Blood of the Beasts

In a suburban outskirt of post-WW2 Paris, we are enamoured by the beauty of one of France's pearls. It's an ordinary day where time seamlessly and relaxingly passes by. We wonder, "what's going on?"

It's only when you search inside the buildings one actually realizes the life (or lack thereof) in the city. Paris, a destination spot for romantics and travellers abroad, has its meat industry displayed--not their biggest attraction. It's not a heinous crime nor an "extreme" act. Yet it's only when peering behind the guarding walls we see the treachery the human race is capable of. Choosing to disregard mass murder is one thing, but the blood on our hands, innocence stolen and suffering caused is something we will take to the grave.

The complete sense of normality is the most sinister aspect of this short film. Rarely do people actively consider what they are consuming. We observe how very regular the acts of slaughter are depicted and it appears to be an outrageous crime. But it's not. It happens in our very own backyard and in the most elegant of places.

Franju's short 1949 documentary of a Paris slaughterhouse is riveting, disturbing and beautifully filmed in black-and-white.

Though the subject matter and their ultimate demise is an eye opener, the manner in which men and women butcher the beasts is the most distressing. The butcher slaughter as calmly and methodically as anyone else doing a day's work. This coincides with Franju's belief that true, genuine horror is found in every day life - not in mad scientists, creepy monsters or wild story lines far removed from reality.

Regardless, the cinematography is outstanding, capturing a moment in time few get to witness.

If you're curious as to how animals were slaughtered fifty years ago, or if you have a taste for the macabre, this is the thought-provoking short for you.

An astonishing document.

A documentary shot with a surrealist aesthetic; images of unimaginable horror and violence--all perfectly real and unstaged--filmed with a languid and beautiful poetry. The images in this documentary about the slaughterhouse--the "abattoir," in the language of the narrator--are filmed with an almost cavalier, deadpan, unflinching clarity. The images of the lingering struggles of a decapitated calf; the satiny musculature exposed beneath the skin of a butchered cow, and the horrible but poetic moment when we see that the heart still beats beneath the sinews; the bored whistle of the beret-capped worker tapping the steaming spray of a horse's heart's blood; and then, the canal-concealing camera angle that shows us a barge bisecting a field of grass: "Blood of the Beasts" is a breathtaking celebration of the visual philosophy of surrealism.

There is a catharsis brought by art works that are painful to watch. In this case the catharsis does not come immediately. It takes time to sublimate the horrible experience, to get beyond it and to understand. To really understand.

A 20 minute documentary made in 1949 by Georges Franju (and scored by Joseph Kosma), calmly depicting the everyday work in the abattoirs from the outskirts of Paris. The animals coming here with serenity, suddenly killed and, that's it, immediately skin and legs and head are apart, it all happens incredibly fast. Sometimes bits of life go on for a few seconds. It's horrible. The slaughters make this matter-of-factly, otherwise you cannot resist there.

And as soon as you leave the slaughterhouse, it's normal life, that quiet poetry of normal life: sun, sometimes clouds, whisks of grass here and there, some debris, a pair of young lovers.

And actually it's about death, about our death: we are always dying innocently, and death is just part of life: death is just that, matter-of-fact.

The Criterion DVD "Les Yeux sans visage" aka Eyes without a Face" also includes the 20 minutes long documentary by Georges Franju, "The Blood of the Beasts" (1949) about an ordinary day at the slaughterhouse in Paris. This short film is one of the most horrifying ever made. What makes it even more difficult to see – the matter-of-fact efficient way the professional and skilled butchers do their jobs never stop smoking or whistling…. In one of the comments, the author recalls the famous eyeball- slicing scene of "Le Chien Andalou" which was a dead cow's eyeball. That shot only last a second, and it is still shocking. Now imagine much more gruesome and unbearable scenes showing the killing of horses, cows, calves and sheep over and over and over again and that unspeakable terror and fear in their eyes...Paris (or London, or New York City or Rome or any other place in the world) needs their steaks, chops, and burgers