Eating Raoul (1982)

Writer-director Paul Bartel co-stars with statuesque Mary Woronov as a prudish married couple in Los Angeles who hope to someday open their own quaint restaurant. Funding proves to be their sticking point, until one night a calamitous run-in with a wealthy swinger gives the pair a twisted new idea. Uneven dark farce with the germ of a great comic premise--and blessed with the talented leads to nearly pull it off successfully. Woronov, with her incredulous sexiness, gets possibly her best screen role here, and her sisterly rapport with Bartel is perfect within this context. It's a very slight movie however, with small, quirky laughs sharing space with frantic gags and dumb jokes. Bartel (as a filmmaker) doesn't trust himself completely, and his pacing is so slow that many potentially funny lines or ideas are muffled. Still, the plot is worked out satisfyingly and the film's better moments stay in the memory. ** from ****

Fmovies: Paul Bartel's ultra-low budgeted quickie is still one of the best black comedies ever made, even though I found it less funny than when I first saw it, approximately ten years ago now. Then again, it was my very first "politically incorrect" comedy and I've seen many others since… This is a very charming film and the reasons why it works so well especially are the overly eccentric characters and the straight-faced acting performances of the talented B-cast. Writer/director Bartel and his favorite B-movie muse Mary Woronov star as an uptight and exaggeratedly square couple, the Blands, who're social outcasts in the wild L.A. region. Paul and Mary dream of opening their own little restaurant in the countryside but they have trouble financing it, while so many "swingers" waste their money on parties and bizarre sexual fetishes. After a first – and accidental – homicide, Paul and Mary find out that they could make easy money by luring more perverts to their apartment and kill them. The situation gets more complicated when Latino-crook Raoul discovers what the couple is doing. There aren't any special effects or gore and the set pieces aren't at all spectacular…and yet this little gem is entertaining from start to finish! Especially the first half (when you make acquaintance with the bizarre Blands) is terrific, with brilliant dialogues and offensive – yet very clever – black humor. It's obvious that Paul Bartel was an acolyte of the all-mighty Roger Corman, since he manages to deliver a fun movie without a large budget being required. The gags are simple - often not more than the sound of a frying pan hitting a human head – but it works and the atmosphere is so tongue-in-cheek that you can't but love what you see. I do wish that the film had been a little longer, especially since the ending comes so abrupt! "Eating Raoul" also contains many interesting trivia aspects, like for example the name of the co-writer, Richard Blackburn. Especially when you're familiar with Blackburn's other (and only) film "Lemora: a Child's tale of the Supernatural", this screenplay is a giant change in style. The supportive cast is marvelous as well, with the dazzling Susan Staiger as "Doris the Dominatrix" and Ed Begley Jr. as a pot-smoking hippie! Good fun!

No other black comedy, except perhaps "War of the Roses" comes close to the originality and cleverness of "Eating Raoul". It is totally outrageous, and that is what elevates the film to greatness. Paul Bartel and Mary Woronov play the "Blands" to perfection, and the unbelievable supporting cast is icing on the cake. The movie is so quotable, "Do you realize we just made $500? Yea, just by killing people", it's amazing. Check the numerous quotes on IMDb and you will see what I mean. Each viewing uncovers something new and hilarious about "Eating Raoul", strong testimony for it deserving the title "gold standard" of black comedy. - MERK

Eating Raoul fmovies. Meet the Blands, the aptly named middle-aged square couple. He's a wine expert, she's a nurse, and they need money to finance their dream restaurant. Trouble is, they're barely making ends meet. What's worse, the apartment complex they live in is infested with swingers, back when swingers were as commonplace as yuppies are now. Mary and Paul find the answer to their problems when one of the swingers tries to put the moves on Mary in their apartment. Paul whacks him with a frying pan, killing him, and they discover the fella's carrying a lot of cash. Bingo! Light over heads! What makes this goofy premise work is the absolutely hilarious, dead-on, deadpan performances of Paul Bartel and Mary Woronov as the Blands. They don't give what you'd call comedic performances, but what they say and what they do seems funny, as they are a duo of decorum surrounded by a storm of decadence. Their performances, combined with a witty and biting (pardon the pun) script, make this an absolute delight, a must for lovers of off-beat movies.

The Basic plot: A bland couple, The Blands, composed of a wine fanatic and a shapely nurse , live in an apartment house filled with sex-pervert swingers , and when they want to go out and own a restaurant in the country ,but don't have enough money ,so they become bondage merchants who kill their clients for cash.But, Raoul, a handsome young thief, comes in and violates their plans.....

The praise: Dementedly funny,original and quirky, you really can swallow it up. The comic acting by Mary Woronov, Robert Beltran, Paul Bartel, and Doris the Dominatrix is perfect, and the satiric, ironic,darkly comic side is played to a luscious extent. The bondage merchant scenes are hilarious so much that I can't tell you, and the theme song adds deeply to the ironic side........Enjoy!

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.