THE COOK, THE THIEF, HIS WIFE & HER LOVER

She, however, finds an escape in a bookish, romantic lover, conducting their affair under her husband’s nose – in the kitchen, the pantry and the toilets – with the discreet help of Richard, the cook. When Albert discovers the betrayal, the story tips into a bloody revenge tragedy in which no one remains innocent, and the final course is hard to forget.

Greenaway stages the film’s plot in the style of a play. Menu cards divide the action into acts; the camera glides parallel to the set, whilst the characters often line up on one side of the table, as if bowing to the audience. Each space has its own colour: the car park is blue, the kitchen green, the dining room red and the toilets white. Georgina’s clothes change colour with each new setting. A Frans Hals painting hangs on the wall. At the same time, the tables groan under still lifes of fish, seafood and meat, calling to mind the old vanitas refrain: vanity of vanities.

Around the tables of Le Hollandais sits an entire vision of Thatcher’s Britain. The Thief embodies the arrogance and contempt of those in power; the Cook is the ordinary citizen, carrying out orders while muttering under his breath; the Lover is the intellectual and rebel; and the Wife, a dignified country bound to its abuser.

A classic that demands to be seen on the big screen – though perhaps not just before dinner.

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Text: dr Adrianna Woroch