My review was written in May 1991 after a Cannes Film Festival (in competition) screening.
A mild scandal at this year's Cannes fest is Marco Ferreri's self-styled, indulgent exercise in absurdity, "La Carne". Meanderings over familiar Ferreri themes and fetishes is only fitfully amusing, with the Italian home audience its target.
Popular comic Sergio Castellitto plays a nightclub pianist/singer whose marriage has broken up. He's a hypochondriac attached to his dog, and is a loving dad on visiting days with his two kids.
Castellitto's life is turned around when he meets fleshy sexpot Francesca Dellera while performing in the club. After she talks to him of sex with her young guru from India he closes the club early and takes her to his beach house for some of that mad love so many filmmakers dote on in lieu of a storyline.
Film drifts into arbitrary dialog and incident at this point, with Dellera reversing the roles and making Castellitto her rigid sex object after touching the proper pressure points on his neck.
Between rambling philosophical discussions, empty symbolism of storks and sunsets, Ferreri finds time for the duo to eat while making love. There is only brief nudity of both, but Dellera strolls around in push-up bras that show off enough decolletage to please a local sex comedy audience.
Final twist of arbitrary murder and cannibalism is a guaranteed turn-off, lacking the force of Ferreri's memorable Gerard Depardieu self-castration finale in "The Last Woman".
Castellitto provides the requisite laughs with his goofy reactions to Dellera's off-the-wall behavior. She is a pale-skinned, kewpie doll beauty that becomes tiresome under constant camera fixation after the supporting cast is dispensed with. Concentration on the two stars is relieved only by interludes with a nursing mother on the beach, a lesbian who briefly joins the duo and a very funny visit from Castellitto's kids while he lies paralyzed on his back sporting an erection.
The director's intentional tastelessness has lost much of its shock value, so the off-screen death of Castellitto's dog from neglect is merely the pretext for a gag of Sergio literally in the doghouse when he tries out a new sexual position with Dellera.
Ennio Guarnieri's photography is mainly stark and functional, with the beach setting shot on sunny or overcast days at will. Other tech credits, including the direct sound recording, are pro.
A mild scandal at this year's Cannes fest is Marco Ferreri's self-styled, indulgent exercise in absurdity, "La Carne". Meanderings over familiar Ferreri themes and fetishes is only fitfully amusing, with the Italian home audience its target.
Popular comic Sergio Castellitto plays a nightclub pianist/singer whose marriage has broken up. He's a hypochondriac attached to his dog, and is a loving dad on visiting days with his two kids.
Castellitto's life is turned around when he meets fleshy sexpot Francesca Dellera while performing in the club. After she talks to him of sex with her young guru from India he closes the club early and takes her to his beach house for some of that mad love so many filmmakers dote on in lieu of a storyline.
Film drifts into arbitrary dialog and incident at this point, with Dellera reversing the roles and making Castellitto her rigid sex object after touching the proper pressure points on his neck.
Between rambling philosophical discussions, empty symbolism of storks and sunsets, Ferreri finds time for the duo to eat while making love. There is only brief nudity of both, but Dellera strolls around in push-up bras that show off enough decolletage to please a local sex comedy audience.
Final twist of arbitrary murder and cannibalism is a guaranteed turn-off, lacking the force of Ferreri's memorable Gerard Depardieu self-castration finale in "The Last Woman".
Castellitto provides the requisite laughs with his goofy reactions to Dellera's off-the-wall behavior. She is a pale-skinned, kewpie doll beauty that becomes tiresome under constant camera fixation after the supporting cast is dispensed with. Concentration on the two stars is relieved only by interludes with a nursing mother on the beach, a lesbian who briefly joins the duo and a very funny visit from Castellitto's kids while he lies paralyzed on his back sporting an erection.
The director's intentional tastelessness has lost much of its shock value, so the off-screen death of Castellitto's dog from neglect is merely the pretext for a gag of Sergio literally in the doghouse when he tries out a new sexual position with Dellera.
Ennio Guarnieri's photography is mainly stark and functional, with the beach setting shot on sunny or overcast days at will. Other tech credits, including the direct sound recording, are pro.