appropriate that it is food, the symbol of his carnality literally embodied by that same Lover, that is a participant in Spica’s undoing. Overcome with rage and grief, she begs Boarst to cook Michael's body, and he eventually complies. Together with all the people that Spica wronged throughout the film, Georgina confronts her husband finally at the restaurant and forces him at gunpoint to eat a mouthful of Michael's cooked body. Spica obeys, gagging. Georgina then shoots him in the head, calling him a cannibal.

Greenaway’s formalism is manifested from the opening shot of the film— The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover doesn’t break the fourth wall, because no such barrier exists here in the first place. The sets are overtly theatrical, with carefully color-coded production design and costuming (the latter by none other than Jean-Paul Gaultier). Sascha Vierny’s extraordinary cinematography and Michael Nyman’s minimalistic score both help to tie everything together. Greenway fills the frame with a myriad of references, allusions, and even the occasional visual or verbal pun. He cheekily allows Flemish painter Hans Ral’s The Banquet of the Officers of the St George Militia Company in 1616 to dominate the central dining room of the restaurant, without explaining that Ral painted the members of the same company in 1627 and 1639 while wearing different colored sashes—an obscure reference which explains what happens to the sashes worn by Spica’s gang as they move from room to room. Even Albert’s name uses wordplay to conceal an ironic reference: “Spica” is an anagram of “aspic,” and aside from the gastronomic reference, there’s also no dandy in this particular aspic. For a film that throws such an abundance of blood, bodily fluids, and rotting flesh at the screen, nothing can be taken at face value. Audio is offered in English 2.0 DTS-HD Master Audio with optional English subtitles. This is the original theatrical Dolby Stereo matrixed four-channel mix, and it has a nice sense of spaciousness when decoded. The surrounds are primarily used for ambience, but they make the large spaces such as the kitchen feel truly cavernous—it’s still an immersive mix, even with limited directional effects. The dialogue is clear, and Michael Nyman’s classic score sounds superb.

The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover is a 1989 crime drama art film written and directed by Peter Greenaway, starring Richard Bohringer, Michael Gambon, Helen Mirren and Alan Howard in the title roles. An international co-production of the United Kingdom and France, the film's graphic violence and nude scenes, as well as its lavish cinematography and formalism, were noted at the time of its release. Groves, Don (13 December 1989). " 'Future II' hot, 'Oliver & Co.' surges in Europe". Variety. p.40.

As seen immediately, in the film, The Cook, The Theif, The Wife & Her Lover takes great advantage of the use of color. The last film I can think of that uses color so overwhelmingly is Bergmans Cries and Whispers, where he drowns the audience with red. What I found stunning in this film was that the scenes were so beautiful while all taking place in-doors, in fact the only ugly scenes were the outdoor ones, which took barely any screen time. The controversy of the film comes from the content seen. The cruelty of the mob boss towards others including his wife Georgina is very disturbing, as he has no trouble with hitting her, then grabbing her, caressing her monstrously, and somehow justifying his actions as right while his gang and others look on with somewhat fake smiles. Not everyone thinks the same, as the chef is a sympathetic person, who helps those receiving abuse when the boss is not looking. When the affair starts between Georgina and Michael, he is helpful in getting the two lovers to hide while Albert roams around screaming his head off. In addition to the violent acts, the sexuality is also part of the controversial nature. Though none of what is shown is explicit, there is both male and female nudity seen in both sexual form and in cruel form such as in the opening sequence. In addition there are a lot of uncomfortable scenes such as maggot infested meat and the climactic final feast which won't be spoiled here, but may spoil some appetites of viewers who see it.Michael Gambon as Albert Spica, "The Thief": A violent gangster and owner of "Le Hollandais", with pretensions of being a gourmet, but his coarse and violent behavior wreaks destruction on everyone around him. Stunningly photographed by Sacha Vierny, this unnerving film takes place mostly in a cavernous French restaurant called Le Hollandais. The main room is dominated by a 1616 painting by the Dutch artist Frans Hals, A Banquet of the Officers of the St. George Civic Guard Company. The dignity of the officers as they sup is a stark contrast to the crudity of the hoods who chow down before it. The documentary was previously available part of the Umbrella Entertainment 3-disc DVD Peter Greenway Collection which included "The Draughtman's Contract", "A Zed & Two Noughts" and the third disc containing the documentary. Shot entirely on Elstree’s stage six, the story unfolds during line evenings at an exclusive French restaurant where the Thief hangs out with his scummy gang of cut-throats, regaling them with his obscene vanities and diabolic table manners, and casually brutalising his long-suffering Wife (Mirren).