I'd heard Marco Ferreri's The Big Feast was essentially an anti-food porn film, so I went into it expecting to see some kind of reverse Tampopo. In reality, it's more like what would've happened if the four aristocrats in Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom (1975) had been demented foodies. Honestly, I'm not opposed to the idea of watching four rich people gorge themselves to death as some kinda commentary on the emptiness of bourgeois life, but Ferreri does a poor job making the four protagonists vehicles for despair. Instead, they show up at a mansion cheerily dig into food, and die. And one of them doesn't even die from over-eating! The entire spectacle feels like just that: a spectacle. And with nothing beneath it's surface, what's the point in watching these people eat scrumptious food you can never try?
6/10
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