Directed by:
Paul BartelCinematography:
Gary ThieltgesComposer:
Arlon OberCast:
Mary Woronov, Paul Bartel, Robert Beltran, Richard Paul, Susan Saiger, Buck Henry, Ed Begley Jr., John Paragon, Richard Blackburn, Garry Goodrow, Allan Rich (more)Plots(1)
A sleeper hit of the early 1980s, Eating Raoul is a bawdy, gleefully amoral tale of conspicuous consumption. Warhol superstar Mary Woronov and cult legend Paul Bartel (who also directed) portray a prudish married couple who feel put upon by the swingers living in their apartment building. One night, by accident, they discover a way to simultaneously rid themselves of the “perverts” down the hall and realize their dream of opening a restaurant. A mix of hilarious, anything-goes slapstick and biting satire of me-generation self-indulgence, Eating Raoul marked the end of the sexual revolution with a thwack. (Criterion)
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Reviews (2)
The Blands, an inconspicuous married couple played by Paul Bartel and Mary Woronov, chance upon an unconventional way to collect money to open their own restaurant. With that in mind, they set out to tap into Los Angeles locals’ moral decay. A very entertaining flickled by its central actor duo and Bartel’s subtle direction. I’m just slightly surprised that, after the movie was released, the US authorities didn’t introduce a firearm licence for kitchen pans! It’s a pity Eating Raoul went almost unnoticed on this side of the globe and is so underrated.
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Though the Roger Corman-produced Death Race 2000 remains unsurpassed as Bartel’s most entertaining, most biting and most timeless satire, his own independent project, Eating Raoul, is still a magnificently vicious piece of work. Inspired by the Ealing studio’s classic comedies, the film is reminiscent of John Waters’ later work, especially Serial Mom, in the way that it makes fun of its middle-class characters, conservatism, the American dream and, for that matter, the bizarreness of California. As the title suggests, the film unfolds mainly as a straightforward joke that does not aim to surprise or shock viewers, but rather to simply caustically incite and indecorously entertain them. In this respect, it accurately captures the personality of Bartel himself, who, unlike Waters, did not pander to bottom-dwelling tastelessness, but rather delighted in mocking conventionality, intrinsic amorality, concealed licentiousness and mainstream physicality with gourmet distinction. The filmmaker then takes the movie on his shoulders even in front of the camera, where he delivers another of his wonderfully restrained performances in completely absurd roles. As always, he is ably supported by the excellent Mary Woronov, with whom he formed an iconic duo in a number of bizarre pearls at the bottom of the trough of American low-budget trash cinema.
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