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Dinner is served: nous pouvons passer à table.

Despite descriptions of the film as being surreal, in Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie, Luis Buñuel delivers the banal in full force. The bourgeois gathering to eat and drink. Death, drugs, infidelity…everything is quotidian.

We live for Buñuel’s interruptions, the dreams dreamt and recounted, the noises that drown out speech so mundane as to be absurd, the affronts to sensibility. Violence is always and already under the surface of all this propriety.

Interruption is the game, of course. The meal is always interrupted. Intercourse is interrupted. Even piety is interrupted by horrible revelation.

Favorite scene: His Excellency, Rafael Acosta, being accosted by everyone at the colonel’s, politely of course, about the atrocities being perpetuated in his home country.

The bourgeois continue to vouvoyer each other across gender lines, even if they are ostensibly old friends. The food never looks appetizing.

Stéphane Audran is cold and beautiful, Maxence Mailfort even more so.

Looking forward to watching more films from Luis Buñuel.

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