Art House: The Cook, The Thief, His Wife And Her Lover makes debauchery palatable

Welcome to hell's kitchen. Peter Greenaway's The Cook, The Thief, His Wife & Her Lover is a harrowing descent into human depravity, inhuman cruelty and unfettered selfishness. It is also one of the most viciously beautiful films you will ever watch.

A richly textured work with layered meanings and a cast of fascinatingly repellent characters, the 1989 film has been called an allegorical critique of Thatcher-era Britain, as well as a biting observation of rampant 1980s consumerism.

Albert Spica (Michael Gambon) is a coarse, abrasive gangster with delusions of refinement. He is the owner of Le Hollandais, the restaurant where most of the film takes place. Spica is constantly at odds with chef Richard Borst (Richard Bohringer), who chafes at his employer's incessantly boorish behaviour. Actually, he is seemingly at odds with everyone on earth, with his dialogue a constant stream of profanity-laden insults and derision.

Helen Mirren plays Georgina, Spica's wife. A woman of refined tastes, it is never made quite clear why she married such a monstrosity. But what is made clear immediately is that she is unhappy. One night, she catches the eye of Michael (Alan Howard), a bookstore owner who, like Spica, dines nightly at the restaurant.

Georgina and Michael immediately begin a torrid affair with the aid of the restaurant staff. There seems to be no limits to their passion, and it may also seem like there are no limits to how openly those passions are portrayed on-screen.

The plentiful humour in the film is the blackest kind, and many of its biggest laughs are guilty pleasures. The laughs often come from unlikely or unexpected places. For example, Spica's mother Grace (Liz Smith) is not only as uncouth as her son but seemingly narcoleptic. A rare screen cameo from singer Ian Dury also provides some comic relief.