fat poetry and fatter lies

A man sets fire to his ejaculation which erupts rather like a bunsen burner. His dreams or the truth? It’s tempting to try this at home. If only I could persuade my other half… Later the same man mounts the flesh of a dead sow and makes love to the meat, only to be shot dead in the head for his crime, poor man. Move on a few years to the fast-eating contests where very fat people eat and eat and eat and throw up and throw up and throw up and then eat and eat and eat. It’s marvellously raw, marvellously real and marvellously revealing. Rivers of food tumble from their mouths like the time you drank too much and went out for that kebab you should never have touched. I wondered if this was how Lajos Parti Nagy (on whose short stories the film is based) feels about socialism (of course it could so easily symbolise This Place too: isn’t that the point?). I’m looking into him. Found some of his poems here, at Left Curve. And then the superfat, failed fast-eater is eaten by his superfat, slow-eating, blown-up cats. And then he’s stuffed by his son, hence the film’s title, who then stuffs himself. Apparently lots of people walk out of this film – ‘simply sick, honestly, why would anyone want to watch that rubbish’ – but I could have sat there a wee while longer. Go and see it. The very final scene is worth waiting for. The head chopping. Beautiful.